Even though I’m religious myself, or at least make an attempt to be—Catholic in my case—I had a good chuckle over it.
Listening to him right now, the magazine does have a point, he certainly is full of hot air.
“I completely understand, Congressman Bowen,” Doug says, interrupting Bowen’s latest rant. “Jesse here is going to work on a few angles of attack and we’ll set up a meeting with you to discuss it. How does that sound?”
“So long as they pay for what they did. Just last week at church someone, probably one of those degenerate teenagers, placed disgusting whistles in the shape of—I can’t even bring myself to say it, but they were scattered all over the hood of my car. My wife and teenage daughter were right there with me. The worst part is my daughter had the audacity to laugh at it! They’re already corrupting her!”
“Terrible,” Doug says, with such an exaggerated look of disapproval on his face I have to wonder if it’s just to keep from laughing. “You can rely on us to come up with some strategy to address this terrible wrong done to you.”
“Like I said, eviscerated!” Congressman Bowen yells.
So much for turning the other cheek.
That wording inadvertently presents an unfortunate mental image in my head, something to match the images from that magazine cartoon.
It’s all I can do to keep from laughing.
When Doug finally hangs up, he exhales and gives me a sardonic look. “So, it looks like we’re suing Ideal Gentlemen for…something. Like I said, I want you to think of a few avenues of attack.”
“So are we in the business of media law now? Do you really want to take on Conniver Media?”
“Good God, no,” Doug says in horror. “This case is a one-off—and focused only on the magazine, not the parent corporation. Besides, rumor has it, Conniver is getting rid of a few publications, including Ideal Gentlemen. Either way, don’t spend too much time on it. I doubt these will be billable hours.”
Well, thank you very much, Doug.
I bite my tongue.
Billable hours are the lifeblood of the firm, which means it’s one of the major factors partners look at when granting year-end bonuses and deciding who is deserving of a partnership offer. All associates have a minimum quota and, while I’m perfectly on track even this early in the year, I certainly don’t want to waste time on something that does nothing to advance my career.
Save for the fact that it’s Doug Hancock doing the asking.
Despite my silence, he must note something in my expression.
“It pays to have a Congressman in your pocket, Jesse.” He gives me a mildly panicked look, then adds, “in a manner of speaking.”
“Right,” I say with a tight smile. “At least we won’t be breaking any campaign finance law.”
“The source of funds isn’t your concern,” Doug says, for some reason especially irritated at that remark.
The hell it isn’t. My name on a case that ends up in front of a congressional hearing is not something I’m interested in happening. But since I’m not billing anything at this point, I suppose it doesn’t matter.
“That will be all,” he says, dismissing me. “Give me something by first thing in the morning? Just a quick memo on your findings.”
In other words, spend most of the night researching caselaw and put together something that is proofed, perfectly-cited, and complete with a table of authorities.
It’s going to be a long night.
“Will do,” I say without hesitation. It comes out easier than the next thing on my mind. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the notice this morning regarding the two new associates we’re hiring? What’s the deal with that?”
“Hmm? Oh, that was Marie’s doing. Can’t hurt to have a few souls straight from D.C. in our Admin Law department, right?”
“Right,” I say, nodding.
So it seems like Emily was headhunted?
At least she finally ended up in New York. I can’t fault her for choosing ABC. She always was vigilant about going after what she wanted, and this firm is the best.
Good for her.
The two of us didn’t necessarily end on a bad note, but when she couldn’t get the kind of job she wanted in New York and decided to head to Washington instead, we knew it might not last. After almost three years together up at Harvard Law School, it was a clean break.
Now, she’s back.
I wonder if she’s seeing anyone.
It occurs to me that she’ll be back in time for the firm gala.
All the more reason to find someone to go with.
Unless of course she’s still single.
Chapter Five Honey
It’s now late afternoon, and I’m at the gym with my workout partner Jerome. We’re taking turns on the chest press machine.
By day he is a bike messenger, so his schedule is flexible enough to fit in the odd workout session with me.
At night he becomes “Jheri Gurl” a drag queen who comes alive on the stage, mostly to the tunes of old school Janet Jackson. When he’s in full makeup, hell if he doesn’t kind of look like her.
We became friends when we both worked tiny roles in an off-off-off Broadway show years ago.
I’ve filled him in on everything that happened at lunch with Francis, seeking out his advice. I knew how my girlfriends at work would react, circling the wagons of female outrage. That certainly has its benefits, but right now I need a good dose of reality.
So I’m asking the opinion of a man.
Or as close to one as I can get.
“Honey, it’s over girl,” he says as he stares down at me, pursing his lips.
“What?” I say, suddenly releasing the weights. They fall back in place with a loud clang. I didn’t expect him to be this blunt about it. “It’s not over. We’re just…on a break.”
Why am I so defensive all of a sudden?
Wasn’t
