Read Online Billy Summers by Stephen King - Free Book Online Page A

don’t know about writers, but when you work for a start-up law firm, you have to watch your nickels and dimes.”
    â€œLots of lawyers in the building?” Billy asks Phyllis as the elevator doors open.
    â€œDon’t ask me, ask them,” she says. “I’m with Crescent Accounting. Answer the phone and check tax returns.”
    â€œQuite a few of us legal beagles,” Harry says. “Some on three and four, a few more on six. I think there’s a start-up architectural firm on seven. And I know there’s a photography studio on eight. Commercial stuff for catalogs.”
    John says, “If this place was a TV show, they’d call it The Young Lawyers . The big firms are mostly two or three blocks over, other side of the courthouse on Holland Street and Emery Plaza. We stay close and get crumbs from the big boys’ table.”
    â€œAnd wait for the big boys to die,” Jim adds. “Most of the lawyers in the old-line firms are dinosaurs who wear three-piece suits and sound like Boss Hogg.”
    Billy thinks of the sign in front: OFFICE SPACE AND LUXURY APARTMENTS NOW AVAILABLE. It looked like it had been there awhile, and like Hoff, it had a certain whiff of desperation. “I’d guess your firm got a break on the lease.”
    Harry gives Billy a thumbs-up. “Bang. Four years at a price just north of incredible. And the lease will hold even if the guy who owns the building, Hoff’s his name, goes into Chapter 11. Ironclad. It gives us little fellas some time to get traction.”
    â€œBesides,” Jim says, “a lawyer who gets screwed on his own lease agreement deserves to go broke.”
    The young lawyers laugh. Phyllis smiles. The doors open on the lobby. The three men forge ahead, intent on chow. Billy crosses the lobby with Phyllis at a more leisurely pace. She’s a goodlooking woman in an understated way, more daisy than peony.
    â€œCurious about something,” he says.
    She smiles. “It’s a writer’s stock in trade, isn’t it? Curiosity?”
    â€œI suppose so. I’m seeing a lot of people dressed casual. Like them.” He points to a couple just approaching the door. The guy is wearing black jeans and a Sun Ra tee. The woman with him is in a smock top that declares her pregnant belly rather than hiding it. Her hair is pulled back in a careless ponytail secured with a red rubber band. “Don’t tell me those two are lawyers or architectural assistants. I guess they could be from the photography studio, but there’s a whole herd of them.”
    â€œThey work for Business Solutions on the second floor. The whole second floor. It’s a collection agency. We call them BS for a reason.” She wrinkles her nose as if at a bad smell, but Billy doesn’t miss the touch of envy in her voice. Dressing for success may be exciting at first, but as time passes it must become a drag, especially for women—the good hair, the good makeup, the click-clack shoes. Surely this nice-looking woman from the accounting firm on the fifth floor must from time to time think about how much of a relief it would be to just slop on a pair of jeans and a shell top, add a dash of lipstick, and call it good.
    â€œYou don’t need to dress up when you spend the day working the phones in a great big open-plan office,” Phyllis says. “Your targets don’t see you when you’re telling them to cough up the cash or the bank will slap a lien on your house.” She stops just shy of the doors, looking thoughtful. “I wonder what they make.”
    â€œI guess you don’t crunch their numbers.”
    â€œYou guess right. But keep us in mind if you hit big with your book, Mr. Lockridge. We’re also a new firm. I think I’ve got a card in my purse…”
    â€œDon’t bother,” Billy says, touching her wrist before she can do any serious digging. “If I hit it big, I’ll