closed the door behind him.
The room was silent as Rosen scribbled on his pad, then gave it up and closed the file. Adam almost felt sorry for him. Here was this great warrior, the legendary Charlie Hustle of Chicago law, a great barrister who for thirty years swayed juries and terrified opponents and intimidated judges, now sitting here as a pencil pusher, trying desperately to agonize over the question of assigning a rookie to a pro bono project. Adam saw the humor, the irony, and the pity.
“I’ll agree to it, Mr. Hall,” Rosen said with much drama in his low voice, almost a whisper, as if terribly frustrated by all this. “But I promise you this: when the Cayhall matter is over, and you return to Chicago, I’ll recommend your termination from Kravitz & Bane.”
“Probably won’t be necessary,” Adam said quickly.
“You presented yourself to us under false pretenses,” Rosen continued.
“I said I was sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“Plus, you’re a smart ass.”
“So are you, Mr. Rosen. Show me a trial lawyer who’s not a smartass.”
“Real cute. Enjoy the Cayhall case, Mr. Hall, because it’ll be your last bit of work for this firm.”
“You want me to enjoy an execution?”
“Relax, Daniel,” Goodman said softly. “Just relax. No one’s getting fired around here.”
Rosen pointed an angry finger at Goodman. “I swear I’ll recommend his termination.”
“Fine. All you can do is recommend, Daniel. I’ll take it to the committee, and we’ll just have a huge brawl. Okay?”
“I can’t wait,” Rosen snarled as he jumped to his feet. “I’ll start lobbying now. I’ll have my votes by the end of the week. Good day!” He stormed from the room and slammed the door.
They sat in silence next to each other, just staring across the table over the backs of the empty chairs to the rows of thick law books lined neatly on the wall, listening to the echo of the slamming door.
“Thanks,” Adam finally said.
“He’s not a bad guy, really,” Goodman said.
“Charming. A real prince.”
“I’ve known him a long time. He’s suffering now, really frustrated and depressed. We’re not sure what to do with him.”
“What about retirement?”
“It’s been considered, but no partner has ever been forced into retirement. For obvious reasons, it’s a precedent we’d like to avoid.”
“Is he serious about firing me?”
“Don’t worry, Adam. It won’t happen. I promise. You were wrong in not disclosing it, but it’s a minor sin. And a perfectly understandable one. You’re young, scared, naive, and you want to help. Don’t worry about Rosen. I doubt if he’ll be in this position three months from now.”
“Deep down, I think he adores me.”
“It’s quite obvious.”
Adam took a deep breath and walked around the table. Goodman uncapped his pen and began making notes. “There’s not much time, Adam,” he said.
“I know.”
“When can you leave?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll pack tonight. It’s a ten-hour drive.”
“The file weighs a hundred pounds. It’s down in printing right now. I’ll ship it tomorrow.”
“Tell me about our office in Memphis.”
“I talked to them about an hour ago. Managing partner is Baker Cooley, and he’s expecting you. They’ll have a small office and a secretary for you, and they’ll help if they can. They’re not much when it comes to litigation.”
“How many lawyers?”
“Twelve. It’s a little boutique firm we swallowed ten years ago, and no one remembers exactly why. Good boys, though. Good lawyers. It’s the remnants of an old firm that prospered with the cotton and grain traders down there, and I think that’s the connection to Chicago. Anyway, it looks nice on the letterhead. Have you been to Memphis?”
“I was born there, remember?”
“Oh yes.”
“I’ve been once. I visited my aunt there a few years ago.”
“It’s an old river town, pretty laid back. You’ll enjoy it.”
Adam sat across the table
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