Page 12 of Partner Pursuit
Audrey said, “I have to take this call.” She should ask Gertrude to say she had a call whenever Malaburn was in her office. Not that Gertrude would ever agree—she was too deferential to thepartners.
He stood. “I’ll call you later.” As he closed the door, he said, “I’d suggest you take down the papers and give them to your assistant to inputquickly.”
She picked up the call from Anderson, the partner in charge of the Popflicks case. The Popflicks general counsel had requested her—not Tim—as the senior associate to run the case. Anderson looked forward to working withher on it.
“I’m thrilled. It’s my dream case,” she said to Anderson over the phone, and she meant it. Tim must be disappointed.
She called the assignment partner. He was out on vacation, so she left a message. Of all the times for him to be away. She shouldn’t worry yet; he was sure to check messages and call her back. She finished the engagement letter, sent it off to Anderson, input all her changes from the wet papers, and then reviewed two associate memos, givingcomments.
Now to write a memo about their recent document pull at the Hen Bank offices where John Rothman worked. Minus the details about the gym bag she’d shared with Eve. They had been hoping to find a written authorization signed by Pierre allowing Rothman to trade in the account. They hadnot.
She stared out her window, up at the blue sky with just a few patches of clouds, biting a nail. She had a hunch, but she needed to speak to the Hen Bank compliance officer to confirm it. She called Genevieve, Hen Bank’sin-housecounsel, explained her theory, and Genevieve patched in the compliance officer.
Audrey asked, “If a written authorization allows a broker like Rothman to trade in an account, what procedures are followed? Is there anyfollow-upby the compliance office to make sure the trading is within the approved boundaries and not fraudulent?”
“Yes,” said the compliance officer, explaining how those accounts had a higher level of supervision that involved certainsign-offson the order tickets.
That made sense. They were not just going to let those “masters of the universe” tradewilly-nillywithout anyone looking over theirshoulders.
Audrey hung up and clicked on the folder storing the images of the order tickets for Pierre’s account, recently scanned from the document pull. The order tickets had those signoffs. So, Pierre’s account was being treated as a discretionary trading account. She sat up straighter, feeling lighter already. It was something, but they still needed that written authorization signed by Pierre. She rubbed her neck and shoulder muscles. She needed to win this case. She wasn’t going to be promoted if they lost this case—and possibly then the client.
Was there another reason why Pierre, a reputedmulti-millionaire, would sue her client, Rothman, destroying theirtwenty-yearfriendship for a $200,000 trade? Especially when the stock was volatile and might recover? John Rothman had been upset about the loss of their friendship. Not overtly, but a few heartfelt remarks here and there when he’d explained how they had been family friends; their wives, best friends. A personal reason made more sense, given the ramifications. That wasn’t something she usually considered as a lawyer, but an emotional rationale could appealto ajury.
Winnie called to see if she was still free to pick up lunch. “I need to vent,”shesaid.
“Oh no. Whathappened?”
“They told me I’m going to Texas to manage our document discovery. Just one week, but still.” Winnie sounded frustrated.
“Oh no.” Audrey saved her document. “Meet you downstairs.”
She caught the elevator right before the doors closed. Swooping in, she nearly bumped into senior partner GeneWhitaker.
“Wherever you’re going, it’s not worth losing your hand over,” Gene said, his bushy eyebrows rising up as he leaned back against the wall, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Lunch. I heard you were retiring. I’m really sorry to hear that. You’ll be missed,” she said. Gene was one of her idol partners. Tough, but fair. Willing to mentor young lawyers.
He harrumphed. “More like, don’t let the door hit you on thewayout.”
Her brow furrowed. “When is your retirement party?”
“I’m not having one. The firm’s got enough to worry about right now, without planningmy party.”
“I hardly think that planning your departure party is a hardship that the firm can’t handle,” she said, shocked.
“So you’d think.”
The doors opened onto the lobby. Winnie was texting by the window. Audrey admired her whitemilitary-styledress with little brass buttons in a vertical row. It wascutting-edgechic, almost too hip for the law firm. Winnie visited her grandmother in Hong Kong every summer and inevitably returned with a few stunning tailored pieces.
She joined Winnie, whispering, “The firm isn’t even throwing a departure party forWhitaker.”
Winnie noddedknowingly.
They pushed through the revolving doors to the street. It was muggy, the air heavy. The sulfur smell of the steam rising from a New York City manhole coverhitthem.
“No need to do the sauna too, in this heat,” Audrey said. “They should add lavender or citrus to that steam tode-stressNewYorkers.”
“Yeah, the perfect way for New Yorkers to get sauna health benefits while still rushing to their next destination,” Winnie said. “And we could create an app that alerts people to the next steam stack to blow and make enough money to quit law.” Winnie was quite certain that she didn’t want to make partner.
