Billionaire Secrets of a Wanglorious Bastard (7 page)

It was empty.
 

More boxes arrived at my office. I worked until the sun came up. No sleep.
 

Then someone knocked on my door.

It was Stack. He smiled.
 

“Meet me in the conference room in a few minutes. And bring your time sheet.”

“All right. I have a few more pages until I finish this box.”
 

He left. I finished. And filled in my time sheet.

22

I ENTERED A
narrow room with a long desk at the opposite end. Stack stuck out his hand, and I gave him my time sheet. He walked to the end of the table and handed it to two older men sitting next to one another. They looked like they came straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. One was a bald giant with a long chin and the other was a little person with a long-ass handlebar mustache that he groomed with a small comb.
 

The short one said, “Let's make this quick, Gropius. I have opera with Trudi.” Trudi? That had to be Grimes. And I thought Gropius was a nickname. Poor guy, stuck with probably the worst name in the world.

Gropius said, “Sit down, Rufus.”

So much for sympathy for Gropius. I sat. Stack stared at his twiddling thumbs.

Grimes said, “We know you're new around here and probably aren't familiar with some of our policies, but to say we're troubled about your performance would be an understatement.”

I said, “Troubled, sir?”

Gropius said, “We're looking at your billables and are trying to understand what you're doing with your time.”

I’d just given them my sheet and they hadn’t even looked at it. So what were they referring to? “I just started working.”

Grimes chuckled. “Apparently not hard enough.”

Gropius said, “We have standards here, Rufus. Standards that require you to put in a certain amount of time every day to work. Even as a summer associate.”

Grimes said, “That is what we pay you for, not being wined and dined.”

Wined and dined? “Are the other summer associates working too?”

Gropius said, “This isn't about anyone but you, Rufus. And you are billing the lowest number of hours in the history of our firm.”

They had to be kidding me. I’d just started. People got in later than me. And when I roamed the halls, no one was there. “I don't understand.”

Grimes raised my time sheet. “You see this? This is a time sheet. Whenever you start to work on a project, you write down the time.” He started writing on it. “You take this and turn it in to us and we can tell how much work you've been doing.”

Gropius said, “Maybe you've been under-billing. Accidentally, of course.”

Grimes said, “But under-billing nonetheless.”

They both said, “Do you understand?”

This had to be a misunderstanding. “I've just been here for a few days and I've already worked late hours and recorded the time I actually spend working.”

Grimes looked at my sheet and wore a scowl. “So you spend most of your time dawdling”

“No, I—”

Grimes said, “You mean to tell us, then, that it takes you less time to do”—he started reading from my sheet—“document review? That's what you did last night, correct?”

I nodded.

He said, “By my estimation, you went through a box of documents in”—he read the sheet—“two hours?”

I said, “Actually, two hours and five minutes.”

Grimes said, “Rick Hornsby had the document review for a box with half the documents and it took him at least fifteen hours to review them.”

Fifteen hours? “During the day?”

“No. At night, in his office, the same time you were here.”

That couldn't be. “I walked by his office and he wasn't there.”

Grimes said, “Rufus, lying isn't going to help you.”

Gropius said, “If it takes you a long time to review documents, then don't be ashamed. Bill that time.”

Grimes raised a bony finger. “This isn't a sprint, it's a marathon.”

Gropius nodded. “At Krueller, we pride ourselves on taking all the time we need to help our clients. So be honest in the future, all right?”

Instead of a liar? Right. “Sure.”

Gropius said, “Now we want you to start from scratch with your document review.”

What the what? “But I've already reviewed most of the boxes.”

Gropius said, “Not with the care we require. So do it again, all right?”

What kind of nonsense was this? I wasn't a speed-reader, but a box didn't take fifteen hours. This had to be revenge for Natasha, Lola, and Rita. These decrepit fucks couldn't get a laid unless they paid for it. That was why they wanted me to spend all my time doing some bullshit. They wanted to keep me from the honeys.

And fifteen hours for one box? With all the boxes they wanted reviewed? At that rate, I'd still be at work for a month without going home.

That was it.

Home.

23

“WHERE ARE YOU
going with that?”

By “that,” Gladys meant the box of documents I was lugging out of my office.

I said, “Home.”

Gladys snatched the box from me. “I'm sorry, but you can't unless you sign them out.”

Oh. My bad. “Where do I do that?”

“Right here.” She took out a form and handed me a pen.

I scanned the form and something seemed wrong. “Is this for the day?”

“What?”

“The sheet. It's blank.”

“It's for the month.”

“So Rick hasn't signed anything out this week?”

“He's too busy running home to catch up with the Kardashians at five.”

I got it. “He's too busy taking boxes home to sign out.”

“Why would he want to take boxes home? He's never done it before.”

I looked at a clock. It read “4:30.” Sure enough, Rick hurried out of his office and scurried down the hall like a cockroach.
 

That fucker was lying. He'd been lying and yet I was read the riot act? Rick Hornsby. Model employee. Top biller. Lying prick.

This could not stand. I needed proof.

And I knew exactly what to do.

24

“EXCUSE ME, SIR.
But Rick doesn't want his office cleaned at all tonight.” Really, I didn't want his office cleaned. The custodian didn't need to know that.

He said, “You just started, right?”

“Right.”

“From the mailroom?”

“Right.”

“Any reason why?”

“Why I'm from the mailroom?”

“No. The reason why he doesn't want his office cleaned.”

I whispered, “He thinks someone's been stealing from his office and wants me to spread something on his floor to track the footprints.”

He whispered back, “I got it. But why did he ask you?”

“He thought I was cleaning staff.”

He jutted his lips and shook his head. “What you planning to use?”

“I don't know yet. But he told me to find out what would do the job.”

“I got what you need. I'll be right back.”

Sure enough, he came back and spread a white powdery substance on Rick's floor. Soon as he finished, he closed Rick's door on his way out.

“I'll tell the boys to leave it alone tonight. If anyone walks in, you'll see footprints marked on the floor tomorrow morning.”

I clasped my hands together and bowed. “Thanks.”

There was no way I was working from home tonight. I took a seat at Gladys’s desk the whole night.
 

Every bathroom break, I ran back to his room and opened the door. Each time there were no footprints.

I slept on the floor underneath my desk. From time to time, anticipation woke me up and I'd run to Rick's office.

Still no footprints.

I woke up at dawn.

Still no footprints.

I scanned the checkout sheet from the previous day. Rick's name was nowhere to be found.

Soon as people started filing in, I went to the cafeteria.

Sure enough, Rick rushed by with the same suit, more stubble, and coffee in hand.

I said, “Another late night?”

“Unfortunately, I don't even know what my apartment looks like anymore. I'm always here.”

I had to tell someone. It was too early for Tani and Enos.

I roamed the halls and only one person was there.

The last person I needed to see.

25

“I'M NOT TALKING
unless you apologize.”

“Apologize for what, Natasha?”

“Ignoring me?”

This was a mistake. A total mistake. I started to leave.

She lunged at me and grabbed my ankles.
 

“Let go.”

She pulled herself up and started unzipping my pants.
 

“What are you doing, Natasha?”

“What you want.”

I shrugged her away. “I don't want that,” I lied. I so wanted it, but knew it wasn't right.

She went for it again.
 

“Let go, Natasha.”

“Come on, Rufus. It'll make you feel good good good.”

She tried a hand job, but it wasn't happening.

I grabbed her hands. “Look, this is bigger than that.”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets. She bit her bottom lip. “It is?”

I told her about Rick, and she actually did a good job listening to my story. Humming and gasping, asking questions between licks. She seemed perplexed by my report.

“This is bigger.”

I nodded. “I don't know what to do. I mean, that's theft. Stealing money from the clients.”

She stared at the ceiling. “I know who you should talk to.”

26

“THIS IS A
serious allegation you're making, Rufus.” That was Gropius.
 

Grimes said, “Very serious.”

I pressed my lips together. “I know, but I thought that you should be aware of any misconduct. Especially considering how much our clients pay for our services per hour.”

Grimes looked at me askew. “How does this help us?”

I said, “I don't follow you.”

Grimes said, “How did you bill all this time you spent on a wild goose chase?”

Billables. “I didn't. Since it was a firm issue.”

Gropius said, “Let me tell you what a true firm issue is. We make money on billables.”

Grimes said, “Hard billables.”

Gropius wagged his finger. “The time you spent jealously playing Sherlock Holmes could have been spent on doing what we employed you to do.”

I said, “But don't you want to know about misdoings?”

Grimes shook his head. “If we want your help on that, we'll let you know.”

Gropius said, “In the meantime, the only thing you should be worrying about is whatever Sally assigns to you.”

Who? “Sally?”

Grimes tilted toward Gropius. “I think you mean Tawny.”

Gropius said, “Who?”

“You know.” Grimes wagged his tongue.

Gropius returned the gesture as if it would help him remember. “Yes. That Tawny.” He turned to me. “Tawny is who you are getting your work from. So do us a favor and leave the inquiries to us?”

27

ENOS COULDN'T BE
bothered. “So what?”

I said, “Don't you think it's unethical to—”

“I think it's unethical for you to be fucking up a good thing.”

“What?”

“Look, Polly-Rufus. Play the game, take your check, and shut the fuck up. This isn't a legal aid society, it's a firm. The bottom line is dollars.”

“At the expense of our clients?”

“Who has more to lose? A multimillion-dollar corporation or a motherfucker like me who owes two hundred grand in school loans?”

“But it's cheating.”

“Law school cheated my ass. I borrowed fifty grand a year. And for what? The fucking Socratic method? A method where the professors don't have to teach because the law exists in us?”
 

Tani said, “He has a point.”

Enos shook his fist. “You're damn right I have a point. You think that law school, in wake of all this knowledge, will give your ass a refund? Fuck no.”

I said, “Whatever problem you have with legal education isn't the point. What is the point is crooked practices and crooked behavior. Behavior that rewards lying.”

Enos clapped. “Thank you, Social Justice Warrior. Since you have such a problem with the billing, why don't you refund your clients directly instead of complaining to the partners?”

“Maybe I will.”

“Let's say you do. How do you think our virtuous clients, the guys that are strip-mining the Amazon or making cigarettes, are going to spend that money? Public interest?”

“I won't work for those types of clients.”

“You won't? Enjoy your honeymoon while it lasts, because this isn't your firm. You're a wage slave, just like the rest of us. You don't have equity. You're not a partner. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you'll be worrying about more important things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how to spend your blood money. You're not going to be making this money for long, so you better enjoy it while you can. Unless you get protection.”

Enough with this protection shit.

28

I VENTED WHILE
Rhage painted.
 

She said, “That's ridiculous.”

“I know.”

“You work too hard to give your money back to anyone. I mean, it is blood money, but it's your sweat money too.”

“That's not what bothers me. It's the immorality.”

“If you quit, you'd be doing what they want you to do.”

“How's that?”

“You'd be a loser. Quitting after how many days have you been there? It's like you couldn't hack it.”

“You think?”

“I know. It's a scam, and you shouldn't let them screw you over.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Whatever it takes to stay there. Beat them at their own game. Besides, we have plans together. To throw all of that away really doesn't accomplish anything.”

That night, a few strands fell out of my head when I brushed.

In bed, Rhage slept like a log. I didn't sleep all night.

29

“YOU WENT TO
Columbia, right?” I could barely hear what Gladys said over the oinking pigs coming from her headphones.

That I did. “Yes.”

“You did good in criminal law?”

“Pretty good. I was a teacher's assistant and did the criminal clinical seminar.”