Chapter 29 David
My phone rang for the fourth time that day.
Jennifer Paulson. Morrison & Klein Executive Search.
I stared at the screen, watching it vibrate across my desk. Let it go to voicemail.
She'd been calling since Monday. Three voicemails. Seven emails. One text message that said URGENT - NEED RESPONSE BY EOW.
End of week. That was tomorrow.
I opened my laptop and pulled up the email again. Read through the offer for what must have been the tenth time.
Dear Mr. Harrison,
Morrison & Klein is pleased to extend an offer of partnership-track associate position in our New York office.
Base compensation: $425,000 annually, with performance bonuses up to $200,000.
Full benefits package. Clear path to equity partnership within 18 months, with estimated annual compensation of $2-3M upon partnership.
Two point three million dollars, average.
I sat back in my chair and looked around my office.
One room above a coffee shop. A desk I'd bought used. Windows that rattled when trucks drove past. My bookshelf held more free legal aid pamphlets than actual law books.
Not exactly Morrison & Klein.
My calendar was open on my other screen. Tomorrow: custody hearing for Maria, whose ex-husband was trying to claim she was unfit because she'd left him after he'd hit her. Monday: restraining order follow-up. Tuesday: new client consultation—DV case, referred from Emma's clinic.
Emma.
I closed my eyes.
Four days since the clinic. Found days since she'd looked at me like maybe, possibly, there was a chance.
And now this.
My phone buzzed. A text from Marcus.
You seeing this?
A link to a legal blog. I clicked it.
Former Olson, Chen & Lowe Rising Star David Harrison Rumored to be Fielding Multiple Big Law Offers. Sources say Morrison & Klein and two other top NYC firms are competing for the disgraced attorney's return to corporate practice.
Disgraced attorney, huh.
Another text:
They calling you yet?
Yeah.
You gonna take it?
I stared at that question for a long moment.
Three years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. Sure, I’d have been turning down a few offers from NY firms these past few months, but… partnership track at Morrison & Klein? I'd have been packing my bags before they even finished the offer letter.
But three years ago, I'd also thought climbing the corporate ladder was the most important thing in the world. I'd thought partnership was worth destroying my marriage for. I'd thought ambition and money and prestige were what defined success.
Three years ago, I'd been an idiot.
I looked at the email again. $425,000. More money than I'd ever made, even at Olson, Chen & Lowe. Enough to stop worrying about whether I could pay rent. Enough to stop eating ramen three times a week. Enough to feel like I'd finally made it back to where I'd been before everything fell apart.
Except I didn't want to be where I'd been before.
That version of me had been miserable. Chasing the next promotion, the next case, the next validation. Coming home at midnight to a wife I'd stopped seeing. Choosing billable hours over everything else.
Choosing wrong.
I pulled up my case files. Maria's motion was only half-finished. I had research to do, precedents to cite, arguments to tighten. She deserved my full attention. Her kids deserved a lawyer who gave a damn about keeping them safe.
Morrison & Klein wouldn't give me cases like this. They'd give me corporate disputes and contract negotiations and clients who could afford to pay $800 an hour. Important work, in its own way. Lucrative work.
But not this.
My phone rang again. Jennifer could be persistent, it seemed.
I let it ring.
Thought about Emma. About the way she'd looked at me in that hallway four days ago.
I looked at my calendar again. At the work I'd built here. At the small practice that barely paid the bills but let me sleep at night. At the women who needed someone to show up and fight for them because no one else would.
At the life I'd chosen instead of the one that had been chosen for me.
My office was quiet. Just the hum of my laptop and the faint sounds of the coffee shop closing up below. Outside, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across my desk.
I thought about New York. About corner offices and million-dollar compensation packages and partnership at one of the best firms in the country.
I thought about my tiny office above a coffee shop.
About Emma's voice: I don't know if I can trust you.
About my own voice, three years ago, lying to her face about where I'd been.
About who I'd been then, and who I wanted to be now.
My phone rang again.
I looked at it. Jennifer Paulson. Morrison & Klein.
Friday deadline. They needed an answer.
I picked up the phone.
Took a breath.
And answered the call.
"Ms. Paulson,” I said. "Thanks for your patience. I've made my decision."