Quid Pro Quo （n） – Jameson
QUID PRO QUO (N):
LATIN FOR "SOMETHING FOR SOMETHING," TO IDENTIFY WHAT EACH PARTY TO AN AGREEMENT EXPECTS FROM THE OTHER, SOMETIMES CALLED MUTUAL CONSIDERATION.
JAMESON
Two Weeks Later
“You can start talking anytime now, Mr. Harris.” I glance at my watch before looking up at my latest client.
Dressed in a jogging suit and sunglasses, he’s been trembling in his seat for the past ten minutes. I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement, but I’m seconds away from walking out on him.
“I bill by the hour, Mr. Harris.” I give him one last chance. “Especially for emergency sessions, so please tell me why you needed to see me so early this morning.”
“Yes, that would be nice.” He nods, but he doesn’t say anything else.
Okay, then. I shut my folder and stand.
“No, wait,” he says. “Please sit back down. I’m just getting a vibe on you. I’m going to pay you for every second, I swear.”
I sit back down.
“Do you have something worth losing, Mr. Tate?” he asks. “Like, family or close friends?”
“Limited family, and I have an assistant who I consider to be a great friend.”
“So, you don’t have a special woman or girlfriend you’d do anything for?”
I used to. “No.”
“Well, how am I supposed to trust you with my case if you don’t have anything to risk?”
“Don’t trust me,” I say. “Last I checked, I don’t know anything about your case—yet.”
“I guess I’ll take my chances, then.” He clears his throat. “First and foremost, I’ve heard such amazing things about your legal work.”
“Flattering me will not earn you a discount.”
“I know, I know.” He pulls a sheet of paper from his briefcase and slides it across the table. “I need to make sure I’ve calculated my potential charges and potential prison time properly.”
“My clients don’t typically go to prison, Mr. Harris.”
“Embezzling fifty thousand dollars is the same as embezzling five hundred thousand dollars, correct?”
“Do those numbers sound the same to you?”
“I mean, charge-wise,” he says. “Like, both amounts are a Class C felony either way.”
“Technically, yes.”
“So, if I steal it all at once, that’s only one charge,” he says, “but if I steal it in increments of fifty thousand each, that’s multiple charges, so it’s better if I find a way to steal it all, right?”
What the hell?
“Wait a minute, I’m confused. You’ve already been charged, right?”
“No, of course not.” He smiles. “I’m lining up everything before I commit the crime to make sure you can get me off.”
I blink.
“Smart, right?” He points to his sheet. “My company hasn’t been valuing me like they should, and I need to teach them a lesson. I also need to show my girlfriend how much of a boss I am.”
“I’m going to make a very rare exception for you today, Mr. Harris.” I stand up. “I’m not going to charge you a dime for wasting my time.”
“Really?” His eyes light up. “So, I’m free to take the five hundred thousand and come back here whenever they figure it out?”
“No,” I say. “You’re free to leave and find a legal way to get revenge. Helping someone commit crimes isn’t how I operate.”
“Isn’t it, though?” He scoffs. “You’re Lucas Hunter’s top lawyer. That tells me everything I need to know.”
“My clients are none of your business.”
“Yeah, well, do they know that?” He crosses his arms. “Lucas Hunter was on my TV this morning bragging about how amazing you are while he was getting arrested. That’s what made me come down here.”
He’s been arrested? I storm out of the conference room and rush down the hall to Rachel’s desk.
She’s not there.
No one is.
Before I can pull out my phone to call her, she steps off the elevator looking as pale as a ghost.
Running toward me, she grabs my arm and pulls me into my office.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She pants, shutting the door. “The feds picked up Lucas two hours ago, so you should probably head to court to handle it.”
“Please tell me he didn’t really speak to the press.”
“He did. He said, ‘Wait until Jameson Tate gets here. All of this frivolous bullshit will go away.’”
“Is that it?”
“Thankfully, yes.”
“What did they indict him for?”
“Racketeering, wire fraud, false imprisonment, and attempted murder,” she says. “Everything you were expecting.”
“You think there’ll be more?”
“Do you?”
Of course.
I grab my briefcase and double-check to make sure I have what I need for his arraignment. But I can’t help hesitating for a few seconds.
“Something wrong, Jameson?” Rachel asks.
“No,” I say. “Tell Nate to go handle Mr. Hunter for me. He can drive him back here to speak with me.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s not the white-glove treatment he’s accustomed to.”
“If he wants to wait for me, tell him I’ll be available around four in the afternoon.”
“Okay, then.” She crosses her arms. “On the plus side, you’ll be able to get the attempted murder charges off pretty easily.”
“Why’s that?”
“That part of the indictment is full of circumstantial evidence,” she says. “No body, no crime.”
“I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“For the record, you’re still not back to your normal self, but you’re getting better.” She starts to open the door. “Slowly but surely.”
“Hold on a second, Rachel.” I tap my fingers against my desk. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“I already told the interns to expect to work late hours this week. Oh, and I handled your dry cleaning. You’re welcome.”
“No, this is an off-the-record and this-never-happened type of favor.”
“Ohhh.” She smiles. “Sounds like a sleuthing mission. Will I get a fancy rental car?”
“Maybe.” I motion for her to come closer. “Did you remember to research Lucas Hunter’s estate plans two weeks ago?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “There’s never been a well recorded on his property. I emailed you the original blueprint and all permits.”
“Let’s assume those aren’t accurate,” I say, opening my drawer. “Since he’ll definitely have to be in New York this week, I need you to drive there to take a closer look.”
“Is this for him or for you?”
“For me,” I say, handing her my black card. “Do as much of a deep dive as you can, and tell Gillian to stand in for you this week.”
“Say less.” She takes the card. “Anything else I can do while I’m there?”
“Yes.” I pause. “Let me know if you see a red oak bench and matching canopy…”