4
Limits
Sonya’s broker called the landlord of the Rose Salon space and made an offer.
With her savings, Sonya bought the building in Buena Park, and with the profits from Rose Salon, she decided to expand to a second location in Anaheim.
DH negotiated the purchase and sale agreements as well as the lease for the new space.
After the closing, Sonya took her nephew to lunch at an Italian restaurant in Anaheim that the seller’s lawyer recommended.
“Calamari, lobster ravioli, braised beef. Can’t go wrong,” the lawyer said, and asked his assistant to get them an early table.
DH ordered a number of their famed dishes, and the waiter cocked his head at the two thin Koreans, wondering how they’d eat all this food. Sonya shrugged and smiled.
“We’ll take home whatever we don’t eat,” she said, and the waiter left them.
“Nice job today.” She switched back to Korean.
“Thank you,” he replied in English. He understood everything she said, but his Korean vocabulary was more limited than Bo’s or Mido’s. He grinned. “I was trying to impress you.”
“You did. You are impressive,” she said in English.
At the closing, DH had been measured, organized, and clear. The seller’s counsel had taken the young lawyer seriously, but in Sonya’s mind, DH was still a boy.
“Are you thirty yet?” she asked.
“In America, I’m twenty-eight. I turn twenty-nine in November.”
“November second. I flew to New Jersey in December to help your mother with Bo. You were such an easy baby.”
Sonya grew quiet thinking of Helen, who had been so grateful that DH ate and slept without any fuss. All three of Helen’s kids were good, but DH did whatever he was supposed to do and was so affectionate that the ever-stoic Helen softened around him, and laughed more easily.
“You made your mother happy. She lit up when you were near.”
DH reached across the table and held his aunt’s hands. “I think you and I might miss Mommy the most.”
Sonya shook her head, unable to speak.
“Dad is having a hard time, but he won’t admit it. Whenever anyone says anything about Mommy, it’s like he’s gone. He’s sitting there but just looks… anguished. I don’t know the right word—” DH unfolded the napkin on his lap.
“Is he okay otherwise? How’s his health?”
“Mido cooks for him and makes sure he takes his vitamins. He works so hard still. Never complains. He looks healthy, but we all worry about him.”
“He managed the salon so well that we were able to expand.”
DH could feel his BlackBerry buzzing, but he ignored it. He spent every waking minute at the firm, and he never got to see his aunt alone.
“Aunt, you’re now the landlord. No more rent payments for Rose Salon.”
“I’ve never owned my own building before.”
“Congratulations,” DH said. “It’s a solid piece of commercial property. Not cheap, though. Everything is really expensive these days. I think even our little house in Cypress has doubled in value.”
“I hope your bosses appreciate you,” she said, sitting up straighter. “Your aunt has money, so I want to make sure you charge me your full fee and get credit. You’re a wonderful business lawyer.”
A frown crossed DH’s bright face like a shadow. “I am a good lawyer, but my firm doesn’t take me seriously. In a few months, I’m a fourth-year associate, and I don’t think I’ll ever make partner.”
“When do lawyers get considered to make partner?” she asked.
“It depends on the firm. At mine, usually eighth or ninth for corporate. I was told that it used to be seventh, but every year, they keep pushing the goalposts. I can wait, but my problem is that I won’t inherit any business from any of my partners, and it’s nearly impossible to get these giant fee-generating clients on my own.
I’m put on all the deals because I do the work that the other associates don’t want to do, but all the partners I work for are worker bees and none of them are rainmakers.
I should be out there hustling for the big kill, but all I do is other people’s scut work. ”
“So what will you do?” Sonya asked, having a hard time believing that DH wouldn’t be adored at his firm the way he was everywhere else. “Is there a future there?”
“It’s up or out if I don’t make partner, and I can tell that as much as my partners like me, none of them are going to give me their business outright.
I’m everyone’s boy but no one’s boy. I need to be adopted.
I need a serious backer, and I don’t have that at Willings & Crane.
If I don’t make partner on my eighth or ninth year, then I’m just clogging up the system. I should probably find another firm.”
Back at the office, DH had several pink message slips for missed internal calls. His BlackBerry had been buzzing the entire time during lunch, but he had tried to put it out of his mind. The managing partner, Jack Pockett, wanted him to swing by his office.
DH knew it was about bonuses. At Willings & Crane, the partners gave out associate bonuses in late January.
In 2005, he had billed 2,700 hours, so he was expecting something decent.
His supervising partner, Eddie Veler, had tried to manage his expectations.
“Profits per partner this year weren’t great, DH. I know you worked your tail off.”
Jack looked up from his desk when DH walked in. They both wore navy suits, but his had a faint windowpane pattern.
“Koh.”
“Hey, Jack.”
“Tough news. I think you heard from Veler.”
“Managing expectations, right?”
“Koh. You are one smart cookie.”
“So how bad is it?”
“Not good: $15,000.”
“Oh,” was all DH could say.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “You look disappointed. It was the highest bonus of your class.”
“I billed twenty-seven hundred hours. That is not a normal number. I was in this building easily over three thousand. I did nothing else last year except work.”
DH studied the view of Beverly Hills behind Jack’s desk.
They were on the twelfth floor, and he could see tall buildings on the other side of the boulevard and, in the distance, palm trees, several blocks parallel to them.
He wished the numbers were different. DH had been counting on something closer to $40,000, so he could pay off his school debts and help out more at home.
There was never any need to be rude to anyone, but DH was exhausted and in no mood to be polite. He felt like walking out.
Jack tented his fingers, elbows on his desk, and sighed briefly.
“You’ve worked very hard, I realize. The firm appreciates your efforts.
We had a decent year, but we thought we should limit our bonuses and salt some away for the future in case the economic picture changes.
It’s better for us to put money away rather than have to cut—”
DH stood up abruptly, getting ready to leave. This was the speech nearly all the lawyers heard even when the firm was making crazy amounts of money.
Jack raised his right hand to stop him from going.
“We really value you, DH.”
“Jack, let me ask you something. Do you think I can make partner here?”
Jack didn’t reply.
“Oh. I see.”
“DH, I can’t answer a question like that. You’re very young still. It could be another five or six years before you could be up for partner.”
“Wait, another five or six? I thought it would be four or five. Can’t you tell from my work quality now if I have a shot?”
“We do not want you to leave. You’re a valuable member of the corporate department of Willings & Crane, and we know you have options, DH.”
“I’m confused. I just asked a simple question. Do I have a shot? I didn’t say you had to put it in writing. Do I have a shot at making partner?”
“Hard to say.”
DH inhaled, then exhaled. He tried to clear his head.
Jack folded his arms and looked down at his desk blotter.
DH knew that it was partners like him who prevented associates like DH from getting ahead.
Because his billable rate was so high and he had too few clients of his own, he had been made into a kind of administrator.
Managing partner sounded like an important job, but at Willings & Crane, it was the job that no one really wanted.
The firm was going to bet that DH would stay another five or six years, but unless there was a major boom, his corporate partners couldn’t justify another partner for a while. If anything, they’d want to bring in some lateral hires from a peer firm with clients of their own.
“I know you mean well,” DH said. “Thank you for talking with me.”
“Hey, man, don’t leave like that,” Jack said. “You want to have a drink? I can call the wife and kids and tell them that I’ll be late.”
DH shook his head, thinking that even the offer to have a drink wasn’t a real offer. Had he said yes, he would have been the bad guy taking a husband and father away from his family.
“I’m good, Jack. Thanks,” DH said, and walked out. He looked over his messages and realized that he didn’t care.
As soon as he entered Peter’s kitchen, DH removed his necktie and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
He sank into the beige armchair by the patio doors.
Mido was setting the table. Peter took out containers from the freezer and put one in the microwave to defrost. He filled a stockpot with water and set it on the large burner.
“Spaghetti and meatballs make everything better,” Peter said. When DH had called him earlier with the bonus numbers, Peter had told him to just come over.
“Man, you okay?” Peter asked.
DH had his head in his hands, his fingers clasping his thick black hair.
“I got fucked. Again,” DH said. “Fuckers fucked me. Why did I trust those assholes? I did nothing but work, work, and more fucking work. I got the shittiest bonus last year, too. My friends in the same kind of firms made three times what I made. But it’s not the bonus that pisses me off—”
“You still have a job, right?” Mido said, wanting to sound positive, but, seeing his face, realized she had said the wrong thing.