Sometimes life takes a strange turn of events. And then it just keeps going down a winding path of stranger and stranger turns.
Today is my fourth year anniversary of being a lawyer. I remember how proud I was when I was sworn into the State Bar, with my parents at my side and Jack Holt moving for my recommendation into the Bar.
Now I know why Jensen Bradford came into my life. It wasn’t to sweep me off my feet and make me fall madly in love with him, as I’d initially thought. It wasn’t even to help save his career, which is what we’d both initially thought. It was for him to help save my career, which had been barreling down the wrong track without my even knowing it.
I think about the oath I took when I was sworn into the State Bar. And how that means nothing to Brian, or to his dad, or apparently to anyone at Holt. Jensen’s right. Why would I have even wanted to work there? Why did I want to be with Brian?
I’m at my old office at the Holt firm, hurrying to do what I need to do before anyone gets suspicious. They think I’m here to retrieve some personal documents from my office computer— which they’ve already wiped clean of firm documents— and to talk to Jack Holt. That’s only half of what I’m here to do.
I need to make things right for the client, even if that means making my own life a lot more difficult. I log into Brian’s domain server at the firm using his way- too- easy password: “callofduty123.”
And there, plain as day, are chat logs between Brian and Kristin: romantic ones, as well as professional ones in which Brian gives up confidential client information so as to help Kristin advance at her firm. I suppose he assumes his job with Daddy is always secure. But in return she gives him some juicy tidbits that he can use to impress Daddy.
This was all under my nose the whole time. Perhaps a part of me knew that Brian was with someone else, and just didn’t want to face the truth. I skip reading the romantic emails because I don’t even care anymore. She can have him. And I redact their names from the professional emails because I’m not even out for revenge. I just want the client to know that he’s about to lose his trial, and why.
I email the redacted emails to the client, with a note explaining that he will probably want to find a new lawyer as soon as possible. And then I retrieve my meager personal belongings and go upstairs to the partner’s floor, and then to Jack Holt’s office. I leave my box of things outside his door before entering.
“Hello Riley,” he says, gesturing for me to sit, although I don’t. “I’ve been hearing good things from you and the work you’re doing at Veterans’ Legal Alliance. It’s impressive that you’re working to strengthen the firm’s relations with the military community. The partners and I are going to have a meeting next week about your return from your leave of absence…”
Can he really be saying what I think he’s saying? Brian made it sound like my job here was toast. I guess he was wrong about that. And I suppose he didn’t tell his father about the knock- out that Jensen delivered to him.
I hesitate for only a second, realizing that everything I thought I wanted is back within my reach, and yet I’m purposefully throwing it away. But then I remember the email I sent to the client, and how I had knowingly sealed my fate. I can’t work at this firm anymore ever again, and I also probably can’t work at any like it. And that’s a good thing.
I take a deep breath and say what I came here to say.
“Mr. Holt, I greatly appreciate your mentorship over the years and the opportunity to work for your firm. But I have decided to pursue other endeavors. I am tendering my resignation, effective immediately.”
“Other endeavors?” He asks, bewildered, as if there can’t possibly be any others. As if my end- all, be- all goal should be to work at Holt for my entire life. Which is exactly what I used to think, too.
“Yes, I enjoy working for veterans and I plan to continue doing that as well as helping out with other good causes. And I may take some plaintiffs’ cases.”
“Some plaintiffs’ cases? Good causes? Riley, you realize this is a career death sentence, right? None of this is nearly as financially viable or secure as working here at Holt. You were always a smart young woman with a good head on your shoulders. I’m sure you understand that there are ways to incorporate your newfound bleeding heart causes into your pro bono hours and after-work volunteer activities? It would make you an even stronger and better member of the firm. You’re up for a junior partnership vote next year, and none of these recent… events… have changed the partners’ minds about your ability to be a partner here.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Holt, but I no longer wish to be a member of the firm. The recent… events… have changed my mind about wishing to be a partner here.”
“Riley, I’m, speechless. I’m not sure what you mean…”
“Mr. Holt,” I begin again, figuring I might have to spell it out for him. “I do not approve of what happened at the Marks Capital trial. I believe it to be a violation of the rules of ethics and professionalism to…”
“Very well, Riley,” he says, standing and leading me to the door of his office. “If you’re going to swing around wild accusations without any proof, this definitely is not the firm for you.”
Oh, I certainly have proof, I think, but I just nod and say, “I agree, Mr. Holt, that this is not the firm for me. Goodbye.”
“I’d be very careful what you go around accusing this firm of,” Mr. Holt says. “In case your plans to do good work for low pay don’t end up being as satisfying— financially or otherwise— as you think it will be. You will need a reference, after all.”
I suppose that’s his way of blackmailing me. But too bad for him it’s too late.
“Goodbye, Mr. Holt,” I say, without any further answer. “Thank you again for the opportunity and experience.”
“Goodbye.”
And don’t let the door hit you on the way out, I know he wants to add, as I leave the firm of Holt, Mason and Davis forever.