55

GEORGE RYDER WASN’T SURPRISED when his secretary informed him that Ed Jackson wanted to see him at three o’clock that afternoon. The latest computer printouts told the whole story. His billable hours for June, which he and Jackson discussed earlier, were up slightly, at ninety-one. But July was a total disaster for him.

There was no doubt in Ryder’s mind that favorable settlements he worked out for two of the firm’s clients that month cost him over a hundred billable hours. His skill and experience had moved the cases off the litigation track on which they were headed. Each case would have required lengthy hearings, one with a Federal agency, the other before an arbitrator. The chances of being forced to pay out large sums of money in both, by way of back pay or damages, were quite high. Ryder engineered settlements that let both employers off cheaply, but the result, in terms of his billables, was anything but good. Production records for the month showed only seventy hours of his time for which Walters, Cassidy & Breen would be paid. Paul Castillo did not give him work of any sort in that period, although Castillo continued to show a full billing schedule for the month.

What upset Ryder the most was finding out from Alan Deveraux, who invited him to lunch, that Deveraux was already aware of the fate in store for his good friend George that afternoon. Before the deli sandwiches they ordered were brought to the table, Deveraux took out a copy of a memo addressed to Ryder from Ed Jackson. The memo first outlined the history of his billable hours over the past two years. After that came the terms the firm was prepared to offer him in exchange for a voluntary resignation. Deveraux informed him that his secretary found the document in the copy machine that morning when she went to use it.

“I think it’s a goddam insult for them to be offering you three months’ severance, George. You’ve got about thirty years with the firm, right?”

“A little over thirty-two, but it doesn’t surprise me. We’ve been going in this direction ever since Fiore became managing partner. Everything is strictly bottom line now. What you’ve done for the firm in the past doesn’t mean diddly-squat.”

“Do you think he’s behind this?” Deveraux asked.

“Of course he is,” Ryder replied. “He’s been after my ass for years, ever since he succeeded me as managing partner. He didn’t want me to run against him that year. Said he had all the votes he needed to win at the partners meeting, and I should recommend his election unanimously. I told him I didn’t think he was the right person to lead the firm at that time and that he’d have to beat me on the ballot. That pissed him off real good and he warned me I’d regret it someday. I guess I handed him the opportunity and today’s the day.”

“Then you figure Jackson’s just doing what he’s been told?”

“Absolutely. He’s just a wimp. He knows it, and so does everyone else. He’s a workaholic with no balls. Big smile, friendly guy, but principles don’t mean a thing to Ed if he has to worry about his own rear end. That’s why Fiore put him where he is.”

“You know, George, if you don’t resign, Ed’s recommendation will have to go to a vote of the partners, and he may be worried about whether a majority would support him. He barely won his own election. If he gets voted down on this, it’s a big slap in the face. He’d definitely lose most of his power and he might have to step down himself. Maybe you can negotiate a better severance package out of him for that reason, unless you intend to fight it altogether. You’d have plenty of support.”

“I’m not sure, Alan. I’ll have to think it over. Practicing with this firm isn’t the fun it used to be. This may be the right time to get out and go somewhere else, or even start a new career. The best thing that could happen to WC&B is for Doug Fiore to be elected governor. And I don’t mean because it would bring in business.”

* * *

At a few minutes after three, Ryder picked up the paper Ed Jackson pushed across his desk. He took less than ten seconds to scan it, to make sure it was the same one he was shown at lunch by Deveraux.

“Make it nine months’ severance and I’ll resign today,” he said. He was prepared to accept a counterproposal extending the package through the end of the year, making it a five-month deal.

Jackson was shocked at the speed with which Ryder reviewed the memo and responded to it. He hardly had time to turn his chair toward the window and puff away at his pipe. “I’m not sure we can do that,” he said.

Ryder feigned surprise. “Come on Ed, I’ve been here thirty-two years, a little more than you. You don’t think I’m asking for too much, do you?” He made it sound as caustic as he could. “Make believe no one was going bankrupt anymore, and your undertaker services weren’t needed. You wouldn’t think severance pay from August through April was excessive after all that time in the firm, would you?” He looked hard at Jackson who had a blank look in his eyes while he continued blowing smoke in the air.

“And I’m not so sure the partners of this firm are willing to sit back and watch someone with my seniority get booted out just because sales happen to be down for a while. Maybe they’d rather see my billables for the past thirty years and then vote on this kind of a policy.”

Jackson held the pipe away from his mouth and pursed his lips several times. He seemed to suddenly realize that Ryder was waiting for an answer. He had no idea how to respond to the proposal. “What you do is up to you, George. I’m not prepared to change the offer today. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you in a day or two.”

“Do you mean you want to discuss it with Fiore?” Ryder paused for just a second. “I mean with the Executive Committee?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. That’s up to me to decide.”

“Have you already gone through this with the Committee?”

“That’s confidential. The partnership agreement says I can handle this kind of thing myself or bring the Committee in on it. You know that.”

“Right. And I also remember that while I was managing partner anything this serious had to get a majority vote at the Committee to get off the ground.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, George. If I needed three votes, I’d have Rubin’s and Zappala’s.”

Ryder stood up. “That’s right, I forgot that the court has been packed.” He dropped the memo on Jackson’s desk.

“That’s your copy,” Jackson said. “Hold on to it.”

Ryder turned to leave. “I don’t need this one. I’ll wait until it gets changed.”

* * *

But there was no change. Fiore laughed to himself at Ryder’s request for extended severance pay. He knew he could successfully help Jackson bully enough partners into upholding a termination if it came to that. The vote would be close but he counted heads and knew which partners would be afraid to oppose him.

“Listen, Ed, I’m not happy about it but I think you’ll just have to tell Ryder the three months you offered him is all he’s going to get for his resignation. He knows that the firm’s been overpaying him for almost the last two years. His salary has been higher than his billables for all that time. I like George as much as anyone, but times are tough right now and we’ve treated him well. If this was a year ago, I could see giving him five or six months’ severance, but we’ve more than made up for that in the pay he’s received while WC&B was losing money on him. To give him the severance he’s asking for now wouldn’t be fair to the partners who have been doing the work and bringing in our revenue. I think George knows that. I don’t blame him for asking for more, but if he doesn’t want to go along with the fair offer we’ve given him, be sure he understands that you’ll submit a motion for his termination at next week’s partners’ meeting, supported by a recommendation from the Executive Committee. Tell him you’re well aware that he could fight it but that you’re not worried about getting a majority of the partners to support the Committee. If he wants to force a vote, we’ll respect his decision but there’ll be no severance pay for him at all if he loses.”

Jackson didn’t look forward to another face-to-face meeting with Ryder. He began dialing his number, intending to communicate the decision over the phone and to support it with some of the thoughts Fiore laid out for him, but then decided he didn’t want to speak to Ryder at all. He took out a copy of the memorandum, updated it with a hand-written note in which he said that the Executive Committee had decided not to change its severance offer, and asked for an immediate reply. He had the mail room send a clerk to his office and instructed him to deliver the sealed envelope to Ryder. When the messenger arrived, Ryder told him to wait. He read the memo and figured that Fiore had the votes he needed to support Jackson. Without hesitating, he wrote “OK” at the bottom of the page, initialed it and sent it back.

Almost immediately he experienced an unexpected surge of relief. In one sense Ryder felt defeated, saddened by the fact that a distinguished career was coming to an end in such a shabby manner. He always looked forward to a kind of “Goodbye, Mr. Chips” farewell when he left the firm, with everyone applauding his final words about friendship and loyalty. He never imagined that his departure would be forced on him. Worse yet, that it would come on the heels of an argument with some gutless partner over the length of his severance pay. At the same time, there was a rush of pleasure at what was happening. He realized that he wouldn’t have to have anything more to do with the likes of Fiore and Jackson and those partners whose cowardly conduct, in his estimation, reflected the knowledge that it was in the best interest of their careers to go along with whatever Fiore wanted to do.

Ryder was no longer obligated to give WC&B a single billable hour. It was up to him whether he cleaned out his office and left the next day, or chose to use it for the entire three months while he made telephone calls, received secretarial assistance and looked for other employment in town. He knew that a letter of resignation, approved by Jackson, could be circulated to the firm anytime he desired. That’s when he could announce his date of departure and go out a gentleman, not someone who seemed bent on revenge. It was understood that the office manager would arrange a party for him on his last afternoon unless he notified her to the contrary ahead of time. Coffee and cake would be served to those who came around for a final handshake. He circled the date on the calendar that would be his last day in the office. Ironically, he saw that his three-month severance would officially end on the day before the general election in November. If Fiore was the Republican candidate, Ryder wouldn’t be showing any disloyalty to his “employer” when he voted Democratic.