It’s sterling silver, fashioned from a cinco peso coin from the 1940s. They use the same coin to make Texas ranger badges. I got it at Stelzigs on South Post Oak. Cost me $125 before tax. It’s brand new, so it’s a bit too tight. But damn it looks sharp. A circle with a star inside it. It’s polished and smooth on the outside. The inside is the Mexican coin, still like it was when the thing was legal tender.
My pop got the same money clip for Christmas. That’s how I found out about it. My buddy Tom had given me a leather magnetized one from Coach as a groomsman gift. They retail for around $40, and look pretty sharp. But I lost that a few weeks ago. Somehow, I couldn’t just replace it. Felt like I had to upgrade.
So I got this fancy number here.
I usually carry a fifty in it to wrap the other bills. A hundred is too flashy, extravagant. Twenty isn’t anything impressive. But a fifty, that says exactly what I want it to say.
Today there’s no fifty though. I lost it to Derek at poker last night, along with about $250 more. The fucker was betting big into my two pair, raising pot – raising me pot when I got the nuts. Then he catches his nut flush on fifth street and cleans me out.
Bad beat.
But then, I’ve caught my own cards on fifth street.
I’m supposed to be on the phone with Ted Tomlins right now. I’m supposed to be explaining which of the separateness covenants absolutely have to be in the LLC agreement, and which we can give on if we’re going to be able to give the non-consolidation opinion.
Instead, I am staring at my money clip, turning it over in my hands, wiping my fingerprints off and then printing it again.
The phone rings. It’s Tomlins.
I don’t answer, knowing that Ruthanne will get it.
She does.
After a moment, she buzzes in to me.
“Mike?”
I am silent. Stupidly, I duck.
“Mike, are you in there?”
I make no sound. She hangs up and puts Tomlins in to my voice mail. Moments later, I have a red light on my phone indicating that there’s a message. There’s always a message.
This defeats me. I know that I will have to check it soon. I know that it will make me tense. I know that whatever the message contains, it’s not what I want to hear.
What do I want to hear?
I decide that I am thirsty. I lock my computer and get up to visit the Coke machine on 23. As I head out of my office, I stop. What if I see Bratic in the hall? I’ve owed him discovery requests for over a week. What will I say?
I turn on my heel and return to my office.
I check my email. Peej has written me. I am thrilled at the diversion, and read his email twice over. I contemplate my reply, and as I am typing, the phone rings again.
It’s Bratic.
Christ! He’s calling to destroy me. He is fed up with me for sure. I’ll be fired right now, on the phone.
No. What will I say? I will tell him they’re done, that Ruthanne is finishing the last edits. I’ll have them to him in half an hour. Can I do them in half an hour? If I rush, maybe.
All these thoughts in the split second before I answer the phone. I have to take Bratic’s calls. There’s no telling what could be going on when he calls me. We could have a temporary injunction hearing to get to immediately, or he could have a client on the other line pissed off about something. You never know with Bratic. But he’s my boss and I always take his calls.
“Hey Glenn,” I say, in my best casual voice. I wonder if he can hear my fear.
“Hey man, can you give Mark Axelrod a call and find out if they ever had comments on that letter?”
Axelrod? Axelrod at Centech? That’s an entirely different case. He must have forgotten about the discovery requests!
“Absolutely. I’ll do it right now.”
“Thanks man.” Click.
Whew! Relieved, I get up to go visit the Coke machines.