firm would be fortunate to have. His schmooz skills and hence his client-generating prospects, however, were nil. He made a hundred sixty thousand a year, and worked hard enough to earn another twenty in bonuses each year. His wife didn’t work, his kids went to private schools, he drove a late-model Beemer, was not expected to generate business and had little to complain about.
A very experienced attorney with ten years of intense and high-level transactional work behind him, he should have resented the hell out of Jack Graham, and he did.
Jack waved him in. He knew Alvis didn’t like him, understood why, and didn’t push it. He could take his lumps with the best of them, but then he would only allow himself to be pushed so far.
“Jack, we’ve got to get cranking on the Bishop merger.”
Jac
