particularly important, though.” I continued, a slight shake in my voice. “Highlander just spent two hundred million dollars on an advertising campaign centered around the fact that every one of their hotels is furnished by Blissful Beds. If they let the supply contract expire, they’ll have to dump the whole campaignwhich would be a big hit. Our client would be stuck with a bill for a new ad campaign.”
A small smile crept across Ben’s face. His expression reminded me of a parent watching a kindergarten graduation.
I took a deep breath. “I think we should make the renegotiation of the Southern Hospitality supply contract a condition to closing.”
Ben was nodding approvingly now, as though I had passed some test. “You’re absolutely right, Mackenzie. Great catch.” He scratched a note onto his legal pad. “Go ahead and add that to the draft of the purchase agreement.”
“Will do.” I tossed a satisfied smile in Sarah’s direction on my way out. How you like me now?
As soon as I got back to my office, I closed the door and did a happy Snoopy dance. Jason was right. I totally got this.
6
I PUSHED OPEN MY office door, nearly hitting Sadir, who was sprawled out on the floor, looking like a corpse and smelling like one that had been there for days.
“Mackenzie!” Sadir jumped to his feet. “Shit, is it morning already?” He snorted and snuffled as he raked his sleeve across his nose. Then he rubbed his bloodshot eyes and attempted to smooth down his hair, which was sticking up after being mushed against a pile of files used as a makeshift pillow.
“Yuuuup. Morning time,” I answered with a hint of annoyance, placing my bag on the floor, slipping off my coat and hanging it on the back of the door before taking a seat at my desk. I was used to Sadir sleeping in the office, but this morning I found the sight a little … repulsive.
“Looong night.” He let out a guttural sigh, stumbling to his seat. “Reallllly long night.” I could tell he wanted me to press for details, but I wasn’t going to take the bait. My mind was hazy from sleep deprivation and all I really wanted was to sip my latte and peacefully do some online shopping. Clicking open Outlook, I could hear Sadir running through his morning routine on the other side of the partition—eye drops, mouthwash swished ten times and spat out in the garbage can, and two spritzes of cologne. I knew what was coming next.
“Hey, did you hear the latest?” He popped his head over the partition.
“Nope,” I answered disinterestedly, scrolling through my email. Every morning Sadir offered up what he referred to as “the latest,” which gave the sense that he had some juicy tidbit of gossip, when in reality it was just the information he’d gathered on who was working on what, what deals had died, or whether one of F&D’s clients was in the Wall Street Journal that day. None of it fell into the category of “the latest,” but that didn’t stop Sadir.
“There’s a new deal being staffed. Wanna know the partner?” He paused before drawing out the name dramatically. “Saul Siever. Some poor associates will be sucked into his vortex of craziness today.”
“Really? That sucks.” I continued my daily script of responding enough not to be rude, but not enough to encourage him—then my mind caught up to what he’d just said. “Wait.” I suddenly felt my insides cramp, remembering Saul standing in the elevator when I stepped in at 6 P.M . last night. I was just ducking out for a quick sushi dinner with Jason, a tiny present to myself for enduring the all-nighter and impressing Ben. Saul gave me an angry once-over as I resisted the urge to tell him I would be returning to the office in an hour (and that I’d just come off an all-nighter). Now, I was kicking myself for staying silent because Saul Siever, the craziest partner at F&D, thinks he saw me leave the office for the day before seven. In Biglaw that was akin to pulling the
A small smile crept across Ben’s face. His expression reminded me of a parent watching a kindergarten graduation.
I took a deep breath. “I think we should make the renegotiation of the Southern Hospitality supply contract a condition to closing.”
Ben was nodding approvingly now, as though I had passed some test. “You’re absolutely right, Mackenzie. Great catch.” He scratched a note onto his legal pad. “Go ahead and add that to the draft of the purchase agreement.”
“Will do.” I tossed a satisfied smile in Sarah’s direction on my way out. How you like me now?
As soon as I got back to my office, I closed the door and did a happy Snoopy dance. Jason was right. I totally got this.
6
I PUSHED OPEN MY office door, nearly hitting Sadir, who was sprawled out on the floor, looking like a corpse and smelling like one that had been there for days.
“Mackenzie!” Sadir jumped to his feet. “Shit, is it morning already?” He snorted and snuffled as he raked his sleeve across his nose. Then he rubbed his bloodshot eyes and attempted to smooth down his hair, which was sticking up after being mushed against a pile of files used as a makeshift pillow.
“Yuuuup. Morning time,” I answered with a hint of annoyance, placing my bag on the floor, slipping off my coat and hanging it on the back of the door before taking a seat at my desk. I was used to Sadir sleeping in the office, but this morning I found the sight a little … repulsive.
“Looong night.” He let out a guttural sigh, stumbling to his seat. “Reallllly long night.” I could tell he wanted me to press for details, but I wasn’t going to take the bait. My mind was hazy from sleep deprivation and all I really wanted was to sip my latte and peacefully do some online shopping. Clicking open Outlook, I could hear Sadir running through his morning routine on the other side of the partition—eye drops, mouthwash swished ten times and spat out in the garbage can, and two spritzes of cologne. I knew what was coming next.
“Hey, did you hear the latest?” He popped his head over the partition.
“Nope,” I answered disinterestedly, scrolling through my email. Every morning Sadir offered up what he referred to as “the latest,” which gave the sense that he had some juicy tidbit of gossip, when in reality it was just the information he’d gathered on who was working on what, what deals had died, or whether one of F&D’s clients was in the Wall Street Journal that day. None of it fell into the category of “the latest,” but that didn’t stop Sadir.
“There’s a new deal being staffed. Wanna know the partner?” He paused before drawing out the name dramatically. “Saul Siever. Some poor associates will be sucked into his vortex of craziness today.”
“Really? That sucks.” I continued my daily script of responding enough not to be rude, but not enough to encourage him—then my mind caught up to what he’d just said. “Wait.” I suddenly felt my insides cramp, remembering Saul standing in the elevator when I stepped in at 6 P.M . last night. I was just ducking out for a quick sushi dinner with Jason, a tiny present to myself for enduring the all-nighter and impressing Ben. Saul gave me an angry once-over as I resisted the urge to tell him I would be returning to the office in an hour (and that I’d just come off an all-nighter). Now, I was kicking myself for staying silent because Saul Siever, the craziest partner at F&D, thinks he saw me leave the office for the day before seven. In Biglaw that was akin to pulling the
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