HOTEL CARMILLA
ROOM 601
NIGHT
"I check."
Their weekly poker game had been going on for a couple hours. It usually consisted of various New York's top echelon – Judges, District Attorneys, occasionally a Congressman or a Senator, sometimes the Mayor. Even Thomas' father, the city's Police Commissioner, would stop by. Yet, Thomas Reagan was the only non-elected, general population lawyer invited. Probably because he's the best and they were all his clients.
Now the game was down to two – Thomas and Manhattan Circuit Judge Henry Corbett.
"Raise, five thousand." Judge Corbett pushed a substantial amount of chips past his glass of bourbon and into the pot at the center of the table. He sat back smugly in his seat.
"I'm all in," was all it took for Judge Corbett to sit up straight again; his smugness replaced with a steely poker face.
Taking a moment to assess Thomas, Judge Corbett threw down his cards – two queens. Thomas' phone rings twice indicating a text message as he laying down his cards – two aces. He checks it as she casually sips his bourbon. Around him, his poker mates are grumbling and sighing and chuckling. Judge Corbett tossed his hands in the air, shaking his head.
"I need you," the text message read. It was from his partner, Haley Peters.
Thomas put his phone in the inside pocket of his expensive suit jacket as he stood up. "You can pay me later, I've got to go." He smiled at the various officials around him. "Gentlemen."
As Thomas is walking towards the door, a silent figured steps out of the shadowy corner and opens the door for him. It was Thomas' bodyguard, Carson. He's in his mid-thirties, all careful high-and-tight and stubble in a sharp dark suit and tie. His hazel eyes watched the crowd impassively. He's taller than Thomas, standing at six-foot-three and muscular. They looked slightly strange standing beside each other. Thomas was six-foot with unruly black hair that curled slightly. He wore a white shirt, open at the collar, no tie, underneath a light grey jacket that matched his trousers.
Outside of his family, Thomas trusted Carson explicitly. If there was one person in the entire world that knew everything about Thomas, it would be Carson. As dangerous as that was, Carson is loyal above and beyond the call of his duties.
"Heading home, sir?" Carson asked when they were in the hallway.
"Work."
PETERS/REAGAN & CLINE LAW FIRM
HALEY PETERS' OFFICE
"I'm paying you millions and you're telling me I'm going to get screwed?" Gerald Tate, their latest million dollar temper tantrum, was yelling loudly at Haley. Thomas could hear him coming up the corridor.
"Haley, have I come at a bad time," Thomas said sarcastically as he walked in. Carson stood outside the door, his back turned to them.
Haley, behind her steely eyed poker face, was relieved to see Thomas. She doesn't like to seem weak and can appear cold-hearted, but only because of her struggle as an African-American woman to get to the top. She couldn't be where she is today without knocking down the people who stand in her way. She doesn't let many people into her life, but Thomas is grateful to be counted among them. He knows deep down she is a loving person.
She's gorgeous for her mid-forties, smooth skin and hardly a wrinkle. She stands at five-feet-ten, but adds a couple more inches in ever present heels to be on equal footing. Her black hair was sleek and straight, highlighted with caramel, and rolled down her back.
"Reagan," Gerald barked, turning to sink his teeth into Thomas as Haley handed him the folder. "If you're the best this lemonade stand has to offer, where the hell have you been the last three hours?"
"Well Gerald," Thomas said, glancing through his folder, partially ignoring the angry man in front of him. He slowly paced around the couch Haley was sitting as he read. "As you should know by now, I specialize in troubled situations. And when I left here at seven p.m., this deal wasn't in jeopardy. So I'm just trying to figure out what happened in the interim."
"We keep offering more money, they keep rejecting it. It's last-minute bad faith bullshit."
Thomas stopped circling. "Says here that Cooper won't be staying on as honorary Vice President."
"That's right, I don't want him around."
"He wouldn't be around." Thomas said, looking up at the walking ego in front of him. "It's an honorary position."
"I don't give a shit."
"Well, I think you do, because that's what's changed since I left." Thomas closed the folder with an audible clap and dropped it on the coffee table beside him. "Which means it's been you who's been dealing the bad faith."
"Well, now that you've got a grasp on what's happened in the Goddamn interim, what're you going to do about it? Because he'd not getting that title."
"First off, I'm going to ask you not to take the Lord's name in vain. At least while you're speaking to me. Second, you're going to clear this up for me." He glanced at Haley, baffled. "We negotiated a deal that gave you everything you wanted, Mr. Cooper signed it, now it's you who won't close. Why? Because you want to take away the last shred of dignity Mr. Cooper has?"
"Bingo."
"Well, that's not going to happen."
"And why the hell not?"
"Because I like Mr. Cooper, and my firm doesn't operate in bad faith."
"Oh, I see how it is," Gerald stepped closer to Thomas, getting in his face to growl, "Instead of working Cooper, you're working me. Well, why don't you take your pansy attitude back in there and make him sign my deal. Or else I'll pay someone else your money to do what you obviously can't."
Thomas chuckled. He stepped back and strolled to an arm chair across from Haley. "First of all Gerald, if you think anybody is going to touch this deal after your bad faith, you're mistaken." He took his time unbuttoning his suit jacket when he sat. "Second, the way our agreement works is the minute Cooper signed this deal, giving you everything you wanted, our fee was due and payable, which is why at 7:30, I received confirmation of a wire transfer from escrow indicating payment in full."
As he spoke, he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his inside jacket pocket. He opened it up and held it out for Gerald to see. When Gerald didn't move in for a closer look, Thomas folded it back up and placed it on the coffee table.
"So, I'd say the ball's in your court," Thomas stood up and walked menacingly up to Gerald, his tone dropping. "But the truth is, your balls are in my fist. Now, I apologize if that image is too pansy for you, but I'm comfortable enough with my manhood to put it out there." When Gerald continued to stand there silent, Thomas took another step forward. "Now get your ass in there and close the deal."
Gerald turned to Haley. "You gonna let him talk to me like that?"
"Thomas speaks for our firm," She stood as well. "But since I'm just the pretty face….." She let his words from their earlier argument come back to bite him.
Gerald turned back to Thomas. Silently starring at him in disbelief. He stepped back and left the office. Carson opened the door and shut it behind him. Haley and Thomas watched silently and waited until he was safely around the corner to speak.
Haley cleared his throat as she picked up the financial statement Thomas left on the coffee table. "We got paid before Gerald signed the deal?"
"What are you talking about?" Thomas smiled when Haley opened the paper. "That's a memo I sent out yesterday about a fire drill next Tuesday."
"Huh," Haley continued to read.
"You're Blue Team Captain. You get to wear a fire hat." He smiled cheekily at her. She rolled her eyes and swatted him with the memo.
MANHATTAN BAR
Thomas and Haley sat across from each other in the bar across the street. Haley was sipping a cocktail while Thomas was on his second bourbon.
"How did you know Gerald wouldn't look at that memo?"
"Because a charging bull always looks at the red cape, not at the man with the sword."
Haley sipped her drink. "While you were out tonight, I set up a meeting for you and John Dockery next week."
"Dockery?" Thomas asked, confused. He laid his arm on the booth top behind him. "He's Scatton's biggest client."
"Not anymore," she smiled. "He's looking around. He plays tennis. Close him for us."
"Consider it done," He held up his glass and the two clinked. "Cheers."
A new waitress at the bar came over with her try in hand. She smiled, giving Thomas a furtive look. "You two seem to be celebrating something."
"We are." Haley gave Thomas a mischievous smile before turned to Lisa and raising her glass at Thomas. "You're looking at the greatest closer the city's ever seen."
"Closer, huh? Baseball?" She asked disbelieving, eyebrow raised, and on hip.
"Attorney." He sipped his bourbon. "I close situations for my firm."
"Our firm," Haley gently scolded.
"Our firm,' Thomas corrected himself.
"So you do it for the money?"
"Truth be told, I do it for the children." Thomas joked and Lisa laughed.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm Lisa."
"Thomas," he smiled.
"Well, Thomas, I don't normally do this, but since you are celebrating," She wrote something on her ticket pad. She ripped it off and tucked it into his jacket. She says with a coquettish look, as if offering more, "I get off at midnight."
As she left, Haley reached over and plucked the paper out of Thomas' jacket before he could. She opened it and chuckled. "Name, number, and address."
Thomas downed his bourbon and stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Keep it. The girl's your type, not mine."
He kissed her cheek and left Haley sipping her cocktail and toying with the waitress' number.