Chapter 1
On the second level of the underground parking lot a gentle breeze floated over spot marked 201, reserved for Richard Brothers. The dimly lit corridor emitted the smell of musty air tinged with a sea breeze from the cool morning marine layer. There was a gentle hum of the Mercedes as the motor quietly shut down. The shiny black car reflected the overhead lamps illuminating the stunted height of the ceiling. Cracking open the car door, a black loafer stepped onto the recently swept floor. Standing straight up, Richard collects his brief case and listens for the arrival of his brothers, John Brothers and Paul Brothers.
The oldest of the three brothers, Richard greedily grabbed the best looks from his parents. Standing six feet tall, from the top of his thick black wavy hair to his piercing blue eyes, strong chin, and a perfect symmetric physique, he is the most handsome of the brothers. His demeanor is marked with an unabashed confidence and an enduring perseverance. Being the oldest brother has been the burden he has had to bear, always at the mercy of his envious siblings. Richard knew he was blessed from birth and never made excuses for all of his lustrous assets. Single at thirty-four, he is still in pursuit of the perfect mate. It’s not that he is so self-absorbed, rather, that sudden spurt of heart throbbing heart stopping love has yet to occur. He had always thought he would see her, and he would know-that an anvil would strike the top of his head, and his eyes would partially fall out of his head. He is still waiting.
Pulling back the navy gabardine sleeve on his Basile suit, he double checked the time on his Piaget. It’s Friday, eight o’clock in the morning. Smiling, he hears the loud roar of John’s five-year-old Chevrolet swerving into spot marked 202. Brother number two has arrived.
Emerging from the sedan, John, one year younger than Richard, pushed back his light brown hair, rearranged his pin dot tie and grabbed his wrinkled khaki poplin jacket. He is the shortest of his brothers, stretching to five nine inches, but that was when he was wearing his black patent Florsheim's. His body is lean, and his cheek bones are high, his brown eyes are set closely together as if he was always intensively studying a legal document. He felt cheated. He was the second born and should have been at least an inch or two taller. Maybe his mother forgot to eat when she was pregnant. But in spite of his undistinguished appearance, he always sports a wide smile. What he didn’t receive in good looks he received in brains and the blessing of a beautiful wife who has given him with four healthy lively children.
“For goodness sakes, fix your tie,” laughed Richard observing the remnants of a jelly donut drizzled over John’s tie. “You look like you just walked out of a dryer. Your suit is so rumpled the judge might ask the clerk to have it pressed. Or, I know, you think this will help you get sympathy from the judge and make our clients think you don’t earn much money. “
“Give me a break,” answered John. “It’s Friday and I had to drop off the twins at school. Just as they were getting out of the car, they leaned over to kiss me and poof, there went the contents of the jelly donut down the front of my favorite tie. I licked most of it off at the first traffic light. This is my lucky tie, and I can’t go to court with it.”
Further scrutinizing his younger brother, Richard noticed a hole in John’s shoe and a dark brown spot on the back of his pants.
“What else happened this morning? “Asked Richard
“You have no idea how hard it is to get out of my house. What with my four kids, two golden retrievers and a most beautiful wife, my hands are full. So, Maria needed a little help with the pooper scooper. I grabbed it and it seemed to have a mind of its own. The pooper scooper scooped a hole in my shoe while the fully loaded pooper scooper went flying into the air landing behind me ricocheting off the ground and into the back of my pants.” Shrugging his shoulders he was in a hurry to leave, that it was too late to change and besides, the rest of his suits had been sent to the cleaners.
“Get the receptionist to spray Lysol on you before you enter the court room,” advised Richard.
A slight gush of stale air rose, and they heard the roar of Paul’s Land Rover arriving. Gently maneuvering his SUV into spot 203, he grabbed a pile of cases and shoved open the car door with his leg.
Standing up, smiling at his brothers, he quickly bent over, and retrieved several cases that had slipped out of his arms.
“Good morning, guys,” he smiled. “Looks like I am the last to arrive. Did you have a great evening? Well, all I can say is having wife number four surely keeps my juices flowing. We didn’t even get to dessert, at least the gooey kind, if you know what I mean. Yes, we did have a type of dessert, but it sure wasn’t fattening. I just took her right there at the table and…
“Yes, we get the picture,” said John, looking a bit miffed.
Paul, aged thirty-two, is the youngest of the brothers and was first in line when they handed out the brains, but last when it came to relationships. Just under six feet, his handsome face is shaped just like Richard’s. They could almost be twins, except Paul has another thirty pounds added to his frame. It’s not that he appears fat, just heartier. This is attributed to a steady stream of wives, each one trying to outdo the other both in the bedroom and at the dinner table. His large car reflects the results of his previous three marriages, one child from each wife and now wife number four has been hinting she wants a child. Every night, just as he is about to sleep, Veronica begins a low seductive clicking sound, tick, tick, tick, she says. Perhaps this is her subliminal way of reminding her spouse, at 30 years of age, her time to have a child is running out. Thus explains the oversized Land Rover. With three rows of seating, it should handle whatever comes his way. Paul is just thankful that Veronica is allergic to dogs, one less mouth to contend with.
Unable to erase his smile, he joins his brothers as they briskly walk through the dimly lit parking lot corridor and into the waiting elevator. Joining several other passengers, they are whisked to their tenth-floor office at the City Building. One of the most prestigious skyscrapers in Las Vegas. Their father, Ted, had taken a lease the day the building opened. Yes, the three brothers did not fall from tree, they are all apples on the attorney tree, and Ted Brothers, their father, is the top limb.
The broad double oak doors touted the sign: Brothers Attorneys-At-Law. At the top of the list Ted Brothers, Esq. followed by Richard, John and lastly, Paul.
“Just because my name is the last on the list, doesn’t mean my sign should look like this,” he said annoyingly, pointing to the Esq. that had become slightly ajar, dangling precariously from the door.
“I will have Monica fix it, I promise,” said Richard as he opened up the door to their law office. The waiting room was filled with clients. Unable to tolerate Paul’s sour disposition, Richard grabbed him and kissed him right on the lips. That woke him out of his sulking mood and certainly made for great entertainment in the waiting room.
Monica, the office receptionist and manager, promptly stood up and drew a smile as broad as her high cheek bones.” Bravo,” she said to her three bosses, “This is a great way to start our Friday. Now gentlemen, before you get comfy in your offices, your father called and has requested you adjourn to the conference room He said he wanted to talk to you and that you should all be in the same room.”
Like three little puppy dogs, obeying their trainer, they walked to the conference room. It’s not that they were intimidated by Monica’s statement, rather they trusted and respected her commands, especially when it came from their father. Standing five feet seven inches, she has taken charge of the office for the last five years. Smart, but lacking funds to complete law school, she did the next best thing and took a job running a law office during the day while taking classes in the evening. Over the years, as raises were added to her bank account, she promised herself she would one day get that law degree. For today, at age twenty-six, she was satisfied running the office for the three brothers and studying in the evening. Her dark skin, and Amazon queen stature was arresting to both men and women. On several occasions, her prominence had stopped office brawls and soothed the most bruised egos, while clients waited for their appointments. Monica took her position seriously and spent every moment devouring the law. Whatever information came her way, she stored in her well-equipped brain, knowing one day all of this knowledge would make her a successful attorney. In terms of money, her goals were a bit loftier than her bosses and she would put her degree to use helping the poor black communities, where excellent legal advice came at a price too high for many to afford.
The suite had a spacious, yet sparse sitting area, replete with the most current magazines and soft background music. There were four large attorney offices, and four smaller paralegal offices, a spacious conference room, two storage rooms, and the tiniest alcove which served as a kitchen. The bathrooms were communal and shared with other tenants on the same floor. What captured Ted’s eye when leasing the space was the expansive panoramic view of the Las Vegas skyline. On a clear day you literally could see forever. As the three brothers trooped into the conference room, they were puzzled by their father’s request. Opening the door, they laughed about where each would sit during the conference call.
Ted never left a detail undone. Cunning, and perhaps convening, he had the space set up to create leverage on his side of the table, referring to this as the hometown advantage. The room was used almost exclusively for depositions- the most boring and loathsome process of litigation. Depositions are to gather facts from witnesses and various and sundry individuals before a trial takes place. The process is tedious and can take hours and days out of a lawyer’s busy schedule. So, he came up with some tools to underhandedly expedite the process. The opposing counsel always sat looking out the windows, which is in itself very distracting. Ted then had his landscaper’s cousin refashion half of the luxurious appearing blood red leather swivel chairs. The cousin extracted all of the stuffing and replaced it with a substance the texture of cement. Those chairs appeared lavish but in fact were miserably uncomfortable. Ted went so far as to create a special chair for the requisite court reporter, also embellished with a cushion as hard as cement. He had long ago discovered this speeded up the testimony allowing him more time to handle waiting clients. He further equipped the room with a hidden camera so he could spy at documents being passed by the opposition. Legally, they could tape the hearings, but he had additional bugs placed under the table, and the back wall, allowing him to pick up on whispers. Underneath the oval teak table, he had a tiny video camera that could view documents slipping in and out of opposition’s files. The camera had a special lens that could see in the dark and enlarge tiny print. There was no detail that went undone. The Brothers Law Firm was feared and hated by most of the litigation firms in the county of Las Vegas. They always won. No grass gathered under Ted’s feet. He was always in search of perfection, which in his mind was the most amount of money he could make on a case in the least amount of time. Ted had purchased elaborate software and had experts train the staff how to implement it in the most efficient manner. He read every article on running a profitable and tight ship, and this had paid off. Person per person, their firm was the second richest in the city. The three brothers gathered at the teak table were the recipients of their father’s diligent efforts.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” as the three played their juvenile games. And as usual John lost. He took the rock-hard seat facing the window. “Not so bad today,” John said. “I can almost see Red Rock Casino.”
Moncia called into the room and announced their father was on the phone. “Good morning sons,” said Ted. “I have gathered you together to invite you to our home Sunday for an early dinner, say around four o’clock. Susan, that is your mom, is going to make all your favorites. I will see you all then. Please don’t forget my beautiful grandchildren. There is something I want to talk to you about and do not wish to discuss such matters in the office. I have to go, they just called my foursome, and I can’t be late for the tee time. Have a great day in court.”
“It’s not like dad to sound so mysterious. He must have something up his sleeve. I guess we will all have to wait until Sunday,” said Richard. All nodding in agreement, they paraded out of the room and into their respective offices.
Efficiently, Monica handed each attorney a case file and gently reminded them their clients were seated in the waiting room. George Thompson was the first to arrive on this warm sunny Friday morning. He carried a bottle of vitamin water and a worn briefcase. Grabbing the key to the men’s room, he rushed out to make a pit stop before the devastating meeting with John, his bankruptcy lawyer. The client stood up and surveyed the other nervously waiting clients. “You know this is my third time here,” he said. “It’s like I have been recycled. First, I met with Richard, who got me a great settlement on a car accident. That drunkard ruined my car and almost killed my wife. But maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad, since a year after my fat settlement, I found her in bed with my best friend, drinking my expensive favorite champagne. I came back here again and that time Paul helped me out. He wrapped up my divorce in under six months and I was out dating in a blink of an eye. It’s funny, women don’t seem to mind a short bald man when he has a lot of money in the bank. I grow a foot taller and add a few strands of hair whenever my portfolio grows another few million. But alas and alack, the last few investments were disastrous and have left me penniless. So now I am back here to see John, the undertaker, I mean the bankruptcy lawyer. Full circle, I have come full circle.” Sorrowfully looking at the stunned clients, he admitted he didn’t want to destroy their day. They should all know that these were the best lawyers in town. “They don’t come cheap, but then neither did my ex-wife. They get the job done. You hardly feel a thing,” he blurted out as he put his hands over his eyes to avert the inevitable tears.
“There, there,” Monica sympathetically said, as she gradually eased George back into the chair. Grabbing some tissues, she began mopping up his tears.
“Ah, there you are,” said John, as he escorted the client into his office. Softly closing the door, Monica could her John advising George that this would be a piece of cake, all he had to do was tell the trust.
“Tell the truth, "Stuttered George. “That is all I have ever done and look where it got me.” Shrugging his shoulders, he pointed to his bare wrist that once sported a gold Rolex watch.
Client number one down and two more left, thought Monica as she reached for Mrs. Lowenstein’s file.
Tapping Mrs. Lowenstein on the shoulder, the receptionist escorted the client and her latest boyfriend to Paul’s office. Handing the attorney the new file, Monica shut the door and formed a sly smirk on her face. This was Mrs. Lowenstein’s sixth visit to the office: the first as Mrs. Jackson, then Mrs. Vasquez, then Mrs. Alstaad, then Mrs. Jones, and now Mrs. Lowenstein. But her last name, guessed Monica, was about to change.
“Monica,” shouted an annoyed Paul, “Please bring me all of Mrs. Lowenstein’s files.”
Nodding, she located Lincoln, the staff legal assistant and official gofer, and asked him to round up all the client’s previously files. A half hour later, Lincoln, tapped on John’s door, with the stack of files so high, Lincoln appeared headless. The top file was so precariously balanced, it fell and was caught mid-air by the attorney.
“Thanks,” stated a still annoyed Paul. “Mr., ah I did not catch your name.”
“Just call me Jake,” said the boyfriend.
“Well, then Jake, can you give me and Mrs. Lowenstein some private time?” asked Paul.
On cue, Lincoln, knew exactly how to handle the situation and promptly escorted the boyfriend out of the office and into the waiting room.