The Associate Read Online Free PDF Page A

president. Your academic record is impressive, yet you managed to also maintain a pretty active social life. Tell me about your first arrest.”
“I'm sure you have the records in your file there.”
“Your first arrest, Kyle.”
“Only one. A first, not a second. Not until now, I guess.”
“What happened?”
"Typical frat stuff. A loud party that didn't stop until the cops showed up. I got caught with an open container, a bottle of beer. Nitpicking stuff. Misdemeanor. I paid a fine of three hundred bucks and
got six months' probation. After that, the record was expunged and Yale never knew about it."
“Did your father handle it?”
“He was involved, but I had a lawyer in Pittsburgh.”
“Who?”
“A lady named Sylvia Marks.”
“I've heard of her. Doesn't she specialize in stupid fraternity stunts?”
“That's her. But she knows her stuff.”
“I thought there was a second arrest.”
“No. I was stopped by the cops once on campus, but there was no arrest. Just a warning.”
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why were you stopped?”
“A couple of fraternities were shooting bottle rockets at each other. Smart boys. I was not involved. Nothing went in my file, so I'm wondering how you heard about it.”
Wright ignored this and wrote something on his legal pad. When he finished scribbling, he said, “Why did you decide to go to law school?”
“I made that decision when I was twelve years old. I always wanted to be a lawyer. My first job was running the copier in my father's office. I sort of grew up there.”
“Where did you apply to law school?”
“Penn, Yale, Cornell, and Stanford.”
“Where were you accepted?”
“All four.”
“Why Yale?”
“It was always my first choice.”
“Did Yale offer scholarship money?”
“Financial incentives, yes. So did the others.”
“Have you borrowed money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Do you really need to know?”
“I wouldn't ask the question if I didn't need to know. You think I'm talking just to hear myself talk?”
“I can't answer that.”
“Back to the student loans.”
“When I graduate in May, I'll owe about sixty thousand.”
Wright nodded as if he agreed that this was the correct amount. He flipped another page, and Kyle could see that it, too, was covered with questions.
“And you write for the law journal?”
“I'm the editor in chief of the Yale Law Journal.”
“That's the most prestigious honor in the school?”
“According to some.”
“You clerked last summer in New York. Tell me about it.”
“It was one of those huge Wall Street firms, Scully & Pershing, a typical summer clerkship. We were wined and dined and given easy hours, the same seduction routine all the big firms use. They pamper the clerks, then kill them when they become associates.”
“Did Scully & Pershing offer you a position after graduation?”
“Yes.”
“Did you accept or decline?”
“Neither. I have not made a decision. The firm has given me some additional time to decide.”
“What's taking so long?”
“I have a few options. One is a clerkship for a federal judge, but he might get a promotion. Things are in limbo there.”
“Do you have other job offers?”
“I had other offers, yes.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Is this really relevant?”
“Everything I say is relevant, Kyle.”
“Do you have any water?”
“I'm sure there's some in the bathroom.”
Kyle jumped to his feet, walked between the king-sized bed and the credenza, switched on the light in the cramped bathroom, and ran tap water into a flimsy plastic cup. He gulped it, then refilled. When he returned to the table, he placed the cup somewhere around his own twenty-yard line, then checked himself on the monitor. “Just curious,” he said. “Where's the football right now?”
“Third and long. Tell me about the other job offers, the other firms.”
“Why don't you just show me the video so we can skip all this bullshit? If it really exists, and if it implicates me,