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just how much this firm prizes its reputation for discretion.”
    “Of course not, sir,” I said. I tried to suppress the panic I was feeling. Was this about the Underwood contract? I’d screwed the pooch on that one, sure enough, but that had been over a year ago. I’d fixed the problem with the inter vivos transfer in the Cooper estate plan, and I thought I’d been yelled at enough for that screw-up as it was.
    “This applies equally to our professional pursuits as well as our personal lives. Both must be above reproach at all times.”
    That meant it wasn’t work-related, which was helpful but didn’t give me any clue as to what he was talking about. My personal life, such as it was, was technically “above reproach,” but that was mostly because I was too broke to lead the life of debauchery I aspired to.
    What was going on?
    “What you do with your time is your business,” Curlin said. “Unless it impacts the business of this firm, or our clients, or their interests. Then it becomes my business.”
    “I am not aware of any problems along those lines, sir,” I said. “Certainly not recently.” I couldn’t think of much in my past that would worry Curlin at this point. Were those photos I’d let that adjunct professor at Drexel take of me when I was an undergrad at Temple out on the Internet? Or had someone told him the story of that continuing legal education conference in Bermuda two years ago?
    “I am not aware of any problems along those lines, either,” he said. “All I know for certain is that our receptionist has taken twelve phone calls from various media outlets this morning, all of them either asking to speak to you or for information about you. The majority, I am told, have come from Gawker Media.”
    That should have been reassuring. It was not. It was one thing to have to address something that I had done at some point. I was confident I hadn’t done anything quite so awful as to attract media attention of any sort, much less from Gawker . That made their sudden inexplicable interest in me a total mystery. I don’t like mysteries. They make me itch. I tried my best to look comfortable, but all I wanted to do was to run into my office and slam the door and not come out until I understood what was going on.
    “There must be some mistake then,” I said. “I can’t imagine any reason that anybody at Gawker Media would have the least bit of interest in me.” Well, I could imagine a reason or two, but nothing that bore any relation to reality. I am a boring person and I have a dull life and I didn’t like the way this conversation was going.
    “I have no interest in having this firm’s good name dragged through the online scandal sheets,” Curlin said. “I hope you share that concern.”
    “I share that concern fervently,” I said.
    “Then we agree. You were planning on taking a long weekend, if I remember correctly?”
    “Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. I have to drive my mom to Cape May tonight for a funeral tomorrow morning,” I said.
    “Is there anything urgent that you’re working on today?”
    “I was trying to draft that memo you wanted about that case in Kentucky and how it related to the Massey prenup.”
    “Nothing urgent, then. That’s fine. You are, from this moment, on unofficial paid administrative leave. This will last until Monday morning, or whenever you are able to straighten this situation out, whichever comes first. Anyone who calls will be told that you aren’t available.”
    I did not like the way that any of that sounded.
    “Is this going to impact my bonus situation?” I asked. The firm always announced bonuses for associates in early April.
    “I certainly hope not,” Curlin said. “Think of this as a test. If you manage to figure out what in the name of General Washington is going on, and defuse the situation, there’s no reason why your compensation package should be affected at all. If you don’t manage to do that, well, we’ll discuss