Chapter 39: The Fall
Day 175 started normally.
I arrived at 6:58 AM, grabbed Colombian roast, settled at my desk to review Meridian Tech's latest compliance filing.
Jessica's assistant emailed at 9:47 AM.
Mr. Roden - Ms. Pearson requests your immediate presence. Senior Partner Brooks will also attend.
Senior Partner Brooks. That's never good.
I confirmed and spent twenty minutes trying not to spiral into anxiety.
[WIN RATE CALCULATOR: EMERGENCY ASSESSMENT]
[PROBABILITY OF POSITIVE OUTCOME: 23%]
[PROBABILITY OF DISCIPLINARY ACTION: 61%]
[PROBABILITY OF TERMINATION: 16%]
Twenty-three percent chance this goes well. Not great odds.
Jessica's office felt smaller than usual.
Brooks was already there, sitting in the chair I usually took. I stood.
"Mr. Roden," Brooks said without preamble. "You were observed having dinner with Richard Whitmore last week. Thursday evening, off-firm time, personal capacity."
They're watching me outside the office.
"Mr. Whitmore is a client. We discussed his charitable foundation's legal structure."
"Outside of billable hours? Without firm oversight?"
"I was providing client service."
Jessica cut through.
"You're building personal relationships with firm clients outside official engagement scope. That's problematic."
I kept my voice level.
"I'm building client loyalty. That benefits the firm."
Jessica's expression hardened.
"It benefits you. These clients are loyal to Scott Roden, not Pearson Hardman. That's what concerns us."
Here it comes.
[WIN RATE CALCULATOR: UPDATING]
[PROBABILITY OF POSITIVE OUTCOME: 18%]
[ESCAPE SCENARIOS: MINIMAL]
[ASSESSMENT: TRAPPED]
Brooks left after ten more minutes of accusations disguised as questions.
Jessica and I sat alone.
"You're building your own network inside my firm. Robert Chen, Whitmore family, Meridian Tech—they all call you directly, not through firm channels."
"Because I deliver results. Isn't that what associates should do?"
"Associates should make partners look good. You're making yourself look good. That's different."
My hands tightened on the chair arms.
"Is it? Or is the problem that I'm building a practice that doesn't require Harvey's approval or your direct control?"
Jessica stood, walked to her window—the power move she always used when delivering bad news.
"This isn't about control. It's about trust. I can't trust that you're committed to this firm's success versus your personal advancement."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
She turned back to face me.
"They are when you're positioning for a portable practice. You've built client relationships that could leave with you. That's an exit strategy."
She's decided. This meeting isn't about convincing her. It's about managing my departure.
"Here's the situation," Jessica said, returning to her desk. "You're talented. Your work is excellent. Your clients love you."
She paused.
"But you're also exactly the type of lawyer who becomes a problem—too independent, too ambitious, too willing to build outside firm structures."
"So what happens now?"
Jessica's expression was professionally neutral.
"We call this 'mutual parting.' You get severance, neutral reference, time to find a new position. In exchange, you leave quietly, no clients leave with you, no drama."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I find cause to terminate you, and you leave with nothing."
[WIN RATE CALCULATOR: FINAL ASSESSMENT]
[ACCEPT TERMS: 67% PROBABILITY OF QUALITY PLACEMENT]
[REJECT TERMS: 12% PROBABILITY OF SUCCESSFUL LEGAL CHALLENGE]
[RECOMMENDATION: ACCEPT - MINIMIZE DAMAGE]
Checkmated. She wins either way.
"I accept the terms. When?"
"Two weeks' notice. Thank you for your service, Mr. Roden."
Dismissed. Like I was never here.
I left her office on autopilot, the hallway too bright, sounds too loud.
Ten months. Exceptional performance. Partnership track.
Gone.
Louis was waiting at my desk, face pale.
"Jessica told me. Scott, I'm sorry. I tried to defend you—"
"It's not your fault."
"This is wrong. You're one of the best associates this firm has."
I started gathering personal items from my desk.
"I'm an associate who doesn't fit the model. That's worse than being mediocre."
Louis looked like he wanted to argue, then just sagged.
"What will you do?"
"Find somewhere that appreciates independence instead of punishing it."
Associates were whispering. Jennifer Park watched with poorly concealed satisfaction. Mike looked genuinely upset.
Donna appeared as I was packing the last box.
"I heard."
"I got fired for doing exactly what they hired me to do—excel."
Her expression was fierce.
"You got fired for threatening the established order. That's how power protects itself."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No. But it's supposed to make you understand this isn't about you failing. It's about them fearing you succeeding."
She touched my arm briefly, then left before anyone could comment.
I finished packing and walked out of Pearson Hardman at 3:47 PM.
Ten months. Built something real. And they destroyed it because I built it wrong.
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