As You Wish - Part 5

As all the problems with Frank were happening, Remy was getting increasingly nervous. He'd pushed The Company to hire Frank, pay for Frank's bar exam, his bonus for "passing", etc. Plus if there were problems with Frank, guess who'd go back to doing more work? That's right - me. But before I did it, it'd be stopping at Remy's desk, and the thought of that stressed him out.

Meanwhile, I was having a bit of a nervous breakdown due to hating Florida and my life there. Golden Boy told me to take a vacation, come visit in San Francisco, and to bring a resume. Because Golden Boy is golden, he knows his vacations. So I listened, and put in for time off. While all this was going on with Frank, we moved our office. And as I said previously, Frank was given a cubicle rather than an office. And he was PISSED. But wait, don't be too upset because this was a temporary move. That's right - we were moving again in less than six months. When word got out that I was going on vacation to San Francisco, Frank told me one of his fraternity brothers had traveled to SF for a vacation, and never returned - he loved it so much he moved. I laughed - I wasn't the type to move across the country; that'd be ridiculous. Besides, it would take me months of planning! Or it'd take me less than a week.

I was actually visiting San Francisco and plotting my move West, while the legal department moved for the second time. When I got back to Florida (having given my notice over the phone, standing at Fisherman's Wharf, looking out at the Bay), Frank's dream had finally come true, and he had an office. Or a large closet with flimsy walls and no windows, but whatever. There was a door, and he could close it.

You're probably thinking that it was only because I was leaving that I laid out for the General Counsel and Remy why I doubted Frank's legitimacy. I think you'd be right. The details are boring, but there are a lot of liability issues when an attorney allows someone who is not an attorney to sign things only an attorney should be signing. You might say "but if they didn't know..." and for laypeople that excuse can work, but for attorneys? It's their job to have proof of things they act on.

Remy, true to form, tried to hide from the whole thing, and told me to do whatever the G.C. wanted. The G.C. told me to look up Frank's social security number and find out what states, if any, he was admitted to practice law in.

I started with Florida. I didn't just look him up in Martindale-Hubbell. I called Tallahassee, and spoke with people who worked for the Florida Bar. And then I called the state in New England he was from, and checked with them. I presented to both as a hypothetical, but Florida was interested right away, and wanted a name from me. I wish I'd asked if they blacklist people.

During this time, I was also trying to train my replacement, pack up my apartment in Florida (Freecycle came in handy), and wrap up loose ends at work, lest I leave a mess for my replacement.

After I'd returned from San Francisco, I got word that Talia wanted to speak with me urgently. I didn't really have time. We met in a hallway one day and she asked if I was moving to San Francisco. After I nodded she asked why. Whined it, kind of. I shook my head - I was too unhappy in Florida. It was unhealthy for me to be so unhappy. I didn't tell her that it was nore than "unhappy" - that it'd been a nervous breakdown and months of crying.

Talia gave me a shy smile. And told me she was moving to New York. I told her to look for a place to live in Queens rather than in Manhattan - it'd cost less but still be an easy commute. We hugged. If I saw Talia again before my last day, I can't remember it.

Meanwhile, I'd reported my findings about Frank to the General Counsel. He'd put the pressure on Frank, asking for the date of the swearing in, asking if Frank needed that day off, saying he needed proof Frank passed the bar to add him to the Company's insurance policy.

The Brother, whose office was now in the new Legal Department, knew what was going on, and was worried. He wanted the truth. I was instructed to call New England, and find out if there was reciprocity between that state and Florida. Grasping at straws. I called; there isn't. But now New England is interested. I'd presented it to them as a hypothetical. They're cool with that - people are always paranoid when they report someone.

New England asked me if I happened to have the phone number for the Florida Bar handy. Why yes, I do. New England asked for the name of the person I was calling about. I put them on hold. This was the moment when I was about to totally kill someone's legal career. That's a big deal; I could not make this decision and walked into the General Counsel's office to tell him what part of the conversation we were up to.

"Green, Remy and I could be disbarred. You want me to talk to them?" I knew they could be disbarred. I knew there could be a huge lawsuit. Oh, did I mention The Company was trying to go public at the time and couldn't afford any bad publicity?

I got back on the phone. "Thanks for holding. It's not a hypothetical. His name is Frank XX." They asked if I was an attorney. "No, but I can put you on the phone with the General Counsel if you'd like." Turns out they didn't need that. My guess is that if I'd been an attorney, they'd have looked at my record.

Frank didn't show up for work my last week in Florida. For two days we couldn't reach him. Then someone saying he was a friend called the office, claiming Frank had been in a motorcycle accident and was in the hospital. Bullshit. I asked the guy which hospital, saying The Company would want to send flowers. He stumbled around a bit before coming up with a hospital name.

Immediately after sharing the news of Frank's alleged accident, I was instructed by The Brother and G.C. to look up the phone number of the hospital and call to ask if Frank was there. I was NOT to dial the number the friend had given me. So I did. They said they couldn't give out patient information. Fucking HIPPA laws. I asked the woman, "If someone was there due to a motorcycle accident, they'd have been in your ER first, before being admitted, right? Can you tell me if he was in the ER?" HIPPA laws prevented that too.

I explained that we believed someone was lying about being in the hospital to avoid coming to work. She told me she could not violate confidentiality. I responded that I certainly understood that, and then she asked for the spelling of Frank's last name. South Florida is so corrupt. After spelling it, I was told nobody by that last name had been through the ER in the last month. The Company never heard from Frank again, and of course, couldn't reach him.

Less than a week later I was living in San Francisco. Frank was disbarred from New England. Per Google, he was last working in Texas, but not as a lawyer. I noticed the person he was working with was a graduate of his law school, and a member of his fraternity. I wonder what he told his frat brother about why he left Florida.

If you're going to lie about being a lawyer, it's best to lie to people who won't think to check the truth. Lie to the plumber, the pizza guy, a cab driver. Don't lie at work.

If you're going to be a liar, be good at it. Liars really do have tells. Frank's tell was his shit-eating grin.

If you're going to be evasive, know where to draw the line. Of course it's fine to not decorate your work space with personal things if you don't want to. But give your office a way to reach you in an emergency.

And that's how it all went down.