Participants:
Scene Title | Ground Floor |
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Synopsis | Regina — as she's calling herself at the moment — has had a wonderful money-making idea. And she finds a willing partner in Nisha. |
Date | January 11, 2011 |
The law offices of Cohen, Johnson, Blume, and Kotecha
"Miz Kotecha will see you now."
It serves the balance of stereotypes that the secretary that staffs the desk outside the youngest partner at Cohen, Johnson, Blume, and Kotecha is less feminine than his coworkers who hold similar positions for the others at the top rung of the firm. He's been eyeing Lynette's outfit as he's sat tacking spidery-fingers against his keyboard, occasionally picking up the phone to route calls and take messages, and now that it's time for her to trek past him and through the frosted glass doors to one of the perimeter offices, one slightly arched eyebrow heralds the promise that he'll inspect her as she leaves the small waiting area as well.
Luckily, Lynette's outfit is fashionable, at least. And she seems confident in it, despite the eyeing. And as she stands up, nodding her thanks to the secretary along her way, it's proven to also be a flattering outfit! But the woman — Regina Sinclair today — makes her way into the office wordlessly. There's a small knock before she heads inside, just a little heads up that she's incoming.
The office itself is one designed to give the "old boys" a certain degree of comfort. Dark woods, leather, and brass are the staples, with the palette broken up here and there with the jewel tones of ruby, emerald, with ivory and gold accenting them. It's a different story on the other side of the glass, where the furniture, though in line with the rest of the office, is paired with the cleaner lines of someone who can appreciate mid-century modern.
In the middle of it, behind the arch of an enviously organized desk, Nisha Kotecha tucks folders into a filing cabinet. She rises as Lynette enters and extends a hand as she moves around, her heels clicking on what bit of the hardwood floor isn't covered by area rugs. Her smile is genuine, but with the slight twinge of someone seeking to close a deal without being entirely sure what the deal is.
"Miss Sinclair," she says, only the slightest of British accents curling around her words, "Sorry to keep you waiting. Please," and she gestures to a large cream colored couch with her right hand, the few rings she wears clicking together with the motion, "have a seat. We'll get right to it, shall we?"
"It wasn't long," Lynette says, waving it off as she comes over to the couch to sit. "Mister Rowan said you would be a good person to contact about an idea that may skirt a grey area of the law. But I think there's a niche to fill." Mister Rowan being Jeremy Rowan, a very well established lawyer who works mostly on the west coast, but comes with a good reputation. "I was thinking of a nightclub, but one that would be open through the curfew, shutting it's doors at nine, but staying open until five when curfew ends. Give the city a little nightlife again."
Well groomed eyebrows arch with interest as Nisha joins Lynette - Regina - on the couch. She crosses her legs and leans a side against the back cushion, propping an elbow on the back of the couch and lacing her fingers together. A wider smile tugs onto her face at the mention of Jeremy Rowan's reccomendation.
If it weren't for businessmen wanting to skirt the law, lawyers like Nisha wouldn't have a job.
"Defintely a market for that," Nisha says with a nod, her eyes widening with financial hunger. "But it's the sort of thing where you'd have to have all your Ps and Qs in order, and your loopholes knotted tight. No room for error."
And Rowan thought of her. How sweet.
"Yes, which is why I decided on bringing in a professional. The law isn't exactly my strong point." Regina smiles crookedly there, before she turns to pull out a manilla envelope. "This is the proposal I sent Mister Rowan. He said it needed work," she reports wryly. "But it's a rough draft, anyway."
Nisha takes the envelope with grace, slipping the document out and giving it a quick glance, her brows furrowing with thought at the survey. "Have you done any other sort of legwork?" she asks as she flips through the pages. "Looked at any real estate, talked to any potential investors?"
But the lawyer doesn't wait too long for an answer before she's charging ahead, thinking aloud for the benefit of the client. "I definitely think I can lend you a hand here. Depending on how flexible you are." She pauses long enough to look up, squinting slightly at Lynette. "Is this your first venture in this business?"
"I've looked at some spaces, but I'm afraid I don't have the contacts for investors and the like. There's some rough figures as to how much would be needed to start, though." Regina smiles as the other woman jumps right in, though. Fantastic. "Ah, yes. Unless you count the time I spent as a cocktail waitress during college. But the good news is, I am quite flexible."
The lawyer's smile grows wider, and she nods gently. "Miss Sinclair, you have an excellent idea and an even better opportunity. I'm confident that we can make it work. I'll get some initial paperwork together, and then we can start shopping around for the rest." She extends her hand again, settling the proposal in her lap. "Jamie will be in touch - maybe a lunch meeting next time, to draft up a wish list of sorts?"
"Sounds perfect," Regina says, her smile widening as she takes Nisha's hand. "Thank you, it means a lot that you're willing to help. I suppose I owe Mister Rowan a thank you fruit basket or something," she adds with a chuckle.
"Mention it to Jamie on the way out, and the office will send something to him." It's only fair. Nisha rises, her smile making her eyes narrow slightly. It's a good day to be invited onto the ground floor of a controversial potential gold mine.
No matter what, the lawyer always gets paid.