“There’s nothing to see here except a lot of steel furniture and grubby offices. You’re in the Seagram Building, right?”
“Right.” Herbie gave him the floor number.
“I’ll come over just as soon as the market closes. See ya.” He hung up.
Herbie pressed a button. “Cookie, a Mr. Kent Holbrooke is coming over around four-thirty or five.”
“I’ll stay until we’ve got him settled,” Cookie replied.
“You can ask him if he wants a drink,” Herbie said.
At five sharp, Cookie ushered Kent Holbrooke into Herbie’s office, and they shook hands. Holbrooke settled into the sofa.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Cookie asked.
“You got a single-malt scotch?”
“How about Laphroaig?”
“Perfect. No ice, just a splash.”
Cookie made the drink and poured Herbie a Knob Creek, then made her escape.
“Nice office,” Kent said, looking around.
“Thank you.”
“You’re pretty young, Herb. How long have you been a partner at Woodman and Weld?”
“I’m a senior associate, one rung below partner.”
“Oh, right, Marshall mentioned that. I’ve never dealt with a lawyer who wasn’t a partner in his firm.”
“You’ll get more attention and faster results from a hungry senior associate,” Herbie said.
“Good point.”
“Tell me about your business,” Herbie said.
“Businesses. I’m involved in a dozen or fifteen, I keep losing track of how many.”
“How are you typically involved?”
“Sometimes just as a venture capitalist. I prefer that with tech stuff that I don’t have a deep understanding of. Sometimes in partnerships, and sometimes I own the business.”
“Are they all techs?”
“Oh, no. I don’t care what the business is, just as long as it produces profits. For instance, I own a little group of three fancy dry cleaners and laundries called Jasper’s.”
“Then I am your customer,” Herbie said. “You do all my suits and shirts.”
“And they’re all running full blast,” Kent said. “I’m thinking of opening on the Upper West Side.”
“Why don’t you centralize the work and put on a second shift?”
“That’s a thought.”
“And if it’s working so well, why don’t you franchise?” Herbie asked.