Free Unnatural Acts by Stuart Woods

calls.”
    “Sure, I guess that’s a good idea.”
    “The architect needs to design you an office layout, too, and you need to start making this place look more businesslike. You should all dress better, too. I don’t mean you should wear Brooks Brothers suits, just not jeans—and the clothes should be freshly laundered. The media are going to want to talk to you soon, and you should be ready for them. Think Steve Jobs.”
    “Funny, that’s what my girlfriend says—all that stuff about the building, too.”
    “Give me your landlord’s name, and go back to work, then I’ll get to work buying the building.”
    Mark took a card from his wallet. “Mrs. Friedrich,” he said, handing Herbie the card. He went back to his desk.
    Herbie picked up the phone on the picnic table and called the number.
    “Hello?”
    “Mrs. Friedrich?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hi, my name is Herbert Fisher. I’m an attorney representing your tenant, Mark Hayes.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    “No, nothing like that. Mark has asked me to make you an offer of five million dollars for the building.”
    “I told him I wanted six.”
    “He’s a young man just getting started, but he can raise five million.”
    “Oh, all right. When do you want to close?”
    “Is the building entailed? Is there a mortgage?”
    “No, I own it free and clear.”
    Herbie gave her his office number and cell. “Have your attorney call me to set up the closing. I’ll get Mark to raise the money, and we can close in a few days.”
    “All cash?”
    “All cash.”
    “You tell Mark he’s got a deal.”
    “I’ll do that. Thanks, Mrs. Friedrich.” Herbie hung up and shouted across the room, “Mark, you’ve got the building!”
    Mark gave him a thumbs-up without looking away from his monitor.
    Herbie called Mike Freeman at Strategic Services.
    “Good morning, Herb.”
    “Good morning, Mike. I want to thank you for your advice and for your very kind offer. I was promoted to senior associate yesterday, and I got my first client this morning, a software start-up. I’vejust bought them a building, but it’s completely without any kind of security, physical or electronic. Can you get something done about that?”
    “Give me the address and the name of the company.”
    Herbie recited the information.
    “I’ll have a team down there in two hours, maybe sooner.”
    “I’ll be here to meet them.” Herbie thanked him, hung up, and called James Rutledge, an architect he’d met through Stone Barrington who had left
Architectural Digest
to start his own firm.
    “How are you, Herbie?”
    “I’m just great, Jim, and from now on, it’s Herb. I got promoted, so I need a grown-up name. How’s business?”
    “I’ve got a couple of leads—nothing definite yet.”
    “I’ve got something definite for you, Jim. Write down this information.”
    “Got it. What’s the job?”
    “A six-story industrial building to be transformed into the offices of a new software company, very promising, and very well financed by Marshall Brennan. Can you come over here right now?”
    “Gee, let me check my schedule. I see that I’m free. I’ll try not to break my neck hurrying over there. Bye.” Rutledge hung up.
    Herbie hung up, too.
    “Wow,” Bobby Bentley said. “That’s moving! Does it bother you that a lot of this has nothing to do with practicing law?”
    “It all has everything to do with helping a client,” Herbie said. “By the end of the day, Mark Hayes won’t ever make another move without consulting me. You get back to the office, find the best intellectual property lawyer in the firm, and start making a list of every document we have to generate, every permit we need, and every patent and copyright application we need. But first, askEggers’s secretary to generate a legal services contract for Mark to sign, and rush messenger it down here. Oh, and get a title search on this building started.”
    “I’m on it,” Bobby said, running for the door.
    James Rutledge was