The Justice Game

Part III: Adversaries
12

Eight weeks later

Kelly Starling snuck a discreet glance at her watch, taking care to ensure the recruit sitting across her desk didn’t notice. She liked this young man-Geoff, a second-year from Georgetown with good grades and a track record of serious community service. Kelly’s firm, one of the largest and most prestigious on K Street in downtown Washington, surely could have used another idealist like Kelly. But she knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“I read the article about your work with victims of human trafficking,” Geoff said, admiration flashing in his eyes. “It’s one of the things that attracted me to the firm.”

He was talking about a two-year-old Washington Post story detailing the way young women were lured to America with the promise of jobs and then forced into prostitution or pornography to pay off insurmountable debts. As a second-year associate at Burgess and Wicker, Kelly had started taking a few of those cases pro bono -filing suits to wipe out the women’s debts and pushing prosecutors to indict the men who brought them here. The article made great press, and now B amp;W included it in all their marketing and recruiting materials, as if the firm had a serious commitment to pro bono work.

Kelly had retold the story in dozens of interviews, mesmerizing law students with a side of D.C. most of them never knew existed. At the same time, she was careful not to imply that they might have a shot at being another Kelly Starling. B amp;W was interested in billable hours, not crusades.

Kelly was one of a kind-a fortunate beneficiary of publicity that had helped the firm’s image and eased the conscience of its senior partners as they hauled down more than a million a year. One Kelly Starling was good for a firm like B amp;W, softening its image. The firm “cover girl,” the other associates had labeled her. But a bunch of Kelly Starlings would destroy the financial model of the firm, butchering the cash cow that funded Bentleys for the partners and college educations for their kids and plastic surgery for their spouses.

Stifling a yawn, Kelly told Geoff her sex-trafficking story, leaving out the gory details in a PG-13 version of the events. Most recruits expressed horror that such things could go on right under their government’s nose in the nation’s capital. A few of the more confident male recruits-usually former jocks-would try to flirt a little or let Kelly know that they might have taken matters into their own hands and busted a few heads when nobody was looking.

Kelly was used to this-men trying to impress. She had been a swimmer in high school, fast enough to earn a few college scholarships, which she had promptly declined. She still tried to stay in shape, but her sedentary job was taking its toll. Plus, there were some things you couldn’t fix at the gym.

To her own critical eye, her shoulders were a bit too broad, and she lacked the curves of most women her age, compensating instead with toned arms and flat abs. She still remembered the article they ran in her hometown paper in high school. It was probably supposed to be a compliment, but it didn’t seem that way to a sixteen-year-old girl who had grown to an awkward five-ten: She has the perfect swimmer’s body. Her posture is gangly, loose and cocky, like a teenage boy’s. Her body resembles an inverted triangle-broad shoulders, long torso, thin hips-and provides a significant advantage in leverage over the other more muscular female swimmers she regularly beats.

An inverted triangle-not exactly an endorsement for Hollywood’s next leading lady. But it worked for Kelly. Some said she had “natural” beauty, probably a backhanded comment on the fact that Kelly wore little makeup and kept her dirty-blonde hair short and layered, requiring minimal fuss between her morning swim and hitting the office. More honest assessors used the word handsome to describe her slender face, an adjective perhaps engendered by the firm jaw or high forehead. She squinted when she smiled, flashing dimples and perfectly aligned white teeth, thanks to the wonder of orthodontics.

The Washington Post article had called her a cross between Dara Torres and Greta Van Susteren-quite a stretch in Kelly’s opinion. The same article had described her as somewhat obsessive, an “A+++ personality,” in the words of the reporter. The fact that Kelly could still remember the exact quotes nearly two years later probably proved them right.

In any event, the recruiting director at B amp;W was no dummy-she sent Kelly nearly twice as many male law students as females.

But Geoff didn’t try to play it cool or demonstrate his machismo. “That’s amazing,” he said after Kelly finished. “I would have never had the guts to do half that stuff.”

Geoff was big and a little goofy, his blond hair moussed into spikes, but his transcript was littered with As. If B amp;W hired him, he would be stuck in the library, researching complicated tax shelter schemes or leveraged buyouts. He wouldn’t have a minute to spare for the homeless or elderly.

Kelly wrapped up the interview as efficiently as possible and ushered Geoff to the next attorney’s office five minutes early. She walked quickly back to her office so she could fill out the interview form before her next appointment. She gave Geoff a few scores below five on a scale of one to ten, low enough to guarantee he wouldn’t make the cut. Kelly really liked the kid, so much so that she wasn’t willing to subject him to the pressure cooker at B amp;W. Only the strong survived at Kelly’s firm. Her partners would chew Geoff up and spit him out.