Chapter 7 - GAVIN’S LAW FIRM CALLED ME
Three months later, Meridian Arc’s general counsel called.
“Ethan, do you have five minutes?”
“Sure.”
“We’re reviewing outside legal spend.”
That was normal.
Then she mentioned Gavin’s firm.
My stomach tightened.
I had forgotten something.
Six years earlier, I recommended Gavin’s law firm for a cybersecurity-contracting project.
Not Gavin personally.
The firm.
A partner named Helen Price had built an excellent technology practice.
Meridian Arc eventually became a meaningful client.
Not their largest.
Large enough.
Gavin had always known my company used his firm.
He apparently never knew the scale of our account because Helen managed it and I intentionally stayed out of legal-procurement decisions involving family.
Good governance.
My GC continued:
“Gavin requested to become relationship partner on the account.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
I laughed once.
Of course.
“Reason?”
“He says there are family efficiencies.”
No.
Absolutely not.
I told our general counsel:
“Please keep ordinary procurement criteria.”
“I’m recusing myself from any decision involving his role.”
“If Helen’s team is performing well, do not move work because of my family issue.”
She paused.
“That’s exactly why I called.”
Good.
We documented my conflict.
The firm kept the work.
Gavin did not become relationship partner.
He called me furious.
“You blocked me.”
“No.”
“Then why did Helen reject the transfer?”
“Ask Helen.”
“She said client conflict protocols.”
“Correct.”
“You’re the client.”
“My company is the client.”
“Not me personally.”
He went quiet.
I continued:
“I specifically told them not to remove work from your firm because of our personal conflict.”
That surprised him.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I meant what I said.”
“This is not revenge.”
Silence.
Then Gavin laughed bitterly.
“You know what’s awful?”
“What?”
“I spent years thinking you were the jealous brother.”
“Turns out I was.”
That stopped me.
He continued:
“Every time Mom praised your parenting, I talked about my job.”
“When you bought that old Highlander, I bought the Mercedes.”
“When Caleb won the school art contest, I started talking about Grant’s travel team.”
“I needed to win something.”
I sat quietly.
“Why?”
He whispered:
“Because Dad always compared us.”
That was true.
Dad called Gavin brilliant.
Me dependable.
At thirteen, labels feel like identities.
Gavin became success.
I became usefulness.
Neither of us noticed how much adulthood we spent protecting assignments given to children.
He said:
“I’m in therapy.”
“I guessed.”
“How?”
“The apology nouns.”
He laughed.
Good.
Then:
“Naomi and I aren’t doing well.”
I did not celebrate.
“She thinks I lied about our finances.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“At first because I was embarrassed.”
“Then because the lie became easier.”
Familiar pattern.
I said:
“Fix your marriage because you want to.”
“Not because you think I can.”
May you like
“I know.”
This time, I believed him.
