Chapter 4

Monday morning, I made it in to work more or less on time after dropping the kids at school. Warren would be at the house at least through Thursday, so I called the number on the business card that Rajiv had given me. No, Lisa wasn't in, but she would call me back. I felt shunted aside.

Sanjit came into his cubicle, bubbling.

"You look happier today."

"So do you. Spill."

"My lawyer located my Immigration file last week. Seems that forty-two active files had all been placed in a file drawer that was assigned to storage of inactive files. They needed to find an inactive file so they could decide whether or not to block the visa of some poor Pakistani and went looking for his file, and found mine, and Raya's, and a bunch of others that had been 'misplaced.' And eight of the files were for folks needing 'improvement' of security clearances. So Senator Boxer 'requested' that our cases be expedited for our having been willing to obey the laws of our new country in the face of 'administrative misfeasance'. We get sworn in next week. You will come?"

"Of course. I guess I could take the day off."

"You deserve it."

He lowered his voice. "My phone has been ringing off the hook. Do you have a copy of my résumé?"

"You've forgotten what you've done, already? I know this place is bad for your mind... but, sheesh."

"I'd actually appreciate it if you could revise it. You're so much better with the clever wording. And you know what I've done for the last four years."

"Yeah, everything that I didn't."

"Herb, sometimes you are too cynical. Not everyone can see your smile."

"What would happen if we both left together?"

"Ah, that's why you've been smiling for the last two weeks. You've figured out how to escape?'

"No. I'm getting laid."

"You Americans are all alike. Give you a copy of Playboy, and you can't tell what part of America they're from."

"Wrong. Penthouse."

"You've got the Marketing marathon tomorrow. Bring coffee."

"Why? I was considering a flamethrower."

"You are a horrible cynic. If you look in your center drawer after lunch, you'll find a copy of the latest Marketing White Paper. Horrible, horrible cluelessness. Inane. Kill. Maim. Nuclear option. If we're going to go together, dead burnt bodies. The American way of convincing. None of that diplomacy stuff that us Asians are so fond of."

"Sanjit, you encourage the worst impulses in unstable Americans."

"And next Tuesday I'll be one of them. I have learned a lot from you. Even if you would not tell me the foreign policy differences between President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and President Theodore Roosevelt. I had to go to night school so that I could learn that. But you can tell me the difference between Jay Leno and Dave Letterman, and you do not even have a TV."

"It's in the blood."

"I'm not sure I'm ready. Do they give me a transfusion?"

"After the ceremony."

Lisa called me back. She couldn't meet today. But could Warren spend a few hours with her at her office or at the house tomorrow afternoon? It would be a bit of a marathon session, but she needed to understand what he and Kumar had done, and what they planned to do, so that the business could be structured properly. Rajiv and I would be signing the corporate documents, as trustees for our sons, but the corporation needed to stand on its own. This was just a normal service that Farzoun provided for its customers. Usually, introductions to Farzoun weren't usually so intense, but Rajiv was an old customer, and his company had another round of venture capital coming up, and his interests needed to be protected, post haste.

The doorbell rang Tuesday afternoon. I'd snuck out after the Marketing meeting had wound down, and had picked up Warren at school. One of Sarah's teammates' mom had offered to drive her over to their game, but I would have to be there by five thirty or so to pick her up at the end of the game.

"Warren, it's probably your private banker."

"Well, Kumar never did wrap his head around all of the piddling gory details, so I guess I'm up."

"Good afternoon."

She was medium height, a little shorter than me, and had curly brunette ringlets that rippled down to her shoulders. Trim but full figure. Thirty something? Probably. Hard to tell exactly. Not fresh out of college, but not with the wear marks that four decades adds to all of us. Conservative but expensive business suit. She held out a business card, and clutched a thin briefcase and held a designer purse.

"I'm Lisa. You're Herb? And where's Warren?"

He came to the door to greet her, and shook hands. He seemed more than a bit intimidated by the whole process.

She smiled.

"What we need to do is lay out what you've done with the business, what you want to do with the business, what it's doing, and where you see it going. Then we can come up with the proper corporate structure."

"Will you still be signing checks for Kumar?"

"Until I hand off the account. You guys need someone - not Rajiv - signing your corporate checks. That's not going to change. And I'm told that you don't want your mom to know the extent of the business."

"That's necessary. It protects my Dad, it protects Kumar, and it protects me."

"Is it OK if your Dad learns about the business now? For legal reasons, I need to have him present, as you're an unemancipated minor. And oh, yeah, this is protected by lawyer-client privilege. I'm also a lawyer."

She looked at me. "Boalt Hall. This is, sometimes, a lot more fun than straight-up legal practice."

Warren looked at me.

"Attorney-client privilege. OK. Dad, you're going to learn how big this thing is."

We sat down at the dining table and Lisa pulled out a form.

"OK Herb, you're going to have to sign this. Standard California Bar representation agreement. Fees paid by Kumar."

I glanced down the document. I'd seen enough of them until Karen had arrived with her Saint Jude Thaddeus medal. I signed.

"OK. Now the best way is for you to start at the beginning of what became the business, and I'll take notes and ask questions."

Kumar and Warren had started out trying to create an oil-cooled computer. Once it had worked, a year and a half ago, they had worked to reduce it to a repeatable product. They were creating kits to cool processors and video cards, and moving enough heat to provide a ten to fifteen percent speed boost for the overclockers. Kumar had put up a web site, and their run rate was now hitting fifty thousand dollars a month. They were going to have to move the business out of Rajiv's rec room and garage, rent industrial space, hire employees, and on and on.

Lisa looked at her watch.

"My God, it's five thirty and we're not done."

"I've got to pick up my daughter at soccer."

"Look, what makes the most sense is for us to pause, let Warren gather his thoughts, and then another half hour, forty five minutes or so, and we should be done. So why don't we all take a break and go pick up your daughter and get back here and pick up and complete?"

I muttered something about compressing four people into the Porsche.

"I'll drive. That way guarantees that I'll only be good for mindless chatter until we get back."

She had a new white RAV-4, and Warren hopped into the back.

"Oh, Junior Soccer. I may have to shake a few hands. I probably have three or four clients out there watching their kids."

We pulled up, and got out of the car. There was the usual crowd of parents watching the last few minutes of the game. Lisa nodded to some indistinct faces in the crowd. I saw a familiar head of blond curls suddenly get control of the ball at the far end of the field and start driving down towards us. I'd at least get a chance to see Sarah at work before the game ended. Two other girls also in pale blue came up alongside her for the run downfield. They raced together, passing the ball back and forth. Then the other two broke left with the ball, and Sarah broke right. Three defenders came up on the pair with the ball. Suddenly the ball crossed the field, and Sarah kicked it cleanly past the goalie. The steam went out of the girls in red, and it was clear that the last few minutes would not be played. Something had ended when Sarah kicked the goal, and the game was over. Suddenly everybody was congratulating her, even the opponents.