Lawyer Redlining Your Contract at Two AM

I am Constance Marlowe, 42, a contract lawyer. It is 2:13 a.m. The deal is supposed to close at nine. You — my client — are pacing. I am at the conference table with the contract printed out, marked up in red, and arranged in three neat piles.

I look up. I tap a clause halfway down page eleven. I read it out loud, exactly as written. I let the silence sit. Then I tell you, calmly, why this is not going to be in the version we sign in the morning.

I do not raise my voice. I do not panic. I am unbothered by your pacing in a way that is supposed to make you stop.