Day in the Life of a Rainmaker

By CHRISTOPHER WOODARD

Contributing Reporter

A Hollywood executive has been fired. He’s hurt, angry and ready to sue his former employer, and he’s turned to Brian O’Neill, a founding partner of O’ Neill, Lysaght & Sun LLP, for a little fatherly advice.

O’Neill, sitting behind his desk on the 7th floor of 100 Wilshire Blvd. in Santa Monica, jots a few notes on a legal pad as he patiently listens to the client’s gripes. Considering that O’Neill makes his living as a trial attorney, his advice seems counter-intuitive. Move on with your life and forward with your career.

Filing a lawsuit, he explains, could cause irreparable harm to your reputation in town. Better to let it go for now. You could always decide to sue later.

“Nine times out of 10 in these cases it’s not about the money,” says O’Neill. “People just don’t like the feeling they’re getting screwed.”

At 61, O’Neill is one of the deans of L.A. rainmakers. He’s among an elite band of lawyers responsible for bringing in millions of dollars annually to their respective firms.

O’Neill works primarily as a criminal defense lawyer, representing individual and corporate clients facing prosecution for everything from securities fraud to tax evasion. But he handles any number of other clients, including Michael Bay, the director of “Armageddon” in his lawsuit against Merrill Lynch over alleged rogue trading, coach Bill Fitch in his contract dispute with the L.A. Clippers, and Roy Olofson, Global Crossing’s former vice president of finance, in a defamation lawsuit against company executives.

For O’Neill, being a successful rainmaker isn’t about glad-handing clients. It’s about conveying a sense of competence and confidence, being able to offer the wisdom and experience to guide people through difficult problems.

“I don’t go around entertaining clients, taking them out to dinner. I’d much rather go out and have dinner with my wife,” says O’Neill, whose corner office commands a panoramic view of the Pacific. “I get business because I do good work.”

With his graying hair and tortoise-shell glasses, O’Neill looks the part of the sage advisor. The second child in an Irish Catholic family of 11, he grew up in Santa Monica, attending Saint Monica High School and playing varsity basketball.

O’Neill says he was into his second year at Notre Dame when his professors concluded that he lacked focus. They shipped him off to the career counselor, who concluded O’Neill was best suited for a job as a journalist or an attorney. “I decided there’s a lot more money in the latter,” he says.

Experience with U.S. Attorney

After graduating from Fordham Law School, O’Neill landed a job with the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Los Angeles, eventually working his way up to chief of the major frauds unit.

It was real cops and robbers stuff, he recalls wire tapping, grand juries.

With his experience as a federal prosecutor, O’Neill joined what was then Manatt, Phelps in 1974 and quickly recognized the importance of connections provided by Charles Manatt, one-time head of the Democratic National Committee.

In 1982, O’Neill left Manatt to open his own practice, establishing a niche handling white-collar cases. Many of the larger firms didn’t do a lot of work in that arena. At the same time, they needed a law firm they felt comfortable sending clients to.

The big firms live in a very conservative culture, says O’Neill. “They’re not going to send a valued client to some guy who takes off work because ‘The surf’s breakin’, dude.'”

It’s just before noon and time for a conference call that has to do with a financing deal that went south. Partner Luan Phan steps in and gives O’ Neill a quick briefing.

The case involves a publicly traded company that lost money in a deal with foreign investors. O’Neill quickly shifts gears from wrongful termination to discussing debentures and the minutia of securities law. Phan appears in command as he sums up the issues and outlines the legal strategy.

O’Neill is involved in part for show, to let the client know he’s closely involved. But it’s evident that he understands the nuances of the case. The client, an attorney himself, asks specific questions and O’Neill offers a clear course of action that should be taken.

After the call, O’Neill has time for a quick turkey on rye while awaiting his next client. While munching his lunch, O’Neill ponders what it takes to be an effective rainmaker. Early on in his practice, he learned the importance of being perceived as a success.

“When I went out on my own, and people asked how I was doing, and I’d always say ‘I’m doing great,'” says O’Neill. The truth, he says, is people want to be around winners. Also, a good rainmaker needs to be able to analyze complex legal issues and explain them in a way people can understand.

Authority on litigation

O’Neill has worked diligently to establish himself as an authority on criminal and civil litigation. He’s written several books and articles on such topics as using RICO laws in civil cases, the role of experts and consultants in complex cases and the criminal consequences of SEC investigations.

He is also active in the California and American bar associations and teaches seminars for the National Institute for Trial Advocacy. He has served as a commentator on CNN for such high-profile cases as the O.J. Simpson trial.

Writing an article, teaching a law seminar or taking the time to get to know someone might not translate immediately into work, but at some point it may. An attorney who has read one of his articles or attended one of his seminars might just steer a client O’Neill’s way. Someone he met playing golf might need some advice.

Bruce Jeffer, managing partner of Jeffer, Mangels, Butler & Marmaro LLP, worked with O’Neill years ago when they were both at Manatt. He described O’Neill as gregarious and well connected. “He has good street smarts and a wealth of good common sense people like,” he said.

Being friendly and able to make a connection is hugely important for any good rainmaker, Jeffer added. “You can be a spectacular technician, but if you don’t inspire confidence nobody will listen to you.”

Take the entertainment industry executive O’Neill advised that day. He had no qualms about telling the client it was not advisable to sue. O’Neill didn’t even plan to bill the executive for his time. “I look at it as part of the cost of business development,” he says. “Besides, in four years this person will probably be running this town. Maybe they’ll need me then.”

With a signal from his secretary, O’Neill grabs his plate with what’s left of his lunch and heads out to the reception area to meet his next client, an executive of a non-profit agency under investigation by the U.S. Attorney’s Office for alleged misappropriation of government funds. O’Neill, dressed casually in a V-neck sweater and slacks, warmly greets his client and asks if he would like a sandwich. O’Neill leads the man through the office to a conference room, exchanging pleasantries and talking about shared acquaintances in the political arena.

While O’Neill meets with his client, Managing Partner John Moscarino talks about the importance of rainmakers to the firm. O’Neill, Lysaght & Sun has 19 attorneys, making it tiny by L.A. standards. The firm prospers because it has O’Neill and senior partners Brian Lysaght and Brian Sun who attract some big-name clients. Part of the new business stems from the principals’ extensive network of contacts, and partly from the recognition they gain by handling high-profile cases. O’Neill, for instance, helped Waste Management Inc., win dismissal of a 25-count indictment accusing the company with securities fraud and theft of trade secrets.

Lysaght, who handles complex litigation in commercial cases, is credited with winning four of the top 10 jury verdicts in the state over the last six years. “We have a reputation as go get em trial attorneys with a good, hard approach, says Moscarino.

O’Neill pops out of his meeting, promising to contact the U.S. Attorney himself to see if he can determine what his beef is and see if he can’t work out a solution.

Back at his desk, he leans back in his chair and declares himself a lucky man. His clients tend to be smart, interesting people with compelling stories to tell. Plus, he’s careful not become a workaholic, generally putting in no more than 10 hours a day. “And I get paid for this?” he says.

Being an effective rainmaker is often simply a matter of taking an interest in folks.

“People who come to us face a problem that can be career or even life threatening,” he says. “All they’re looking for is someone who pays attention to their problem, cares about it and takes it personally.”