Big Law (12 page)

I ran my fingers across the face of the card. It was discolored and tattered, but I could see Uncle Nigel’s picture smiling back at me. Even in a photo that resembled a mug shot, he was smiling.

“It’s my World Trade Center photo ID. They found hundreds of them in the rubble and returned them to us. I used to keep it in my office. Sort of a reminder of what life is all about.”

“Thank you for this,” I said, unconsciously holding the card to my heart. “It really means a lot to me.” I stood up to give him a hug. “It’s
your retirement party, though—you’re supposed to be
getting
the gifts, not giving them.”

He smiled. “I’m just so proud of you, Mac. Everyone is. Thanks for coming out here for all this.” He gestured to the sounds of the still bustling party.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Just don’t let it be another
four months
before you come out here again,” he teased.

“I won’t. Promise.” And at the time, I believed it was true.

D
ID
I
LEAVE THE
lights on in my office when I left last night?
For a brief moment I marveled at how strange it felt to even say it in my mind:
my
office. Sadir had finally moved out into his own office two days ago—long past time for a third year associate, but there’d been a shortage—leaving me the coveted spot by the window. I’d have another officemate in a few weeks when the office shuffle settled, but right now I was relishing having my own space.

I’m certain I turned the lights off and closed the door.
I’d gone home around three in the morning to sleep for a few hours, take a shower, and change into my suit of armor. Instinctively, I knew I would need a pick-me-up today, so I’d selected my favorite black, stretch-wool suit with a silk chiffon tank, complemented by beige Louboutin leather pumps. Slung over my shoulder, like a soldier’s machine gun, was my leather Alexander Wang flap messenger bag. I was dressed for battle. I might be taking my orders from a sergeant who needed medication to control his anger issues and sharing the barracks with a she-devil, but it didn’t matter. In my suit of armor, I
felt
like a lawyer. Invincible.

At the moment, though, wariness crept through my bleary mind. Was someone in there? It was only 8:00
A.M
.—too early for Rita to be at work. I quickened my step and charged into my office just as the intruder reached out her arm.

“Mackenzie!” Sarah paused in the act of dropping a marked-up document on my desk. “Look who finally decided to come into work today.” I noticed a slight shake in her voice.

“What are you doing in my office, Sarah?” My eyes narrowed.

A strange expression flashed on her face and I swear it was the same one that I’d witnessed when I saw her in the corner of the bar, but it was swiftly replaced with her default expression of indignation. “Giving you this.” She held up the clipped pages, marked up in angry red. “My secretary isn’t in until nine and the word pro center is jammed—said it will take them five hours to get it back to me—so I need you to turn these changes.”

I felt my blood start to simmer.
I will not let her penetrate my suit of armor. I will not let her penetrate my suit of armor.
“I have too much on my plate to do that,” I said resolutely.

Her thin lips curled into a smirk. “Well, maybe you don’t realize how it works around here, but shit flows downstream.” She motioned from herself to me. “These changes need to be inputted this morning. It’s for Saul.”

“I really don’t have time, I have —”

“Mackenzie,” she interrupted, waving me away impatiently. “Let me ask you this.” Her eyes burrowed into mine and I returned the full force eye contact. “Did you sleep last night?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Sleep. Last. Night.” She paused between each word.

I glared at her through my eyebrows, the tension between us so thick you would need a chainsaw to cut it. “Yes,” I finally croaked, unclenching my teeth just enough to speak.

“Then you have time.” She tossed the document on my desk. And even though the desire to whip off my messenger bag, swing it around like an Olympic decathlete, and hurdle it towards her smug face filled every fiber of my being, I simply followed her with my eyes as she sauntered out of my office.

“Saul’s expecting it by eleven,” she called on her way out.

I collapsed in my chair, letting out a long, exasperated breath. An odd sensation filled my body, the kind you feel when you think someone was in your house when you weren’t there. Scooting my chair up to the keyboard, I vowed I would not let Sarah get to me today, but the heat under my cheeks told me she already had.

“This is a great idea.” I wrapped my arm through Jason’s arm as we made our way across 86th Street towards Central Park.

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve been outside on a Saturday.” He leaned into me, kissing me on the head. “I figured a walk in the park is just what you need.”

I’d strategically cleared my Saturday morning to spend some much needed time with Jason. Despite being finished with the document at ten in the evening on Friday, I waited until three in the morning to send Ben a draft of the purchase agreement for his review, knowing that move would buy me a break from the Highlander deal for the day. Ben hated working on Saturdays, thanks to his standing Saturday morning tee time at Scarsdale Country Club. He wouldn’t get back to me about the draft until Sunday, leaving my Saturday evening free to catch up on the due diligence in the war room. My moratorium from the Falcon deal, on the other hand, was just luck. I hadn’t heard anything from Saul or Sarah since I’d sent them the revised purchase agreement at 11:00
A.M
. yesterday, just as Sarah had demanded. Since then it had been eerily silent.

“It is just what I need.” I inhaled deeply, basking in the fresh air of freedom. It was one of those beautiful New York City late fall days, the kind that you want to bottle up and store to get you through the winter. It looked like everyone in the entire city was out and about taking advantage of it, pushing baby strollers, carrying shopping bags, riding bikes.

We pushed through the doors of Starbucks. “The usual?” Jason asked and I nodded, marveling in the comfortable feeling of being with someone who knew my usual Starbucks order. Looking at him, so handsome in his perfectly fitted cashmere sweater, my heart overflowed with affection. “You really need to change it up sometime, Mac.” He smiled, passing me my extra hot, no foam, nonfat latte.

“You know I’m a creature of habit.” I grabbed a cardboard sleeve, slipped it on my cup, and lined it up precisely with the drinking spout before heading back out into the crisp air. I linked my fingers through his and took long gulp of my latte, reveling in the peaceful feeling washing over my body.

“You sure seem happy today. I feel like I have my old girlfriend back now that Saul is off your back.”

“He’s off my back for now, but knowing Saul he’s probably somewhere planning how best to terrorize us in the Monday morning meeting.” I pictured Saul in his office, tapping his fingers together like an evil genius and laughing demonically at his twisted plan.

Jason raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Isn’t the deal dead?”

“Dead?” I shook my head. “Maybe at an impasse, but I haven’t received a pencils down email.”

“You haven’t?” Jason looked puzzled. “I just figured if you were sprung from the office then the deal must be dead.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.” I gave his hand a light squeeze.

We passed the patch of grass behind the Metropolitan Museum, and I smiled at the sight of a father waving a bubble wand, creating huge bubbles to the joy of his two young sons. “More! More!” they exclaimed.

My mind started to wander.
More…. I wonder if there’ll be more diligence that will come in soon … maybe even back in Edmonton. Oh God, what if I have to go back and Sarah comes too?
I tried to push the negative thought out of my mind, but I couldn’t distract myself from the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Rather than embracing the silence, I was actually starting to worry.

“Well, the break couldn’t have come at a better time,” Jason said.

“Hmmm?” I murmured distractedly.

“Our anniversary dinner tonight …” He trailed off with a meaningful edge to his voice.

“Tonight?” I forced myself back to the present.

“I stuck a note on your computer yesterday. Didn’t you see it? I made a reservation at Gramercy Tavern at nine.”

I did a quick recalculation of timing.
If I wake up really early tomorrow and hit the ground running, I could have the due diligence memo to Ben by Monday.

“Sounds perfect.” I pulled him close, locking our fingers and leaning in for a kiss. “I bought something I think you’ll like which will be perfect for the occasion.” I ran my fingers playfully across his chest, thankful for online shopping.

“Mmmm,” he groaned.

Walking into Gramercy Tavern with Jason’s hand on the small of my back, I resolved to put the work stress and recent bickering out of my mind and enjoy an amazing night. I had everything planned—at least in terms of my outfit. I was wearing a super cute red Alice and Olivia sleeveless dress, with matching red, vintage lace bra and panties from La Perla. I was afraid that after spending too much time apart, like we had, we had lost the groove in our relationship, but I was intent on getting it back. Hence the three hundred dollars spent on sexy lingerie. It seemed like Jason had the same desire, because he was completely different than he’d been acting lately—relaxed, attentive, and charming.

“You know who our waiter reminds me of?” He leaned in, whispering slyly.

I snuck a peek at our waiter, now theatrically listing off the specials to the table behind us. “That guy—from that hotel.” I wagged my finger at Jason, attempting to conjure up the name.

“Jacques!” Jason rolled his tongue dramatically and I couldn’t help laughing. Jacques was the concierge at the hotel where we stayed for Jason’s brother’s wedding. His brother had married a Southern belle at a beautiful waterfront home in Texas. I’d been worried about attending an event where Jason’s entire family would be in attendance, but Jason had assured me the wedding would be low key and everyone would love me. Well, my version of low key and the Kermode version of low key are two different things. His family had rented out an entire 160-room boutique hotel for the out-of-town guests, complete with a concierge named Jacques, who acted as if his greatest joy in life was to please the guests of the hotel. “Please accept this brrrreakfast with our compliments,” Jacques had sing-songed, rolling his R’s longer than necessary, wheeling in a room-service table a mere ten minutes after we’d arrived. He’d theatrically announced the contents before whisking the silver domed tops off, and gesturing grandly to the most delicious looking bread basket I’d ever laid eyes on. Confident we were appropriately impressed, he
then gave a mini bow and excused himself. When we were sure he’d closed the door behind him, we’d looked at each other and dissolved into laughter on the bed.

“Yes!” I slapped my thigh with a laugh. “I haven’t thought about Jacques in forever!”

“Jacques would be devastated,” Jason tsked. “I’m sure he’s thought about
you
, Mac,” he deadpanned, his mouth twitching with humor.

“Well, I
have
thought about other parts of that weekend …” I entwined my leg with his under the table, slowly working my foot up to his thigh, remembering the mind-blowing sex we’d had. Nothing adds to pleasure like a bottle of expensive champagne from the welcome basket and 800-thread-count Frette sheets. Jason and I barely made it to the wedding. A sizzle of anticipation suddenly coursed through my body. Tonight was going to be good.

“Nuh-uh.” Jason shook his head emphatically. “Don’t be writing checks you can’t cash.” There was a devilish glint in his eyes, the same one that always sent a tingle right down to my toes.

“I can cash it after dinner.” I smiled coyly, reaching across the table to take hold of his hand. His thumb traced tiny circles on my wrists and our eyes were locked. For a moment we were totally connected, like the past few months hadn’t even happened. A minor blip in an otherwise fantastic relationship.

“This is nice,” Jason said, breaking the silence. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” I murmured, feeling a sense of bliss that was such a departure from my daily routine lately that my body must have sensed something askew. My thoughts suddenly drifted to my BlackBerry sitting in my purse, my pleasurable feelings working like an alarm clock reminding me that I hadn’t checked it the whole evening. For most people, keeping their mobile device in their purse rather than on the table during a romantic dinner would help them relax. For me, it triggered nerve-wracking fear and intense anxiety. I glanced down beside me and flinched when I saw it—the blinking red light illuminating the inside of my purse.

Don’t check it, Mackenzie, just leave it in your purse
, I silently commanded, but my mind started to race.
What if it’s Ben? I can’t afford to miss another one of his ASAP emails.
“Hold that thought.”
I laughed nervously and held up my index finger as I picked up my BlackBerry and clicked on the new message.