Lanie's Lessons (6 page)

“That is so sweet,” Lanie breathed after she’d hung up.

“Yeah,” Beth sighed. She eyed Lanie with a silly grin. “Uh, Lanie? Are you going to use your phone to call Ethan, or hold it to your ear all night? Did you even dial?

Looking at the display, Lanie scoffed at herself; it was still on the main screen. She swiped her thumb and located Ethan’s name.

“He must be worried to have called Steven. Will he be mad, do you think?”

“He knew we were going out.” It rang once before Ethan answered.

“Lanie.” His deep voice, smooth like glass, greeted her. He didn’t sound upset, just relieved. “I was getting concerned when you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry, honey. There’s a lot of noise and I didn’t hear it ring. Forgive me?”

“Baby… I only wanted to check in. How many have you had?”

“Three, no, I’m on my fourth actually. Steven is coming to get us.”

“Good.” He paused. “Are you drunk or tipsy?”

She giggled. “Somewhere in between.”

“Make that the last one. I want you loose when you get home, not sloppy drunk. I haven’t had halfway between tipsy and drunk Lanie in a good long while.”

“Ethan.” She whispered his name getting all tingly and excited inside.

“Yeah, baby. I’m looking forward to it too. See you soon.”

When she disconnected she looked at Beth, who winked and guessed, “Drunk sex tonight?”

“How did you know?”

“Steven. He can hardly wait. So if he doesn’t come to a complete stop in your driveway, be prepared to tuck and roll.”

The two friends burst into gales of silly laughter, drawing more curious looks and some amused smiles from the other patrons. They were still giddy when Steven collected them ten minutes later.

Chapter Five

With her small box of belongings in hand, which were appallingly few after four years in the same office, Lanie punched the elevator button for the third time. As she waited impatiently for the exceptionally slow car, she eyed the door to the stairwell. She considered the idea briefly, but it was quickly discarded. Fourteen floors in heels—uh, maybe not.

She’d be happy to see the last of Wolfe, Williams and Simons—most especially, Simons. Outwardly calm, inside she was a churning mass of emotion. She could taste her rage as it rose in her throat, bitter and raw; it burned on her tongue like acid. How she had contained it, she hadn’t a clue. Her fists had curled tightly, her nails digging painfully into her palms, her thumb wrapped to the outside. Just once, she wanted to let one fist fly into the nasty leering face of Walt Simons. Instead, she’d ground her pointed heel into his hand tooled Italian loafer enjoying his yelp of pain as she flung off his groping hand from her ass.

“Don’t leave angry, sexy Lanie. If you come over here and be real nice to me, I might be able to work out a severance package.”

She had let her eyes dip below his belt meaningfully. “Trust me, Walt, whatever meager package you have to offer would be laughable and frankly not worth my attention.” With that set down leveled, his round face turned beefy red and a vein popped out on his forehead. Not a good look for him. She gave him a cool look of disdain, before she slung her purse over her shoulder, picked up her small cardboard box, ready to leave.

“Frigid bitch. Your husband’s dick must get frostbite when he fucks you.”

Lanie laughed, genuinely amused for the first time that day. “That’s rich. Ethan Fischer is a god compared to you and his dick makes me melt like honey from the comb. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t have to threaten and manipulate women to sleep with him.” Turning on her heel, she strode to the open door, throwing one last remark over her shoulder. “See you in court, Walt,” she accentuated his name with scathing derision. “I’ll be the frigid bitch kicking your ass.”

Feeling slightly purged of a fraction of her anger, she sedately walked out. Seeing two of the legal secretaries huddled by the door, she smirked. Good, that exit line deserved an audience. Moreover, Walt the Pig, deserved to be grist for the office gossip mill for days to come.

A familiar voice calling her name snapped her back to the present. Still waiting for the freaking elevator, which seemed to be stuck on the ninth floor for some reason, she shifted her heavy bag to the other shoulder.

“Lanie, wait a sec.”

Looking up, she saw Beth and Trudy Blakely, the office manager, heading her way.

“Holy shitzu, girl,” Beth exclaimed. “I heard you told Walt Simons where to shove his latest pro bono case. Good for you!”

“Juicy gossip sure travels fast. This time it’s true, although good for me probably means a trip to the unemployment line.” Once again in control, she shrugged, surprised that she wasn’t as upset over quitting her sucky job as she thought she’d be, even without another on the horizon.

“Simons is such a tool!” Beth grumbled. “But I’m proud of you for not taking his shit anymore, Lanie.”

“You’re a legend around here already,” Trudy gushed. “All of us girls have wanted to tell that skid where to stick it for years.” Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly as she added, “We’re all going to miss you, honey.”

“Skid?” Lanie inquired.

“Loser,” Beth translated before slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You can’t leave me here all alone. Who am I going to dish with at lunch?” As if realizing the slight to her other friend, she apologized. “I didn’t mean you, Trudy, you’re always welcome, but this is Lanie.”

“I understand,” Trudy smiled, brushing it off. “No offense taken.”

“You’re a doll, Trudy, but I’ll be lost without my Lanie. Who am I going to ask for legal advice, or complain about the partners to, or whine to when my case is going south?”

“I have a phone, honey,” Lanie blithely reminded her. She loved Beth, but she was a drama queen.

“That’s not the same.”

“Skype? FaceTime? Or we could still meet for lunch. It seems I’ll have plenty of time on my hands.”

“Good idea. I was on my way to get a bite to eat and heard through the grapevine that you told Walt he had a little dick. Is it true?”

“Lordy,” Lanie murmured with a shake of her head, “The office grapevine is faster than text.”

“How do you think I found out?”

Trudy chimed in. “That’s how I knew.”

“Good grief, I’m surprised they didn’t take a video.”

“Too bad, I’d have loved to see it.”

“I can picture it on YouTube with a racy title. ‘Groping Boss Gets Cock Blocked by Honey Comb.’ It would have gone viral.” Trudy giggled as the other two gaped at her. “What? I can talk dirty when the situation warrants.”

“It’s not the words,” Lanie noted, “it’s the detail. They must have been peeking through the blinds. Unbelievable.”

“Forget that. Come to lunch with me, Lanie, and fill me in on all the details. My treat.”

“Since you’re paying and my budget has been shot all to hell”—she grinned sheepishly at her friend—”it’s a date.”

Trudy hugged Lanie’s shoulders. “Sorry I can’t join you, but there’s some separation paperwork and the matter of your benefits, honey. I’ll get it all together and give you a call later so we can go over it.”

The elevator doors at long last slid open and arm in arm, Beth and Lanie squeezed into the crowded car. Waving at a tearful Trudy, they closed and Lanie found herself staring at her distorted reflection in the shiny steel. That’s when the weight of what she’d done sunk in and she leaned against Beth for support. In silence, they waited as the lights signaled their descent and the passage of each of the fourteen floors. Unable to discuss it more with all the people around, they walked quietly to their favorite restaurant around the corner. Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at the Midtown Deli waiting on their food.

“I would have paid money to see you tell off Walt the Pig.”

“I was calm, cool and collected when I told him there were nine other junior associates with the firm who needed practice on his throwaway cases. In every single one of those cases the client was a bottom feeding scumbag or the PD’s office wouldn’t have passed them off. Walt had the nerve to tell me that I was doing so well with them, he was thinking about assigning them all to me—the bastard.”

“What did he do?”

“He laughed. So I went to Mr. Williams, who defended his right to assign cases to junior associates as he saw fit. He was so condescending; he may as well have patted me on the head, given me a lollipop and sent me off to play. The old goat! From there I went to Mr. Wolfe and demanded the PD cases be distributed evenly amongst the junior associates or I’d resign on the spot.”

“And?” Beth asked as she paused.

“Uh, hello?” She reached into the box on the bench beside her and pulled out the nameplate she’d swiped from her door. Holding it up, she gazed pointedly at Beth.

“Yeah, I got that.” She frowned. “What happened there at the end?”

“Ole Walt thought he could get some action in exchange for severance. Ew! As if. The sheer nerve of that asshole astounds me.”

“What will you do now, honey? Does Ethan know? Will he be pissed?”

“I haven’t told him yet. He’s still in class. But he’s been pissed ever since the pig grabbed my ass after the last case. He said it was an accident, that he was aiming for a pat on the back, but that ticked Ethan off more. It was all I could do to keep him from coming to the office and separating Walt’s head from his shoulders. Short of that, he wanted me to file charges or quit. That was three months ago, so it’s still fresh. He is not going to have a problem with my leaving.”

The waitress came with Beth’s Reuben and Lanie’s roast beef club and a refill of their drinks. When she left, Lanie picked up where she’d left off. “What Ethan says I should do is start my own practice. He’s said he’d back me financially. He’d like me to find a partner, though. It’s really not a financial thing, he doesn’t want to be seen in the community as being involved, thinks it would undermine my position by casting a shadow over my success, at least initially.”

“That’s smart. You wouldn’t want to be known as Ethan Fischer’s wife the attorney. So would he be a silent partner?”

“No, he only wants to be an investor. Of course, if I ask, he’ll advise, and I’m counting on his expertise to get up and running, but he won’t interfere at the office or in court, that’s a given.” Lanie took a bite of the huge, crunchy dill pickle the deli was known for. “
Oh pissah
, I’m going to miss this place—especially these pickles.”

Beth giggled.

“I didn’t use that right, did I?”

“Close, but it’s more like a cuss than a sigh. If you’d a said ‘Oh pissah! Some idiot put mustid on my three way, then you’d be a true Baystater.”

Not a native of Boston like Beth, after living ten years in the city, Lanie still had a hard time with the lingo. “Remind me what a three way is again, avoiding the obvious, of course.”

“Roast beef with cheese, sauce, and mayo. Or just ask for an all around. Same difference.”

Meeting Beth was the best thing about working at WW&S. Lanie reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m going to miss you too, honey.”

Returning the gesture, with a sheen of tears misting her eyes, she burst out, “How much of a buy-in?”

“What?”

“The partnership.” It came out “pahtnahship,” but Lanie was too stunned to tease her about it.

“Five hundred thousand. Why? Are you thinking of leaving? Oh, Beth, that would be wonderful. I was hoping to find another woman. Wouldn’t that be wicked cool? A women’s law firm, for women, by women. It’s a big investment though. I thought Ethan’s number was somewhat high. We can scale back if it’s a problem.”

“Honey, Steven’s loaded. I just need to ask him.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. He’s published. Written about a dozen self-help books and co-authored two psychology textbooks. And his parents came from money.”

“Really. I had no idea.”

“He doesn’t make a big deal of it, which I love. So tell me the plan.”

“Ethan said to start with a bang. Impressive offices with a legal secretary, advertising, memberships, branding… He’s had it all plotted out for months in case I decided to pull the plug on WW&S.”

She stopped gushing when she noticed Beth’s smile.

“What?”

“Wicked cool? You’re learning.”

Lanie shook her head as they both laughed.

“Let me talk to Steven and call you tonight.”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. I’ve been thinking of leaving ever since pervy Walt cornered me in the law library and brushed up against my boobs,” as she spoke she raised her hands and made air quotes, “by accident. What a pig!”

“He came by his name honestly, it seems. He is so disgusting. Did you tell Steven?”

She squirmed in her seat. “I told him eventually and he paddled my ass for keeping it from him. He also demanded I file harassment charges against him, which I’ve yet to do. So, if he’s good with the investment, Anderson v Simons can be our first case.”

Beth flashed her million-dollar grin at Lanie, who responded in turn. “Fischer & Anderson, Attorneys at Law. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, honey?”

“You don’t want to do alphabetical and make it Anderson & Fischer?” Lanie suggested equitably.

“No, it was your idea. Besides, we might get callers who think the Fischer is Ethan. That’s fine by me. He’s practically a celebrity in the legal community. If we can ride his coat tails to get started, I say we go for it. Don’t you?”

“Hell yes, but don’t mention it to him. He insists my success be on my own merit, but I plan to use and abuse him as much as I can. He can complain all the way to the bank. Oh, Beth, I can’t stand the wait. When can you call Steven and discuss the financials?”

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. “He should be out of class for lunch. How about now?” She dialed. As she filled in her husband, Lanie tried not to listen, but she couldn’t help it. After a brief ten-minute conversation, the partners of Boston’s newest law firm drank to their future success. It was a go.

Chapter Six