Hula Girl

by Ward Cosio, Lara

  My hands are full of the snacks I’d helped myself to for brunch. His hands are full of papers he clearly shouldn’t have helped himself to.

  “Oh, hi, Ava,” he says.

  I arch a brow. “Seriously?”

  “Don’t let your suspicious nature run wild,” he says with a breezy smile. “I was just retrieving some papers of mine.”

  “Papers that were stored in Randall’s private cabinet?”

  He takes a long moment to ignore me while he straightens the papers into a neat stack. Then he folds them in half and sticks them under his arm before kicking closed the cabinet door and heading toward me.

  He stops when he’s just inches away. It’s uncomfortably close, but I don’t let him intimidate me. I stand my ground.

  “I’ll be on my way now, and I’ll expect you to say no more of our little … meeting.”

  I scoff. “That’s what you’ll expect?”

  He had started to walk past, but now, he rears on his heel and stares daggers at me. “You would do well to remember your place, Ms. Ruiz,” he says. “An employee in your position should not question a partner as often as you do. Anyone else would see this as insubordination. It’s only because of Randall that I’m willing to let this go.”

  “I am only ever looking out for Randall’s best interests,” I say. It’s the truth. When I go at Manny, I know that I’m teetering on the line of professionalism. Well, okay, I’m falling right over it. But it’s only because I have a fierce sense of wanting to protect Randall. Even if that ends up being to my detriment.

  Manny studies me for a long moment. I lift my chin, waiting for him to tell me once more that I’m talking out of turn.

  But he doesn’t admonish me. What he says instead takes things in a direction I hadn’t anticipated.

  “Listen, I know you revere Randall.” He pauses, hesitating for a moment. “I want to be candid with you because of that. But in doing so, I need you to keep this in strict confidence.”

  “Of course,” I say, snapping into professional mode.

  “This may not even be news to you, I suppose. I’m sure you’ve noticed how he’s diminished in the last few months, right?” He doesn’t let me respond, which is probably good, because I would have rejected this and revealed my denial over the matter, which is not a good look for a lawyer who should be able to assess the facts of any given situation. “He’s been on a downward trajectory,” he continues. “I don’t like to see it. But it’s true. And if you want to help him, if you want to look out for his best interests, you’ll convince him to step down and let others carry this firm on in good stead.”

  I can’t see past the logic in this, not when my instinct is to protect Randall. “Others? You mean you. You’ve been gunning for power since before I started here.”

  “Be that as it may,” he says, exasperated, “this isn’t how I wanted it to end. Open your eyes and look at Randall’s recent history. He’s not himself.”

  I still don’t want to accept what he’s saying. I’d rather deny it, or laugh it off, or accuse him of the lowest kind of subterfuge. I open my mouth, but Manny cuts me off.

  “And don’t be naive about how others will use this against him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is exactly what your ex Bryce was doing when he tried to speak directly with your client. You know, when you were off in Maui getting insta-engaged?”

  I’m completely thrown and only manage to stutter out, “Wh-what?”

  He sighs with impatience. “He was trying to get our client to admit that Randall wasn’t competent to represent the case in your absence. He’s the one going after Randall. I’m trying to protect him.”

  “But, I still don’t understand. Randall may be a little forgetful, but he’s still capable.”

  “He’s been coming in to the office less. He’s less involved in cases. He only took on your case because he saw fit to spend firm money on an all-inclusive vacation for you. That alone, is evidence—”

  “Manny, please.” Everything he’s said is true. So, too, is the fact that Randall has been withdrawn. More often than not, when I’ve seen him in the past few months it’s when I’ve caught him staring off into space. Engaging him in conversation had been difficult, but I’d attributed that to him having things on his mind. I hadn’t inquired after him when he stopped coming into the office on Saturdays or started coming in later and leaving earlier during the week. I’d built him up as not just a brilliant legal mind, but an indestructible surrogate grandfather all these years.

  The truth is, what I can only see now is that I didn’t want to absorb all the changes. I didn’t want to acknowledge any kind of decline. It was too painful. And now that I realize what I had willfully denied, I feel incredibly guilty. I should have been helping him, not ignoring the signs I was too afraid to accept.

  Manny meets my eyes. Neither of us looks away for a long moment. Finally, his shoulders sag.

  “I take no pleasure in this, Ava,” he says. “I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true. Yes, I have believed I have the better instincts for running this firm for quite a long while, but that doesn’t mean I ever lost respect for Randall. I only want to see him off in a way that pays tribute to everything he’s accomplished. I would be grateful if you could help me do that.”

  “Me?” I ask with a startled laugh. I have to blink back the tears that have once more filled my eyes. My emotions have been doing overtime today, starting with Ford and now with Randall.

  “Yes. He adores you. You are one of his greatest achievements, to be honest.”

  “Wait,” I say. “You’re giving me a compliment?”

  He hesitates before giving in and laughing. “Ava. I can admit that Randall made the right decision in hiring you.”

  I take in a shaky breath. “Thank you, Manny.”

  “You’ll do what you can?”

  “I, uh, yes. I will.”

  He purses his lips together before giving me a nod. And then he walks out, and I’m alone in Randall’s office. My hands are still full. But I stay in the same spot, taking in everything anew. Randall’s big desk is the perfect reflection of the man I always thought him to be: sturdy, high-quality, comforting. But looking closer, I can see that the corners are scuffed from years of use. The wood is worn where Randall leaned his forearms on it as he engaged in heated debates with other lawyers in the firm, including me. If it’s to keep being a useful piece, it will need a little more TLC than it’s seen in recent times.

  So will Randall. He deserves to have the time and freedom to enjoy a true retirement. Resolved that this will be my mission going forward, I nod to myself and then head back to my office.

  30

  Ford

  In one of my last acts of deference to my father, I’ve dressed up for his dinner party, wearing a slim fit navy-blue Hugo Boss suit paired with a starched white shirt, no tie. I’m standing on the second-floor balcony of his Pacific Palisades home, taking in the last sherbet hues of the sunset over the ocean in the distance. But I’m also keeping an eye on the arrivals in the circular drive below where a valet service has been set up.

  The cocktail hour started fifteen minutes ago, and most guests had arrived on time. But Ava and her mother are not yet here. I’m contemplating calling her when I spot her white Acura RDX pulling into the drive.

  I turn away and step back into the great room being used for cocktails, intending to rush downstairs to greet them. There are bistro tables scattered around a full two-sided bar in the center of the space. Senior has invited fifty people to this dinner, and it doesn’t appear that anyone has declined. The chatter is loud, overpowering the cellist and violinist in the corner who were meant to provide elegant background music. Dinner will be served downstairs in the garden. It’s been set up by the catering company with long tables, and Italian bulbs have been strung overhead, making this look more like a wedding reception than a simple dinner party. I might be suspicious of this decor, fearful tha
t Senior wants to push this into something more than a spontaneous engagement party, but I know that his girlfriend du jour has a flare for event planning. She was probably tickled to help organize this soirée.

  “Ah, there you are.”

  I turn to see Randall Miller and a woman I assume is his wife ambling toward me. I stop and shake his hand, though I wish I had waited for Ava and her mother at the valet rather than risk getting caught up like this. With no other choice now, I wait for an introduction.

  “Yes, this is …” he says, hesitating. “This is … my wife.”

  “Alice,” she says, offering her hand.

  She’s small in stature with a tidy gray bob and a ready smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say. “Ava thinks the world of you both.”

  “Oh, we just love her right back,” Alice says. “But it was a surprise to hear about this engagement, I have to say.”

  “Surprised us, too,” I say with a grin I hope is charming.

  “Made me wonder if I had forgotten something along the way, there,” Randall says. His eyes go wild for a moment, as if he’s struggling with something only he can discern.

  “Of course, you hadn’t,” Ava says, joining us with her mother by her side.

  She looks radiant in a baby-blue off-the-shoulder dress that has large-print flowers on it and conforms to her delicious curves. Her hair is down but pulled back above one ear with a clip that glitters with Swarovski Crystals. Her lips are tinted dark red, making me think they must be the same color of the apple that tempted Adam once upon a time.

  “Hi, babe,” she says breezily, before kissing me quickly.

  The touch of her lips on mine is too brief, but leaves a lasting sensation. I force myself to greet Rafaela. She’s well turned out in a crimson dress and sensible heels. It seems she’s met Randall and Alice before as they all greet each other familiarly.

  We chat genially for a few minutes, standing in a little circle together. I take the opportunity to put my arm around Ava’s waist, and when she leans into me in response, I wonder if it’s genuine or for show. She has been very good at playing the part, complete with dropping “babe” into the mix.

  “What a lovely night,” Manny says, as he joins us.

  I tense at the sight of him, my last interaction when he not only demeaned me, but suggested Ava was flighty, still at the forefront of my mind.

  “Hi, Manfred,” I say. “I was just going to show Ava and Rafaela the grounds. You’ll excuse us?”

  He smirks but doesn’t reply, instead turning his attention to Randall.

  Ava touches Randall on the shoulder and makes eye contact with him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Sure, take your time,” he replies. His eyes express his affection for her the same way I had noticed they did before at the American Bar Association event.

  I offer both women an arm, and they take me up on the offer to escort them out to the garden. “You both look beautiful tonight,” I say. “I am the envy of all the men here, that’s for sure.”

  Rafaela laughs. “Such a charmer!”

  I raise my eyebrows. “I do hope so.”

  Ava leans into me again, and this time I know it’s genuine. This time, it’s not pretending, but rather, it’s her letting down her guard and it warms me from the inside out.

  The garden is large with a manicured lawn, bushes, fruit trees, and fragrant flowers. And then there is the stunning ocean views. My father bought this place after I had gone away to college. He never had any other children, and he’s never been married. It’s a genuine shame to have such a large home and no one but a rotating series of girlfriends to share it with. But it’s the life he’s chosen.

  “Girl, you are looking fabulous!” Tyler says as he meets us at the fountain in the center of the garden. He’s directed this comment not to Ava, but to Rafaela, and she laughs with delight.

  It’s nice to see that Ava has acquainted her mother with the people whom she’s closest with, even if they are all work friends. Ava had insisted that my father extend an invitation to Tyler, saying he would be a good companion for her mother when we were busy making the rounds with guests.

  “You’re such a flirt, Tyler,” Rafaela says.

  “Only for you,” he replies and takes her arm. “Come with me. You’ll love the raw bar. It’s set up inside a custom ice carving in the shape of an enormous oyster!”

  “Oh my,” she says, and waves as he leads her away.

  “Alone at last,” I say, and Ava smiles. “You do look exceptionally beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you.” She smooths down the lapel of my suit coat. “You look very handsome.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?”

  She laughs. “Of course.”

  “I think there’s a reason why we’ve been so good at playing the part of a couple.”

  “And what would that be?”

  I pull her to me, my arm around her waist. “There’s just something about us together. It can’t be faked. And we shouldn’t just let it go.”

  She stares into my eyes for a moment before breaking the connection and putting her hand on my chest to push away.

  “But we have no other option,” she says. “You know that.”

  “I—”

  “At the end of tonight, you’ll walk me out and I’ll give you back this gorgeous but ridiculously expensive ring.”

  “No, you have to keep it.”

  “I don’t, and I can’t.”

  “Ava, at least to keep up the pretense for a while. That’s what we said we’d do, right? To make this seem real? A ‘long engagement’ and then subtly let people know it didn’t work out. You need the ring for that.”

  “But, how will I get it back to you then?”

  “Come visit me,” I tell her.

  She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Ava, promise me you’ll visit. Promise me one visit.”

  The struggle for how to reply maps itself across her face. Finally, she shakes her head a little in capitulation. “Sure, if I can get away for a few days, I will.”

  Not the most enthusiastic response, but I’ll take what I can get. “Okay, I understand.”

  “It’s just,” she starts and leans in closer to me, “I think I’m going to be needed at the firm. I learned something today that means I’ll have to put in even more hours than usual.”

  “Is it Manny? Did he—”

  “No, it’s not him. He and I are actually on good terms right now.”

  I squint at her, trying to sort out what she isn’t telling me. But she doesn’t offer anything more. And before I can push her, the catering staff has begun walking through the crowd, chiming little bells to signal that it’s time to sit down for dinner.

  “I’m going to go find my mom,” she says before slipping away, and leaving me both curious and concerned about what will be taking up her time at the firm.

  Perhaps it’s a good thing. Perhaps she’ll be getting a promotion, or the opportunity to take the lead on a big case. That would indeed be a good thing for her. She’d love the recognition and challenge. But it’d stack the odds against me having her in my life, and that is the last thing I want.

  31

  Ava

  At dinner, I’m glad that Randall is seated to my right as it gives me the chance to subtly test the bombshell Manny dropped on me earlier. Ford is across from me with my mom next to him. There are low candles and a mixture of tiny vases holding one or two colorful flowers each and small potted succulents lining the center of the table. Those combined with the overhead string lights give the still warm evening a charming feel. Rather than bask in the lovely event, I repeatedly try to connect with Randall.

  “Randall, I was in the office today,” I tell him, “catching up on the Flores case.”

  He nods, but I see no recognition in his eyes.

  “Hey, now that I’m back from vacation and all caught up, let’s start up our lunches again.�
�

  “Oh, sure,” he says.

  “You missed the last few before I went away,” I remind him. We’ve had a standing bi-monthly lunch date to catch up on both personal and work issues for years. But he hadn’t shown up for the last two we had, claiming after the fact to have been caught up in work. It’s only after my talk with Manny that I’ve taken this into account as another sign that he’s slipping.

  “I’ll have your secretary do a better job of reminding you,” I say.

  He nods but it doesn’t seem like he’s absorbed this conversation. And then he surprises me with what he says next.

  “Ava, is this boy, is Ford’s boy really the one for you?” he asks.

  I’m torn. I don’t want to lie to him. He deserves nothing but my honesty. But his voice and his eyes are so hopeful that I feel like I have no choice but to keep up the ruse.

  “Yes, he really is,” I say.

  He smiles. “It’s important that all my girls are happy, you know?”

  “Oh, uh, that’s so sweet.” I realize this isn’t him being mentally unclear, but rather his way of saying how much I mean to him, that he considers me part of his family.

  “He seems like a good boy,” he continues. “They say he’s whip-smart. And anyway, the thing that matters most is the way he looks at you.”

  He nods across the table and I follow his gaze. Ford had been watching us and he doesn’t look away now. We lock eyes, and he gives me a wink.

  There’s a tapping of metal on glass and all conversations slowly hush.

  Ford’s father is standing at the head of the table, patiently waiting for everyone’s attention to be focused on him.

  “I want to thank you all for being here,” he starts. “And big thanks to Paige for putting together such a lovely evening.”

  Paige must be Senior’s girlfriend. She half stands to acknowledge the polite applause from the crowd. She’s about my age with long blonde hair, a thin frame, and large breasts—the definition of an LA social climber, in other words.