“Who are you here to see?” the girl asks with a smile.
“John Remington,” I announce and her smile gets bigger.
“You must be Alana.”
“Yes, I am,” I smile back tightly.
“Right this way,” she walks out from behind the desk and escorts me through the huge double glass doors. As we walk through the main hallway of the law firm I catch glimpses of different things through the glass walls, lawyers in meetings, on the phone or engrossed in their computer screen.
“I’m Reyna,” she says as we walk.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply. “How long have you worked here?”
“Just a few months,” she says cheerfully. “I just moved here from Texas, I got lucky and landed this job right away.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from Texas.”
“No, I’m not. I’m from California originally. Sierra Nevada area, I move around a lot.”
“What brought you to New York?”
“Jay-Z,” she laughs.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s true,” she laughs harder. “No one believes me when I tell them that. I heard Empire State of Mind and I just had to come experience the city for myself.”
“Does it live up to the hype?”
She nods her head enthusiastically.
I think Reyna and I are going to get along just fine.
Reyna leads me into a little room with no windows, a desk and a chair. She hands me a clipboard with a stack of papers on it and a pen. “Fill this out and I’ll let Mr. Remington now you’re here.”
“Okay, thank you.” I sit down at the desk.
“Alana, I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”
I smile at her thankfully, and then she shuts the door.
A little while later, after I’ve finished the paperwork, Reyna comes back to tell me my uncle is ready to see me.
I follow her out of the room and down the long hallway that seems to be the main hub of the firm. We walk through two more double doors where several huge offices are situated. This is definitely where the big guns work. She motions to an entrance on the right and I see my uncle through the glass, he’s sitting at a huge cherry wood desk with a view of Manhattan behind him that punches you right in the face. I walk in and when he looks up, a wide smile lights up his face.
“Alana.” He stands and comes around the desk to hug me, “I’m so excited you’re here.”
“Me too,” I say nervously. I don’t know why. This is my uncle, I shouldn’t be nervous, but the grandeur of his firm feels like it’s crushing me.
“Reyna showed you around?”
“Yes, a little, she’s very nice.”
“She is,” he agrees as he walks back behind his desk, and I can’t help but follow him. I want to get closer to the window and take in the magnificent view. I lean against his desk with my arms crossed and get lost in the landscape.
“Phenomenal, isn’t it?” My uncle swivels in his chair next to me, mirroring my arms.
“Totally,” I say transfixed.
We’re quiet for a moment before he says, “So, Ryan. He’s an interesting boy.”
I immediately snap to attention. “Yes he is,” I answer, and I’m scared he’s going to tell me to stop seeing him.
I search my uncle’s face for any kind of hint of what he’s thinking. I’ll give it to the Remington men; they can conceal their emotions like none other.
“I don’t think he’s slept since you asked him to present the logo ideas.”
“Driven, that’s good.”
“He wants to impress you,” I smirk. “Hell, I want to impress you.”
My uncle looks up at me surprised. “Alana, you do impress me. You’re a strong, intelligent young woman who is at the top of her class at a prestigious law school.”
“There are plenty of young, intelligent women who are at the top of their class at prestigious law schools,” I counter diffidently.
“So what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, except competition.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Okay then, you know what really impresses me?”
“What?” I draw my brown eyes down to his.
“You stand by a man whose occupation has women throwing themselves at him on a nightly basis. I don’t know how many young girls who would be able to do that. I don’t know how many grown women who would be able to do that,” he grunts.
“Trust me, it’s not easy,” I scoff.
“I’m sure it’s not. And that’s exactly my point. You endure. You do it with your father and with your boyfriend. And that ability will give you the edge you need in the competition department,” he says, nodding self-assured. “It’s not going to hurt that you have my law firm on your resume either,” he winks.
I grin down at him. My uncle, the voice of encouragement.
“Now, if you’re ready,” he joshes, turning back to his desk, “there’s work to be done.”
My smile broadens. I’m totally ready.
“Did you buy a new wardrobe?” I look down at a bed that’s covered with clothes with the tags still on them.
Ryan comes out of the bathroom towel-drying his hair, “I couldn’t decide what to wear so I bought a selection.”
“You bought Michael Kors’ spring line.”
He laughs lightly then goes back into the bathroom. “Pick something out for me,” he yells, the scent of his body spray drifting into the room. It’s yummy.
I sift through the clothes; Ryan is meeting with my uncle and the other partners today to look over his mock ups. If they like anything they see, Ryan will have the task of creating the law firm’s official logo. It’s not only a huge undertaking, it’s a big break in his potential career.
I pick out a navy suit and match it with a light blue pin-striped tie that I think will bring out his eyes, along with a white dress shirt.
He walks back out of the bathroom, glances down at my selection and smiles, “I was leaning towards that suit.”
As we finish getting dressed, I can feel the anxiety radiating off him. I can’t say I blame him for being nervous; he’s about to meet four gods on Mount Olympus.
We hop a cab to the Chrysler Building, and grab some coffee from a vendor truck parked out front on the street. We take the elevator up and just as we step out into the reception area we run into my uncle. He’s walking purposefully with papers in his hand. His white shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows and a gold chain hangs from the pocket of his black vest. He smiles when he sees us.
“Well, don’t you two look like a power couple?” he jibes, shaking hands with Ryan. “All ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Have a seat and one of the receptionists will see you inside.” My uncle disappears through the double doors of the firm. Ryan exhales an uneasy breath and takes a seat on one of the leather chairs in the waiting room.
“Do you want me to stay with you until you’re called in?” I ask, trying to be supportive.
Ryan smiles, a huge dazzling smile, “No, that’s okay. I need to do this thing on my own.”
I nod, and lean down to kiss him. “Good luck,” I whisper by his mouth, then leave to do my own work. As I pass by the reception desk, Reyna pssts me.
“Hey,” she says as she follows me through the doors. “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks conspiratorially.
“Um, yes. That’s Ryan.”
“His name’s not Jack?”
All the air leaves my body, but I try to stay composed. “Why would you ask that?”
“Shelia is swearing up and down he’s the guy who strips at Culture. She was just there last weekend.”
I chew on my bottom lip. Jesus, does every woman under the age of twenty-five know who Ryan is? “No, maybe he just looks like him?” I try to conceal Superman’s secret identity. “He’s definitely hot enough to be a male stripper though,” I quip, and then walk off.
“Hell y
eah he is,” I hear Reyna mutter under her breath, and it makes me smile a little.
Forty-five minutes later I steal a peek of Ryan and the founding partners in a conference room. He has his laptop open with one of his mock ups projecting on a big screen. It’s the one I noticed the other day, the circle of names. My uncle looks pleased, as do the others in the room. Ryan looks surprisingly calm, and you can see the passion on his face as he speaks. I secretly wish he gets the job. It would be a great confidence booster for him.
I hurry into my uncle’s office, not wanting anyone to catch me spying, and place a stack of papers on his desk. I photocopied at least a hundred briefs this morning, and have just finished delivering them to all the designated lawyers. I look up when Ryan and my uncle walk through the door; they’re both smiling and seem comfortable in each other’s presence. And, for one split second, I wish it was my father instead of my uncle looking at Ryan that way.
“So, who’s ready for a celebratory lunch?” my uncle asks in his deep voice. I glance between both of them, stunned. “You got the job?”
Ryan rubs the back of his neck, “Guess so.”
I don’t know what to do next. I want to run up and fling my arms around him, but how would that look in an office environment?
Fuck it; I do it anyway, giving him the biggest hug I can muster, because I know this job could potentially change his life.
And potentially get rid of Jack the Stripper.
“Mr. Remington,” a woman’s voice comes in over the speaker on his desk. “There’s been a development in the Richmond case, they’re requesting you in conference room three.”
My uncle sighs. “No rest for the weary,” he says. “Looks like you two are celebrating on your own.” He walks over to the filing cabinet under the window and picks out a blue envelope. “Have a good time,” he says amiably and then rushes out the door.
“So what do you want to do to celebrate?” I ask, grabbing Ryan’s hand.
Ryan gets a wicked look on his face and glances at my uncle’s huge cherry wood desk. “I can think of one thing.”
I walked right into that one.
“Not going to happen.”
“How bout a quickie at my place then?” he pulls me into his arms and I brace my hands on his chest.
“You’re not hungry?” I ask.
“Oh, I’m hungry,” he says, kissing my neck. “But you’re the only one who has the flavor I want.”
Naughty.
“So let’s go then,” I pull him toward the door by his tie, “and I’ll let you taste the rainbow.”
“Jesus Christ, I love you,” Ryan feigns fainting, “It’s a good thing I’m wearing a suit jacket.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and I can feel his hard on poking me in the back.
“Really, is that all it takes?” I giggle. “A dirty innuendo?”
“Alana, all it takes is for you to breathe.”
I laugh aloud, “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know baby,” he groans, “don’t ever ask me to change.”
“I wouldn’t, and I don’t think you could even if you tried.”
We walk out into the vestibule holding hands; several receptionists are behind the desk, including Reyna and Shelia. Shelia has short black hair, a pear-shaped body and a devious demeanor. They watch us like hawks as we walk by and just as we get into the elevator someone yells, “Jack!” and Ryan turns his head.
Shit.
I circle around to see both Reyna and Shelia’s eyes sparkling; those two connivers just unmasked Jack the Stripper.
Easter is late this year.
The daffodils have popped up, the azaleas are in bloom and there is just the tiniest hint of warmth in the air. I’m sitting at the table in my aunt and uncle’s Art Deco dining room feasting on rack of lamb with pureed sweet potatoes and beet salad. It’s my aunt’s signature meal for the holiday. The conversation is light and everyone seems to be enjoying their meal.
“Alana, did I tell you Alex and I will be in the city next month? He’s taking me to see Thirty Seconds to Mars.” Emily wipes her mouth with an excited glint in her eye. She loves Jared Leto so this news is no surprise. She’s a self-proclaimed Echelon.
“Oh yeah? Where are they playing?”
“Roseland Ballroom, nice and intimate,” she smiles wickedly, “It should be a good concert.”
“Sounds like a good one. I’m jealous.” I take a sip of red wine. I’m a bit of a Jared Leto fan myself.
“I can get you and Ryan tickets if you want to come,” Alex chimes in innocently and I immediately cease breathing.
“Ryan?” My father’s low timber vibrates across the table.
Its official, the universe hates me. First Emily outs me and now Alex. I swear these two are a match made in big mouth heaven.
I stare at my father stock-still trying to figure out a way to answer his one word, probing question. I deliberate carefully. One wrong slip of the tongue and life as I know it could be over.
“Yes. Ryan.” I look around the table and everyone is frozen. My uncle with a forkful of beets to his mouth, my aunt with her wine glass touching her lips, Emily glaring at Alex like she wants to stab her knife into his neck. “He’s someone I’m seeing.”
My father drops his fork. “Why do Emily and Alex know you’re seeing someone and I don’t?”
The question actually throws me for a loop. He sounds almost hurt. Which is not in my father’s character description at all.
“Because I wasn’t ready to tell you.” And that’s the honest truth.
“Well, who is he? Where is he from? What does he do?” My father pops off every question I don’t want to answer.
“Merrick don’t interrogate the girl. She’s twenty-three years old, she’s entitled to her privacy.” My uncle John goes to bat for me.
“I don’t recall directing a question at you John,” my father snaps. Ouch.
Oh fuck, I glance quickly between my uncle and my father. This could get ugly if I’m not systematic with my answers. Just breathe.
“Daddy,” I say sweetly, calmly, trying to placate him even though I’m a jumble of overheating organs on the verge of stalling out. “Ryan and I are only casually dating. Law school is my first priority. Getting families involved is just too big of a step for me right now. I don’t want to get distracted.”
My father grimaces. “Telling me about your boyfriend and introducing him to me are two entirely different things,” he says; always the lawyer.
“Maybe so, but I wasn’t ready for either.” I stand firm.
His brown gaze bores into me. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but reading him is like trying to interpret hieroglyphics. I just sit there as the moments tick by, my heartbeat slow and labored. Like I’m steadily dying.
“Fine then.” He relents and I nearly pass out. “I can respect the fact you want to put school first and not get distracted. That’s a very mature attitude.” He looks down and I don’t understand his reaction. It’s impassive like usual, but it’s almost like there’s something more. Something that he’s trying to hide. It’s unnerving. It’s not like him at all. And it actually frightens me. I glance at my uncle but he just shrugs.
I want to ask if he’s all right, but even if he isn’t I don’t think he’d admit it. Especially not to me.
Lesson learned from today’s meal? A secret isn’t a secret unless you keep it to yourself.
“You deserve a freakin’ Academy Award.” Emily leans on the counter next to where I’m drying the china and swigging merlot right out of the bottle.
“That was to close.” I place a dried dish unsteadily on the stack. The Bone china has been in my family for three generations. It’s a creamy white with a textured surface and a platinum ring running all around the rim.
“I know, but you didn’t bat an eyelash or even break a sweat when he started asking about Ryan.”
I laugh manically. “When you’re the daughter of a judge and the niece of an esteemed lawye
r you learn a few things about composure.”
“Yeah, well, if you handle yourself in a courtroom the way you handled yourself in the dining room I see a bright future for you.”
“Let’s hope so.” I take another gulp of wine.
“Alana?” Emily looks down and it seems like she has something important on her mind. “Let’s just say for shits and giggles you did introduce Ryan to your father, it’s not like you have to tell him what he does. You can say he’s a graphic artist. It wouldn’t be lying.”
I stop drying the dishes and huff. “Emily, Ryan’s occupation is the least of my problems with my father. He convicted him. He’ll never see past that.”
“It’s been almost six years, do you really think he’ll remember?”
“Maybe not at first, but eventually, yes. And then the shit will hit the fan.”
Emily gives me a sympathetic look. She doesn’t like it anymore than me that I have to hide Ryan like he’s someone to be ashamed of. But it isn’t that at all. “Em, look. Putting all my wants and needs aside, I can’t subject Ryan to my father’s ridicule. You have no idea what the last few years have been like for him. He has so much more healing to do and we’ve only been back together less than a year. We need to work on us first before we go adding our families into the sticky mix.”
It makes me want to rip my heart out every time I think of my loving, affectionate, free-spirited Ryan and all the deep, dark, demons he still has inside. There’s no way I’m going to let my father’s elitist attitude provoke the already fragile side of him.
“Hey.” Alex interrupts us.
“Hey.” Emily and I turn around.
“I’m so sorry about before. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s okay Alex.” I cross my arms and lean on the counter. I think the wine is going to my head. FINALLY! “Maybe it’s for the best. Now Ryan doesn’t have to be some monumental secret, only a really huge one.”
I glance at my watch 7:02 PM. My train leaves in forty-five minutes. “Can you give me a ride to the train station?” I ask. “It’s getting late and I really want to get home.” I throw the dishtowel onto the counter feeling more than a little bit tipsy.
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