Romantically Challenged

by Beth Orsoff

“If you don’t come tonight he’s going to be really angry.”

  “So he’s mad at me. He’ll get over it. He’s not going to fire me just because I didn’t show up to his stupid Christmas party.”

  “No, but do you really want to piss him off a week before the partnership meeting?”

  “Who cares? I’m not up for partner this year. I’m only a sixth-year. He’ll never even consider me until next year at the earliest. By then he’ll have forgotten.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Besides, Greg’s only a sixth-year and he’s up for partnership this year.”

  “I’m not a golden boy.” And I don’t kiss Rosenthal’s ass.

  “As long as it’s still a possibility, don’t completely blow your chances by skipping the party.”

  I knew I’d end up going, but I wasn’t ready to concede quite yet. I told Simone I’d go with her to happy hour and then decide.

  * * *

  After two cranberry martinis with Simone and Greg at O’Grady’s, I agreed to go to Rosenthal’s party. I was only slightly disappointed when we pulled up to the house and I saw that the catering van in the driveway wasn’t Joe’s. I hadn’t heard from him all week. Not that I was expecting to. It’s not like we were dating or anything. I just thought maybe he would’ve called to explain away his date on Saturday night. But he hadn’t.

  Greg grabbed a beer, and Simone and I each poured ourselves a glass of cheap white wine. The three of us headed into the living room, then split up. The plan was that each of us would mingle separately, then reconvene in an hour for a quick getaway.

  Rosenthal’s e-mail had worked. Not one person mentioned my TV appearance. It wasn’t that I wanted anyone to say anything. I didn’t. I just couldn’t believe that no one would.

  At eight o’clock, Rosenthal dimmed the lights and asked us all to take seats in the den for his annual screening of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. This was Rosenthal’s favorite Christmas special, and each year he demanded that we all watch it together “as a family.”

  I took a seat in the corner of the room and saved two more for Simone and Greg, but they never showed. I couldn’t believe those two had ditched me, especially after they’d talked me into coming. The only thing worse than listening to Rosenthal’s annual holiday party speech was listening to it alone.

  Rosenthal stood in front of his blank television screen until we all quieted down, then said, “I just want to say a few words before we get started. First, I want to thank all of you for your hard work this year. But I also want to remind you that collections are down. So I’m asking all of you whose clients have outstanding bills to call them and ask them to please pay up before Christmas. Otherwise, bonuses will reflect the amount we actually collected, instead of the amount we billed.”

  There was an audible groan in the room. This speech was another annual event. Rosenthal gave it every year no matter how well the firm had done or how hard we’d all worked.

  “But tonight is for celebration,” he continued. “Before we start Rudolph, I have a surprise for everyone. As most of you may already know, we have a celebrity in our midst. Julia, will you come up here.”

  “Me?” I mouthed.

  “Yes, you,” Rosenthal said. “You’re the only Julia in the room.”

  Everyone laughed and I stood up. As I passed Rosenthal’s assistant, Diane, on my way to the front of the room, I could see her shaking her head at him. That couldn’t be good.

  Rosenthal put his arm around my shoulder and hugged me to him. “I always knew you had potential,” he said and gave me another squeeze. I could smell the scotch on his breath.

  Rosenthal shut the lights and pushed PLAY on the remote. It was my face on his sixty-two-inch television screen. The zit on my chin that I hadn’t quite covered up with makeup was now two inches wide. I watched myself try to ignore Molly Truitt and then have my words twisted and used against me. When the camera cut back to the Hollywood Tonight anchors, Rosenthal paused the recording, turned on the lights, and led the room in an enthusiastic round of applause. I wanted to run, but I stood next to him and vainly attempted to smile.

  “We’re glad to have you at Rosenthal & Leventhal, Julia, even if you are romantically challenged. But next time, will you please mention the name of the firm? I want us all to get some business out of this, not just you.”

  Everyone laughed again. Even me. It was either that or cry. I returned to my seat while Rosenthal switched DVDs. I waited until Rudolph and the elf who wanted to be a dentist left Christmas Town, before I escaped to the bathroom.

  I let myself wallow in self-pity for a full thirty seconds, then I wiped my eyes, fixed my make-up, and tried to look on the bright side. It could’ve been worse. A lot worse. Rosenthal actually did me a favor. This way I got all of my humiliation over with in one shot instead of having to have individual conversations with each of my coworkers. Even the timing was perfect. Surely someone would do something tonight that would trump me on the rumor mill Monday morning. Then that would become the story of the week and all this would be forgotten.

  I left the bathroom and went upstairs to find my coat. Mrs. Rosenthal told me she had put them all in the guest bedroom. “Third door on the left at the top of the stairs,” she’d said with a slight slur. Either I’d misunderstood her or she’d miscounted. When I opened the third door on the left I didn’t find any coats, but I did find Greg lying on top of Simone in a four-poster bed.

  Chapter 64

  A New Day

  Greg and Simone were both still fully clothed, but he had his hand up her shirt and she was fumbling with his zipper.

  I was too startled to say anything, so I just stared.

  Simone was the first to react. “It’s not what it looks like,” she said as she sat up and pushed Greg’s hand out from under her blouse.

  When Greg turned around and saw me, he practically leapt off the bed. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he said while simultaneously tucking his shirt back into his pants and sprinting for the door.

  I shut it behind him and turned to Simone. “What the hell are you doing! You’re getting married in three weeks.”

  “Three and a half,” she said as she got off the bed and straightened her suede mini-skirt.

  “And you think that extra half week somehow makes it all right?

  “We didn’t do anything. We were just kissing.”

  “Only because I walked in.”

  “I really don’t need a morals lecture from Ms. Romantically Challenged.”

  And I realized that I didn’t need to be giving one. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  I found my coat in the bedroom behind the third door on the right and slipped out. It was only eight-thirty and I didn’t want to go home, so I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Kaitlyn’s number. When I heard her answering machine, I hung up. While the rational side of my brain mentally skimmed my phone book trying to decide who to call next, the irrational side dialed Joe’s number.

  When he answered, the rational side was too startled to hang up. “Hi. It’s me, Julie.”

  “Hi,” he said sounding surprised. “I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you again. Especially not now that you’re a celebrity.”

  “Please don’t.”

  His tone softened. “Actually, I was going to call you. I just figured I’d give you a few days to recover first.”

  Then I heard a woman’s voice in the background complaining that they were going to be late and Joe telling her to give him a minute.

  The exchange lasted long enough for my rational side to recover. “The really funny part is that I dialed your number by accident. I thought I was dialing Steve. His number’s only two digits away from yours.” I knew it was lame, but my rational side was still dazed.

  “Well, I’m glad you got me instead. I’m on my way out the door, but I’ll call you tomorrow. I want the full story on the life of a romantically challenged serial dater.”

  We hung up and I drove home. My humili
ation was complete. At least until I listened to the fourteen messages on my answering machine. Six were from strange men who wanted to get to know me, four were from former classmates, two were from relatives, one was for a woman who told me my problem was that I was dating the wrong sex, and one was from Marty. They had all seen my story on Hollywood Tonight, but Marty was the only one that hadn’t asked me to call him back.

  He apologized for having to cancel our date on such short notice, but said it couldn’t be helped. He neither gave an excuse, nor suggested we reschedule. I could only deduce that he didn’t want to be seen in public with a self-proclaimed romantically challenged serial dater. After all, what would that make him?

  * * *

  As I’d hoped, by Monday morning my foray into celebritydom was forgotten for more juicy gossip. My TV appearance was replaced as the topic du jour by Parker’s assistant, who had gotten so drunk at the holiday party that she’d decided to go for a swim in Rosenthal’s pool wearing only her underwear. I’d also heard some rumors about Greg and Simone, but no one could substantiate them.

  Simone didn’t wait for Rosenthal to leave for his therapy session before she snuck into my office and gave me a hug.

  “I’m so sorry about the other night,” she said.

  “No, you were right. It was none of my business. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

  “Are you kidding? I should be thanking you for interrupting.”

  Now that we were friends again, I could ask. “So? What happened?”

  Simone told me that she and Greg had gone upstairs to look for the coats and found the four-poster bed instead. “Greg suggested we try out the down comforter and before I knew it, you were standing there looking horrified. It was just curiosity mixed with alcohol.”

  I suspected there was a dash of pre-wedding jitters too. “So is he any good?”

  “I don’t know! All we did was kiss.” Then she smiled and added, “But he’s definitely good at that.”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss him. Then again, it wasn’t too late. “Maybe I’ll get to judge for myself. Greg’s my date for your wedding.”

  Simone’s eyes widened.

  “Not a real date, a pseudo-date. Just someone to sit next to at dinner and dance with a few times. You know how awful it is to go to a wedding alone, and yours is on New Year’s Eve”

  “Sorry, Julie, but I sort of uninvited Greg. We both agreed that under the circumstances it would be better for everyone if he wasn’t there.”

  Everyone but me! “Don’t you think it’ll look a little suspicious if Greg doesn’t show?”

  “To who? Besides you and Greg, the only other person from the office I invited to the wedding was Rosenthal, and he’s not coming. Todd thought it was weird when I invited Greg in the first place. He won’t think it’s weird when I tell him Greg can’t make it. He’ll probably be glad. He never really liked Greg.”

  Great. Another dateless wedding. And the last one worked out so well.

  “What about Marty?” Simone asked. “Didn’t you two have a date this weekend?”

  I told her about Marty’s phone message and she said, “That’s too bad. Although it does explain the one he left at our house asking if he could bring someone to the wedding. I didn’t really understand it at the time, since I remembered telling him at Thanksgiving that you didn’t have a date.”

  “Simone, you promised not to interfere.”

  “I only told him because he asked if there were going to be any other single people at the wedding.”

  “Well, are there?”

  Simone thought about it for a minute. “Todd’s cousin Christine. I know she’s not bringing anyone.”

  “Men, I mean.”

  She shook her head. “Greg and Marty would’ve been the only ones. Do you want me to tell Marty it’s too late to add another guest?”

  “No, after the way he blew me off, I don’t want him as my date anyway.”

  “Then you should definitely bring someone else.”

  “Like who?” At this point, I didn’t even have any potential dates.

  “How about the bartender?”

  “Joe? The guy who went on a date with me in the afternoon and then another woman at night?”

  “I thought you said yours wasn’t a date.”

  “It wasn’t, but that’s not the point. He was definitely on a date with someone else that evening.”

  “So what?” Simone said. “It was just a date. It doesn’t mean she’s his girlfriend. You’ve gone on twenty-five dates and you still don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Don’t be so sensitive. I only meant that just because you saw him out on a date, doesn’t mean he’s not available.”

  I told Simone about my phone call to Joe on Friday night.

  “So what? You don’t even know if it was the same woman. She could’ve been some friend of his that stopped by to pick him up.”

  I stared at her incredulously. I could tell by the smile she was trying to suppress that even she didn’t believe that one.

  “Did he call you back?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but I haven’t returned yet.”

  “Well, here’s your opportunity. You can call him and ask him to the wedding.”

  Chapter 65

  Will He or Won’t He

  I had just shut my office door when the phone started ringing. I stood in the hallway with my coat on and my briefcase in my hand and debated with myself. It might be Joe. I’d left him a message earlier in the day and I needed to talk to him before I lost my nerve. I unlocked the door and ran to the phone. It wasn’t Joe. It was Mark Parsons.

  We made small talk while I scanned my list of active cases. If I was working on a matter for Rosebud, I certainly couldn’t remember it.

  “So the real reason I called,” Mark finally said, “was to see if you’re free for lunch.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. The last time we’d even spoken was when we’d bumped into each other at the movie premiere. He’d been cordial, but not effusive. “Sure. Is this business or pleasure?”

  “A little of both.”

  Now I was intrigued. “Care to elaborate?”

  “No, I’d rather keep you in suspense.”

  I agreed to meet Mark Friday afternoon at The Barn, the newest overpriced power restaurant on the west side. I certainly hoped Mark would be paying. Rosenthal would kill me if I tried to expense a $100 lunch, even if it was for his favorite client.

  On the drive home I played out various scenarios in my head, but I couldn’t come up with a satisfactory explanation for the lunch meeting. After listening to another five messages from assorted psychos on my answering machine, I called Kaitlyn.

  She concluded that I needed to switch to an unlisted phone number and the only reason Mark Parsons could possibly want to have lunch with me was because he was going to offer me a job.

  “It’s obvious,” she said.

  It wasn’t obvious to me. “Why would you think that?”

  “What else could it be? If it was a new case, he would’ve told you about it over the phone so you could get started right away. Or more likely, he would’ve called Rosenthal.”

  “Maybe he just wants to say thank you for my work on the sexual harassment case. I did get a good result.”

  “No way. That was over three months ago and he would’ve invited Rosenthal too. If he wants to meet with you alone, it’s definitely about a job.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but I couldn’t come up with a better rationale. “I can’t change jobs now. I’m up for partnership next year.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You would turn down a great opportunity now because Rosenthal might make you a partner a year from now?”

  “The only reason I’ve stuck it out this long is because I want to be partner. I’m not going to bail now when I’ve only got one more year to go.” Of course, there were no guarantees that Rosenthal was going to make me a partner. But I
had to at least try, didn’t I?

  “You’re making a mistake, but it’s your life.”

  * * *

  The upside of spending a sleepless night worrying about whether turning down the job that Mark Parsons hadn’t offered me yet would be the biggest mistake of my life was that when Joe called me back at work the next day, I was too exhausted to be nervous. I told him the real story behind my Hollywood Tonight episode, with minor modifications. I added that I’d only joined Just A Date to appease my mother. Joe had never met my mother, but he knew the type.

  I didn’t ask Joe about Barbie or if she was the woman at his house Friday night, and he didn’t offer any explanation. Nor did he ask me about Steve. Apparently we’d adopted the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. I knew it was better that way, but I was still curious.

  After we’d exhausted all the safe subjects, I eased into the wedding question by asking him if he was going home for the holidays.

  “No,” Joe said. “I just went home for Thanksgiving. I’m staying in L.A. for Christmas so I can work. How about you?”

  “Same,” I said. “It’s usually slow around Christmas, so it’s a good time to catch up on all those things I never have time to do. Besides, I have a wedding New Year’s Eve so it seemed silly to fly home for Christmas and then fly back before New Year’s.”

  I was hoping that would prompt him to ask me about the wedding. It didn’t. After ten seconds of uncomfortable silence, I dove in. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?”

  “I’m working,” he said.

  “You’re catering a party on New Year’s Eve?” I guess I should’ve expected that.

  “Actually, I’m bartending.”

  “I thought you didn’t do that anymore?”

  “I usually don’t, but the money’s really good on New Year’s, so I couldn’t turn it down. Why?”

  “No reason.” No point in telling the truth now.

  “Liar! You wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with me, didn’t you?”

  “I did not.”

  “You did too. Admit it. What did you have planned?”