Let's Make It Legal

by Patricia Kay

  After dinner that night, he settled the kids in bed and made his nightly call to Sydney.

  “Guess what?” she said excitedly. “Mr. Folger said the firm is going to have a big reception in my honor next Friday night.”

  “I thought you didn’t like stuff like that,” John teased. He was determined not to let Sydney know that he had even one negative feeling about the day’s events.

  “I usually don’t, but, I don’t know, this is really special to me, John. Do you think I’m being silly?”

  “No. In your shoes, I’d feel the same way.”

  “Would you?”

  He heard the uncertainty in her voice and knew she needed his wholehearted support. “Yes. And if I haven’t told you before, I’m proud of you.”

  There was silence for a moment, then she said, her voice husky, “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  * * *

  John stood beside Sydney the Friday of the reception and kept reminding himself of his good resolutions.

  But it was hard.

  Francis Folger approached him about midway through the reception. John knew Folger slightly. “Hello, Mr. Folger,” he said as Folger walked up.

  “Appleton,” Mr. Folger said, “good to see you again. How are you doing?

  “I’m doing well.”

  “I was sorry to hear you’d left Chasan & Jeglinski. Don’t suppose you’re in the market for a new job? We’re always looking for good people.”

  John smiled. “Thanks, but I’m pretty happy with what I’m doing.”

  “Some kind of personnel agency, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. We specialize in legal temporaries. As a matter of fact, your firm uses us.”

  “Really? Well, you must be good.”

  “We are.” John would have elaborated, but Folger’s attention had obviously wandered. He had that look that people get when they are no longer interested in a subject but aren’t quite sure how to escape.

  His gaze lighted on Sydney, who stood a few feet away. He smiled. “We’re very proud of Sydney,” he said. “She’s a real asset to the firm.”

  “Yes. I’m proud of her, too.”

  “She’s accomplished what very few people are able to do,” Folger continued. “Just think of it. A White House ceremony. Isn’t that something?”

  “Yes,” John agreed.

  “The prestige she’s brought to our firm is worth a lot to us. And she’s only begun. That’s the beauty of it.”

  “Yes,” John said again. He was beginning to wish he’d stayed home. He felt like a fifth wheel. Sydney didn’t need him here. Hell, she’d hardly looked in his direction for at least half an hour.

  Francis Folger walked away a few minutes later, and John headed for the bar. Once he had a fresh drink, he stood off to the side and watched Sydney across the room. She looked beautiful tonight. She’d bought a dark blue cocktail dress for the occasion. It was a short, off-the-shoulder number he’d helped her select, and it not only showed off her beautiful shoulders, but exposed a lot of her gorgeous legs. He still couldn’t believe she’d ever thought she was anything but beautiful.

  He watched as well-wishers crowded around her. He saw how she smiled and laughed. Her face was flushed with excitement. Any man would be proud to call her his. John watched her, deep in thought, and didn’t realize someone had joined him until he spoke.

  “Kinda hard being engaged to old Sydney, isn’t it?”

  John turned. The man who had spoken was Doug Farrell, the jerk who had been so obnoxious to Sydney that first day when John worked as her paralegal. “I don’t find it hard at all,” John replied coldly.

  Farrell shrugged, but his eyes contained a sly expression. “I guess you must be one of those liberated guys who don’t mind a woman wearing the pants in the family, huh?”

  John stared at Doug. He considered several options, one of which was to aim a well-placed blow right in the middle of Farrell’s smarmy face. “If I were in your shoes, I’d be jealous, too,” he finally said. Then he walked away.

  But Farrell’s attitude bothered him, and John wondered if all the rest of Sydney’s associates were thinking along the same lines.

  For the rest of the evening, John had a hard time keeping a pleasant smile on his face. Everything anyone said to him seemed suspect, and he kept looking for hidden meanings.

  Sydney, on the other hand, bubbled with excitement. When the reception was finally over, and they were on their way home, she talked a blue streak.

  “Did you see old Mr. Hubbard tonight?” she said. “I couldn’t believe he actually came to the reception. He never comes to anything anymore.”

  “Well, this was pretty special,” John said. “It isn’t every day one of their employees is invited to the White House.”

  “Oh, John, I really am excited about this.”

  “I know you are.”

  When they arrived at her condo, he kissed her goodnight at her door.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” she said.

  “I’d better not.” He knew it was small-minded of him, but he just couldn’t keep up the pretense of one-hundred percent enthusiasm. Maybe tomorrow, but he’d had enough of everything tonight.

  “But it’s early, and I thought...” Her voice dropped, and her eyes held an invitation. “I thought we’d celebrate.”

  He forced a smile. “I know. I wish I could, but the sitter can’t stay late tonight.”

  “Well, okay...” Her face reflected her disappointment.

  At that moment, John didn’t like himself very much. Because he was feeling guilty, he gathered her close and held her for a moment.

  “I really am sorry,” he said.

  She lifted her face. “I know. It’s okay.”

  All the way home, he told himself that it wasn’t Sydney’s fault she had the kind of success he’d always envisioned for himself.

  You’d better get used to it. Francis Folger was right tonight. This is only the beginning for Sydney. And you’re going to have to learn how to live with it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sydney floated through the next few days. She’d never realized she was the sort of person who would get such a kick out of praise and recognition.

  It was embarrassing to find out she wasn’t as high-minded as she’d thought she was. That she enjoyed the awe she saw in the eyes of the younger associates, and the respect—some of it grudging, she was sure—from the more experienced members of the firm.

  It gave her particular pleasure to see Doug Farrell’s obvious envy. She didn’t even mind that he tried to make light of her accomplishment. His pettiness hurt him a lot more than it hurt her.

  But her euphoria was tempered by the knowledge that something was wrong with John. She hadn’t seen him since the reception on Friday, and although they’d talked on the phone each evening since, he had seemed distant. On Monday evening, she finally decided to say something.

  “John, what’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. But you just seem so preoccupied and distant. Did I do something?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. There was no hesitation at all in his answer. ‘ ‘I’m just worried about Emily.”

  “Emily?”

  “She’s been sick since Saturday morning.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Well, you didn’t,” Sydney said. She wanted to say more, but contented herself with, “What’s the matter with her?”

  “She’s got a strep infection, and she’s been running a fever. She’ll have to stay home from school, probably all week.”

  “Knowing Emily, she’s probably chomping at the bit.”

  “You could say that,” John said.

  Although John’s explanation made perfect sense, something about it didn’t ring true to Sydney. Certainly, he was concerned about Emily. But his distance from Sydney had begun before E
mily got sick. It had started Friday night.

  There was only one reason for his behavior that Sydney could see. She was afraid John was jealous of her success, even if he hadn’t admitted his feelings to himself. And if that was true, what could she do about it? Not much, especially when he wouldn’t even discuss his job situation, let alone admit he wasn’t happy. If only he’d be honest with her.

  She was mulling over this problem when, about three o’clock that Tuesday afternoon, Norma buzzed her to say Mr. Creighton was calling again.

  Sydney picked up the phone eagerly. “Mr. Creighton! Hello!”

  “Hello, Miss Wells.”

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Miss Wells sounds so formal. Do you think you could call me Sydney?”

  He laughed. “That’s easy enough. I’d be happy to, but only if you’ll call me Neil.”

  “It’s a deal.” She smiled. “Neil.”

  For a few minutes, they talked about Sydney’s upcoming trip to Washington.

  Then Neil Creighton said, “But your trip isn’t the only reason I called. There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you, Sydney.”

  Sydney waited.

  “Vicki Booker, who’s been our lead counsel here at the league for the past twelve years, has given her notice. She’ll be leaving us the first of May.”

  Sydney admired Vicki Booker’s work. The woman was a brilliant litigator and a much-feared adversary in the courtroom. The league would have a hard time finding anyone even half as good to replace her.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “She’s been my role model for years.”

  “Yes, we’re sorry, too. We’ll all miss Vicki, but change is inevitable. No one stays forever.”

  “It’s good you can be so philosophical about it.”

  “I have to be philosophical. There’s nothing I can do to change things. Vicki’s not leaving to take another job or anything like that. Her husband is very ill, and she wants to be at home with him.”

  “Even so, I’ll bet it’s going to be difficult to replace her.”

  “Well, actually, not so difficult.” He chuckled. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Sydney? After a lengthy discussion, the board of directors has voted unanimously to authorize me to offer you the position of lead counsel.”

  Sydney had just picked up her water glass to take a sip, and she almost choked when Neal Creighton’s words sank in. Her! They were offering her Vicki Booker’s job. Her hand shook as she set her glass down.

  “Are you all right?” Neil asked.

  “Y-yes. I—I just choked on some water, that’s all.” Sydney coughed, then cleared her throat. “Mr. Creighton... uh... Neil, you took me completely by surprise. I had no idea that’s what you were leading up to.”

  He chuckled again. “Well, now that you do, how do you feel about it?”

  “I—I don’t know. I’m... immensely flattered, of course, but...”

  “I was afraid there might be a but,” he said.

  “The thing is, a few months ago I would have jumped at this chance. Now, though, things are a bit different. I just got engaged, and my fiance owns a business here in Houston, so I’ve someone other than myself to consider. Could I have a few days to talk it over with him?”

  “Well, of course. . .if you need some time, you must take it. Take as long as you need. Although we would like an answer as soon as possible, because if you’re not going to accept, we’ll have to find someone else. We’d like whoever will be replacing Vicki to come on board by the first of April or at the very latest, the fifteenth, so the new counsel can spend some time with Vicki before she leaves for good. Of course, she’ll be available later on for questions and things like that, but it won’t be the same as working with her on a daily basis.”

  “I understand.” Sydney’s mind whirled. Delight, exhilaration, and then trepidation over John’s reaction to this latest piece of news, all churned together to make her feel almost light-headed. “I’ll make my decision soon. I promise.”

  She knew Neil Creighton had been surprised by her request for time. What he was offering her was a plum, one he had surely expected her to snatch without a second’s hesitation.

  But how could she have? She couldn’t do something that had such far-reaching ramifications without talking to John. He was too important to her for her to jeopardize their relationship, no matter what the reason. She had to include him in the decision.

  For the next few minutes, they discussed terms, which were flatteringly generous, then Neil said, “I’ll look forward to hearing from you. And Sydney?”

  “Yes?”

  “I do so hope you’ll take the position. You’d be a wonderful successor to Vicki. A worthy successor.”

  “Thank you, Neil. Just having you offer me the position means a lot to me.”

  After they hung up, Sydney sat there in a state of stunned disbelief. Never had she imagined anything like this happening. It was wonderful. It was fabulous! She felt like dancing around the room, but contented herself with replaying the conversation in her mind.

  Oh, God, she wanted the job so badly. She had wanted to shout Yes, yes, I’ll be there tomorrow if you say so! when Neil Creighton had made his offer. It had taken all her self-control to ask for time to talk to John.

  Some of her happiness faded as she thought about John. What would he say when she told him? Would he be happy for her? Would he finally be willing to change his life to allow her this opportunity?

  Or would she have to decline? Oh, God, she couldn’t turn this down. Surely she wouldn’t have to. Surely this news would be the catalyst that would snap John out of his ennui. Surely now he would realize that he could no longer hide from real life. Surely he would urge her to accept and assure her that he would be there for her, every step of the way.

  Yes, she told herself, of course, that’s what would happen, because the alternative was unthinkable.

  She couldn’t say no to this offer. The thought of turning down the job made her feel almost sick inside. It was such a fantastic opportunity the Advocacy League was offering her. The opportunity of a lifetime. A pinnacle of success for someone in her field.

  If she took the position of lead counsel for the league, she would no longer have to worry about billable hours, no longer have to put up with the politics of a firm like Folger & Hubbard, no longer have to bite her tongue and accept the kind of subtle discrimination dished out by some of her male co-workers.

  She would live and work in Washington, D.C. She would be a part of something important, an organization that was doing work that would have long-range effects in her field. She would be a mover and shaker, just as her father had predicted long ago.

  Her father!

  He would pass out from excitement when he heard the news. How she wished she could call him and talk to him about this, but she knew that was impossible. John deserved to be the first person she told. She would talk to him tonight. She was supposed to go over to his house for dinner at seven-thirty, anyway.

  For the rest of the afternoon, she couldn’t concentrate on her work. All she could think about was the telephone call from Neil Creighton.

  Finally, at five-thirty, she decided to call it a day. She wasn’t accomplishing anything anyway, so she might as well go home. She began cleaning off her desk. Just as she’d finished putting some papers into her briefcase, her intercom buzzed, and the switchboard operator announced that her father was on line two.

  “Sydney?” His voice vibrated with excitement. “Sydney, I just got a call from Senator Gavin.” Clifford Gavin and Sydney’s father had been law school roommates. “He told me he heard through the grapevine that you’re going to be offered the job of lead counsel for the Children’s Advocacy League.”

  Sydney grimaced. Damn. Why did her father’s connections have to be so good? And so speedy with the news?

  “Sydney? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, Dad. I heard you.”
<
br />   “Well? Is that all you have to say? Aren’t you excited? By God, this is the kind of thing I knew would happen. Lead counsel for the Advocacy League! Sydney, nothing’s going to stop you now. I told you your name would be a household word. I’m so proud of you, I could burst! I wonder when they’ll call you?”

  “I’ve already gotten the offer, Dad, but I, uh, I’m not sure I’m going to accept.” Saying the words out loud gave her that sick feeling again.

  “Not going to accept! What do you mean? Are you crazy? This is what we’ve worked for all these years! Of course, you’re going to accept.”

  “We’ve worked for?” Sydney was unable to stem the tide of resentment that swept through her as she zeroed in on the phrase that had caused it.

  “Oh, you know what I meant,” her father sputtered. His voice dropped soothingly. “Aw, come on, baby, you were kidding your old man, weren’t you? You wouldn’t turn down an opportunity like this.”

  Sydney sighed, her resentment ebbing. How could she stay mad at her father? Especially when she wanted exactly what he wanted for her. “I don’t want to, but I can’t accept until I talk to John about it. If he’s not willing to go to Washington, I-I don’t see where I’ll have any other choice.”

  There was silence for a long moment. Then her father said, “Promise me something, baby.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me that no matter what John says, before you call the league with your answer, you’ll talk to me first. Will you promise me that?”

  Sydney decided his request was reasonable and the least she could do, especially if.. .no, she refused to think along those lines. John would never ask her to turn down the job. “Okay,” she said. “I promise.”

  * * *

  The office phone rang a few minutes after six. Janet had left early that afternoon, saying she and Mike had an appointment. John was already on his way upstairs, and he decided he’d just let the answering machine pick up. He didn’t feel like talking to any more clients today. He was tired, and he needed to check on Emily.