by Kara Chase
Here are two people, Vivian and this guy Lucien, who are clearly so in love with each other that they hate each other.
Which would be really kind of adorable if not for the fact that Vivian is stressing me out a little with just how clearly hung up on him she is. Sure, he’s driving her crazy. But like she loves it...admit it, girl.
I digress. The situation at hand is all too hilarious to not enjoy a little.
I watch as the plates of food begin to arrive and Vivian looks over at me, rolling her eyes.
Whatever, Vivian. Like you don’t love this game. This is the first time anyone has ever stood up to her in like forever.
Well, let me take it back. This is the first time anyone male has stood up to her. Because there has been at least one female I know of that’s been able to keep Vivian Sweet on her toes.
Who is it?
Why...me.
I first met Vivian when we were 1L’s at Harvard Law School. It was a Constitutional Law class and supremely boring. I had decided that my study group (the most coveted study group on campus) the night before was going to each bring a bottle of wine. And then...let’s just say that studying is not what we ended up doing. 4 am on Harvard Yard with a bunch of stressed out first year law students drunk off their minds because their so scared about what Monday morning is going to be sounds like a great idea at 4 am.
But come 7:30 as you’re preparing for class and you have 7 angry dwarves wearing steel toed boots stomping inside of your brain while your whole body feels like a marinated steak makes you wish you’d stayed in that Sunday and instead watched 60 Minutes with a quiet cup of hot cocoa and then gone to bed.
“Who can explain to me whether Korematsu Vs. The United States would stood ground today?” the professor asked the class. I can remember because Korematsu wasn’t on the required reading list. And the entire classroom went silent. You could hear a pin drop.
“Miss Dixon,” the professor called and my already cold sweat broke out into chills as I heard my name. “Kindly tell us the facts of the Korematsu case.”
I fumbled through my notes and looked up at the professor.
“Let me guess,” the professor said with a cold smile. “You haven’t read the case yet.”
“It wasn’t required reading, Profess--” I began but was interrupted immediately.
“And you are at Harvard Law School, Miss Dixon. Its assigned and has bearing on other cases. If you can’t do your due diligence beyond what’s expected of you, then how are you to go out into the world and adjudicate the law to those who require your help?”
All eyes were on me. And then directly next to me, the girl who was sitting next to me began to speak.
“Korematsu vs. United States,” she began. “In response to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor during World War II, the U.S. government decided to require Japanese-Americans to move into relocation camps as a matter of national security. President Franklin Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 in February 1942, two months after Pearl Harbor. A Japanese-American man living in San Leandro, Fred Korematsu, chose to stay at his residence rather than obey the order to relocate. Korematsu was arrested and convicted of violating the order. He responded by arguing that Executive Order 9066 violated the Fifth Amendment. The Ninth Circuit affirmed Korematsu's conviction.”
“Very good, Miss Sweet,” the professor began. “And you did the reading?”
“Only because it was assigned as reading as part of Natalie Dixon’s study group. I was supposed to go over it tonight but looks like you beat me to it,” she answered cooly.
“I see,” our professor said coolly, looking over at me. “It appears I was incorrect about you, Miss Dixon. I shall give you the benefit of the doubt, seeing as you had planned for it with your study group. But just this once.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and looked over to Vivian. She had a smirk on her face. “I suppose this means I should invite you to our group now,” I said.
It was the best decision I ever made. Vivian was smart. She was funny. She never backed down and always came prepared. If you went up against her, you’d better have brought your A game because this woman had everything she needed at her fingertips through constant preparation.
I admired her greatly and we soon became fast friends. So when she went into securities litigation and I went into Oil & Gas we were sort of bummed. She was working downtown and I was in the midtown offices of Shearman & Sterling.
But we kept in touch. I moved into The Trident after I was made the youngest partner at Shearman and bought an apartment. Although I had ulterior motives. The 69th floor - not the penthouse by any means - was being remodeled and was going to be made into three very large triplexes. I had my eye on that. But what I also wanted more than anything else to live close to my law school friend who had inspired me for so much of my career.
I had always told Vivian that she was working too hard. That she needed a man and needed to find some happiness in her life. She had just held up a mirror at me and told me that I needed to take my own advice.
Well, right now it looks like she’s the one that’s taken the advice.
Now only if she’d be a little less thick headed and understand that she’s the one that’s fallen in love. Of course she wants the apartment. Who wouldn’t. But I think along the way, she’s gotten a bit smitten with this roguish bad boy banker.
And by the way, who is his gorgeous friend?
I mean, I’ve dated around a lot. You have to in New York City. Prince Charming isn’t going to just come out of the sky. For every one good guy out there there are a thousand other snakes. And for every snake there are a thousand other losers.
So in an island like Manhattan, it’s basically you and every other single girl looking for the diamond in the rough.
“Steak tartare, tuna tartare, a bakers dozen of Kumamoto bay oysters, Sevruga caviar, ahi tuna poke, Korean friend chicken wings with Sriracha, mini wagyu beef sliders, and some crab tacos,” the server says placing plates of food on the table. “Also included are the three soups and compliments of the chef to round out your first course, locally sources lobster mashed potatoes.”
“I can’t believe you ordered everything on the fucking menu,” Vivian seethes quietly and I glance in her direction.
“I had to,” Lucien says glibly. Otherwise you’d take what was on my plate and say you wanted it and one of us would have to not eat.”
“I bought that apartment first,” Vivian retorts.
“No you didn’t” Lucien returns.
“Did too!” she replies.
“Did not!” he says.
Derek gives me a look across the table. It’s the kind of look that asks me whether I can believe that these are two pillars of society. A billionaire hedge fund manager and the greatest lawyer since Clarence Darrow.
I can’t fucking believe it either.
“You made the apartment all pink!” Lucien accuses. They’ve since stopped going back and forth and are no lobbing accusations at each other.
“Your exercise bench smells of sweat!” Vivian throws back. “What kind of animal can’t use the gym?”
“Oh please,” Lucien groans. “You probably just go to the gym so you can wear your Lululemon yoga pants and stretch. Catch a few stares. Wiggle your ass here and there and then go shower before cocktails.”
“So you think I’m fat?!” Vivian yells.
“I think many things, Vivian Sweet,” Lucien says and I see Derek’s eyes flash in concern. Is he as adept at reading this train wreck as I am? Because shit is about to get bad if these two don’t stop.
“What things?” Vivian asks.
“Too many to mention, and now that you want to know Vivian, you know what?” Lucien asks and pauses. Vivian is shaking in rage somehow. “I’m not going to tell you whether I think you’re fat.”
That’s it. Lucien knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s pushing her buttons so hard.
And that’s when I hear a low murmur come from
Lucien. Almost as if he’s finishing off his sentence with a single word in a subdued voice.
“You already know.”
I look to Derek. I look to Vivian. Her face is red. And getting redder by the second.
We’ve gone from having a peace summit it looks like to now starting another war.
And this one is going to be World War 3.
Chapter Twenty-One
Derek
Yeah, Lucien. Smart move.
You couldn’t say the word “fat” just a little bit lower?
You had to go and get a woman all insecure about her weight? Couldn’t you have just called her a bitch like normal people? People who want to fucking live.
Lucien and I go back a long ways. He’s always been a bit hot-headed. But he’s normally able to make good decisions.
With this broad though? All rational thought is out the fucking door. As if it decided it couldn’t work in the same mental space as this Vivian woman, who when first meeting seems really lovely.
“What did you say?” Vivian says to Lucien.
“I said you already know,” he replies.
Now I know what Lucien is doing.
He’s playing on Vivian’s own internal fears with plenty of plausible deniability. And Vivian knows it too, by the looks of it.
Jesus fuck, is her face getting any redder? But rather than blow up, she seems very calm. Obviously the next move is going to be up to her. Is she going to escalate it? Or defuse this powder keg of a situation.
“Well thank you, Lucien,” Vivian says, looking around the table after a few deep breaths. “I really needed to know what you thought and if you’re going to play that game, I’m not going to engage you any longer.”
Vivian grabs the lobster mashed potatoes and Lucien gives me a triumphant grin. I don’t know why. At the end of this meal he’s the one that’s going to have to go back and live with this woman until they figure out their apartment situation.
Lucien turns to Vivian. And she takes the bowl of lobster mashed potatoes and scoops up a heaping handful with a spoon. Jesus, this woman loves her carbs.
And she flings the contents of the spoon towards Lucien. It hits him square in the face.
I’ve never seen those old Batman shows with Adam West but I know they used sound effects. If they did this scene, there would be a giant “SPLAT” that happens when the mashed carbs hit Lucien right in the fucking face.
Don’t get me wrong. The dude totally may have deserved it. But now the potatoes are slowly dripping down his face and landing all over his custom tailored Brioni suit.
And that’s just a shame for any man, you know?
But Lucien isn’t one to get disheartened. He takes three pieces of Ahi tuna poke with the chopsticks provided.
“So this is what we’re descending to, Vivian?” he asks as he stuffs them down her blouse. She squeals because I mean who wants cold fish traveling down your shirt and sticking to your fantastic looking tits? I’m sure if I was ever a woman, I would definitely not want that ever. Fuck.
Next up is Vivian - eyes cold and actions measured. She dumps the entire tray of oysters on Lucien’s lap.
I look over to Vivian’s friend, Natalie to see what her take is on this. She looks appropriately horrified. She catches my eye and for a moment we just stare at each other.
God, this girl is beautiful. I mean, I understand the fact that Lucien probably is in all sorts of fucking lust with Vivian. Hell, he’s got a chance that he’s probably in love with that woman too. She’s too much like him. But her friend. Oh man, her friend is something else.
Long dark brown hair that comes to her shoulders. A slender fucking body that you just want to wrap your arms around. The cutest face, with just a hint of makeup to accentuate her features to the fullest extent.
Those tits. I would suck on those tits for ages. That slender body tapers off into a narrow waist and then a deliciously plump ass. The kind of ass you want to spank till its red. And then the shapeliest of legs a man could ever fucking hope for.
All this passes by in a second. Natalie is looking at me and I know she likes what she sees. CEO of Carter Jeffries. Hell, I’m on the news a lot. I’m a legend in my own right. And if she’s in any professional industry then she has to know who I am.
“Seems like our friends are descending from name calling to food fighting,” I say to Natalie and she chuckles slightly.
“It’s probably a good way to cut down on calories,” she responds back.
Her eyes are twinkling and all of a sudden I’m in fucking heaven. I look to the side and see a horrified server holding a tray. It has delectable pieces of food on it.
“Bring that here,” Lucien commands. Without waiting for the server, he jumps up and grabs a bowl of creamed spinach. The contents land on Vivian’s lap the next instant, thrown across the room.
Natalie scoops up a finger of creamed spinach from where it fell on the table during it’s trajectory.
“This is actually quite good. Have you tried it before?” she asks me.
“I haven’t. And looks like I won’t get a chance to now since its purpose is done,” I reply.
She smiles at me. “I’m Natalie Dixon,” she tells me.
“Derek Tate,” I tell her. I hold out my hand and she shakes it.
“I know who you are. CEO of Carter Jeffries?”
“That’s right. And what do you do?”
A fusillade of asparagus heads towards Lucien from across the table, poking him in the eyes. This time I reach out my hand and grab two. I give an asparagus to Natalie.
“Dinner is served,” I tell her.
“Thank you,” she replies. She chews on her asparagus thoughtfully and then replies, “I work as a lawyer for oil and gas companies. I used to work at Shearman and Sterling before starting my own firm a while back.”
We talk shop for a few minutes. It turns out my firm has done business with hers.
Vivian gets out of her chair. She’s carrying two soup bowls of tomato bisque. Lucien comes to join her with a plate of what looks like cheesecake.
“I think this is the finale,” I tell Natalie. “Want to get out of here before we get caught up and have a drink with me downstairs at the bar?”
The Trident, like many other ultra-luxury buildings, has a members only bar and library for residents. It’s on the 31st floor. Natalie eagerly nods. The next minute we’ve both quickly gotten out of the line of fire by sitting at the table. It’s striking that neither Vivian nor Lucien even registers that we’ve left.
“You think they’ll work it out eventually?” Natalie asks me as I push the button for the elevator.
We both watch as Vivian dumps the contents of the soup on Lucien’s head as he jams the plate of cheesecake on her face. The head waiter is beside himself and urging them to stop. Other residents who were enjoying dinner are simply sitting and staring. The Condo Board President, Edwin, who has always been a curious and odd little fucker is slack jawed as he dines alone in front of his tremendously large steak.
“I think they need a lot of time to catch up with their feelings,” I tell her.
Natalie smiles. The elevator door opens. She walks in, shaking her ass slightly from side to side. I follow. I’d be lying if I said my cock wasn’t hard at the sight of her in that tight dress.
The elevator door closes.
And a world of possibilities opens up for me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vivian
“Come inside,” Edwin says as I open his office’s door.
The whale of a man is sitting on a large leather chair, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s a reinforced chair. Maybe it has a metal plate underneath?
I squint as I step inside the office, trying to look at the man through the cloud of smoke hanging in the air. He has a cigarette perched on the corner of his lip, and I notice that the ash is falling straight on his shirt.
Swatting away the ash with a casual movement of his hand, Edwin leans back
on his chair and motions to me to come closer.
I raise a brow, but I do move closer. I sit on the chair across his desk, masking my disgust with a confident stride. I wish I didn’t have to come here, but I really can’t allow this asshole to do what he wants.
“Glad to see you in here, Ms. Sweet,” he starts, his beady eyes running up and down my body.
Disgusting. One more shower I’ll have to take today.
“I’m here, as you wanted me to,” I say, cutting straight to the chase.
No use beating around the bush, right? The less time I have to spend with him, the better.
“Yes, yes. Took you awhile, didn’t it? I was expecting you day before yesterday, Ms. Sweet. I don’t like to be kept waiting, you know?”
“That makes two of us, Mr. Snodgrass,” I tell him, carefully folding my legs and staring right into his eyes. “But I’m a very busy person, as I’m sure you know as well.”
“Yeah, yeah, very busy person,” he repeats back at me, his Russian accent suddenly becoming stronger.
It almost feels as if he’s mocking me.
“I am sure you big shot lawyers always have big important stuff to do...so, yes, it is good you found the time in your very busy and important schedule to come see me.”
Asshole.
I almost want to reach across the desk, grab him by his tie, and bash his head against the desk. Kind of a something Lucien would want to do, but whatever. Sometimes dealing with crap like this in a less...lady-like fashion really is the best way to go about it.
But not today. Today, I have my lawyer hat on, and it’s more than enough to crush him.
“So, as you know,” he continues, “we can’t allow two people to own the same apartment. You are a lawyer, so you must know that, yes?”
“Yes, I’m a lawyer, but I don’t know that. And more importantly, you don’t know that. Within the confines of the law, I have the right to—”