“Oh, so it's a date now? See, I thought you were trying to get out of it and using your clothes as an excuse. And, that's a shame, really, because I think you look just fine.” Morgan replied with an expression that could only be called a leer.
I was never one to underestimate the power of a good leer.
This was especially true if the said expression was worn by a very attractive man on a day I had previously felt like I resembled Jack Lemmon in drag.
“So, it's a date?” He asked again.
“You're not giving me any time to think.”
“I know. No time to think, no time for your friends to plant bad advice. Nothing but you and me and maybe a nice bottle of Cabernet. What do you say?” He held out my coat like a challenge.
Briefly infused with the bravery of a matador I grabbed at my rustling cape and accepted. “It's a date.”
* * *
“So, did you sleep with him?”
“No!” I exclaimed, stealing a French fry from Livvie's plate since none came with the cottage cheese and fruit platter I had ordered.
“But he came upstairs?'
“Yup.” My coy smile unintentionally revealing some details to my friend.
“Oh, come on. You have to give me something to go on.”
“A lady doesn't kiss and tell.”
“First of all, I know you much too well for you to pull the lady card.” Livvie laughed. “And second, if that's your answer, it means there was at least some kissing involved.”
I ducked my head at my friend's shrewd deductive skills and could feel the blush burning my cheeks. Throwing her a bone, I admitted, “Yes. There was some kissing.”
“Oh, just take them already.” Livvie pushed the fries toward me, an amused grin on her face. “So, can I only assume that the second date was better than the first?”
It was odd. I was dressed all wrong, didn't have time to prepare what I was going to order or what we were going to talk about and still the evening had gone amazingly well. Ready to share a few details, I looked up at my friend surprised to find her chewing on her perfectly lined and glossed lips. It was Livvie's nervous tell, a very rare sight, indeed. I looked at her plate and realized her burger had been barely touched and the only fries missing were the ones I'd consumed.
“Hey, how come you aren't eating?”
Livvie continued to chew on her lip. “I have to tell you something and I think you're going to get mad.”
“That sounds promising.”
“I've been keeping a secret from you.”
“How big?” I asked, trying to lighten the tone and not let on just how freaked out I was to be faced with an uncharacteristically timid Livvie. “Did you steal twenty bucks from my purse while I was in the ladies' room or were you actually born a man?”
“Somewhere in between.” My friend smiled, a little of the tension broken.
“Come on, then, spill.”
“Well, I've been kind of seeing someone for the last few weeks.”
“That's great!” I exclaimed, not sure why Livvie would have kept this information a secret. I supposed she would have considered it poor form to tell me she'd met someone special while I was still looking. But still, that wouldn't have been a reason for me to get mad. Upset, despondent and in search of a pint of Chunky Monkey, perhaps, but not mad. “So, who's the lucky guy? Tell me about him.”
“Here's where I think you're going to get mad.” Livvie said, shredding a paper straw wrapper, yet another atypical show of nerves. “You already know him.”
My heart stopped as I considered the worst case scenario. “Tell me you're not dating Ryan.”
“It's not Ryan.” Livvie admitted, but with her eyes downcast in a manner that made me believe the worst case scenario was probably not far from correct. I considered who I hated most in the world.
“Cory Latham?”
“God, no!” Livvie's eyes leapt from the table to meet mine, thoroughly exasperated. “Jesus, Bennett. Even if I did swing that way, I'd have way better taste than to date Cory Latham.”
“Well, I know you're not dating Eddie and you're too loyal to go after a guy I like, so that leaves Morgan out.”
“It's not Morgan. It's Donnie.”
“Donnie? Donnie DiMarco? You're dating your ex-husband?”
“Well, not so much dating him as sleeping with him.” Burden of her secret lifted, Livvie pulled back her plate of fries and began munching away with gusto. It was just as well, as I'd suddenly lost my appetite.
“Donnie is arrogant and thoughtless.”
“I know.”
“He broke your heart,” I reminded her.
“I know.”
“I've never had a conversation with the man where he looked me in the eye instead of the chest.”
“I know.” She dragged a fry through a puddle of ketchup. “We're working on that.”
I tossed my napkin from my lap into my plate. “So you admit Donnie is horrible, and you're voluntarily sleeping with him anyway?”
My friend just shrugged. “He's comfortable. As bad as Donnie can be, he can also be very sweet, and that's the side I've been seeing lately. He's also very smart and funny and for some reason, we just work together. I don't know if it's a permanent thing. I mean, we haven't talked about being exclusive, but for now it seems to be working.”
About to launch into the list of reasons why Donnie wasn't good enough for my friend, I was interrupted by the insistent buzzing of my cell phone. Checking the number, I turned to Livvie. “It's Eddie. I can let it go to voice mail.”
“Go ahead and take it,” she waved. “Besides, he already knows.”
“He knows?” I answered the call. “You know?”
The younger Thornton brother laughed at my greeting. “I know a lot of things. What are you talking about specifically?”
“Livvie and Donnie. You knew about that and didn't tell me?”
“Sorry, but I was sworn to secrecy. Livvie was afraid you'd kill her for dating the evil ex and called me for advice in keeping you on a leash.”
“Nice. I'm glad my friends are conspiring behind my back.”
“Everyone needs a hobby.” Eddie dismissed, entirely undisturbed by his behavior. “I suppose this is an incredibly bad time for me to ask you for a favor, then?'
“Yes, but that's not going to stop you. What do you want?”
“I need you to get something out of Dad's safety deposit box for me.”
“You want me to break into Jeremy's safety deposit box and steal for you?” I repeated, entirely for the purpose of piquing Livvie's interest and drawing her into the conversation. It worked as my friend leaned over the table, waiting for further details.
“Oh, jeez,” Eddie groaned. “It's nothing like that. I need a copy of my high school transcript and diploma. All I want are papers that already belong to me. I just don't want dad to know I need them yet. Since Dad rented the box with Uncle Ed when they opened the diner, I know you have the other key.”
“Why do you need that stuff? And why can't you just call Portland High for a new copy?”
Eddie sighed. “I knew you were going to make a big thing about this. You remember Carl Harris, right? Well, I can't call the high school because Carl works in the Registrar's office and I think we both know that's not a good idea.”
I did have to agree with my friend. When it came to failed romances and relationships that had gone down in flames, my dating history didn't come close to rivaling Eddie's. “But that doesn't explain why you need the papers in the first place.”
“If you must know, those are the last pieces I need to submit to collect my Associate's Degree in business marketing.”
“Are you serious? That's terrific, Eddie! Why are you keeping it a secret?”
“It won't be a secret much longer. I just want to show Dad an actual diploma when I tell him and I need to prove I graduated from high school to get it processed.”
“He's going to be thrilled.” My uncle's be
lief in the value of a higher education was unmatched. Eddie's lack of interest in such things bothered his father, and the knowledge that this one rift in the otherwise ideal Thornton family was about to be healed filled me with immeasurable joy.
“Yeah, I think he's going to be pretty stoked.” I heard a sheepish pride in my friend's reply. “I mean, it's only a two year program and it took me six years to get through, but it is an honest to God degree from an accredited university. Real sheepskin and everything.”
“I'll FedEx the papers to you tomorrow,” I assured my friend. “But why didn't you tell me?”
“I know how you hate keeping secrets from my dad, and you've already got my back with kind of a really big one. I just didn't want to add to the list.”
I laughed at the truth of the statement.
“I'll be up next month and I should have the diploma by them. I worked out the plans with David last night. I'm flying into New York to pick him up and we're going to drive north for a big family dinner and unveiling. Big brother has to go to that annual conference in London, so he got his flight out of Portland the next day.”
“Sounds perfect.” I could barely stand the thought of waiting a month to see the look on Jeremy's face.
“Hey, Sarah. There is one more thing.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“In case you haven't noticed, Livvie's really happy. I want you to go easy on her.”
I said my goodbyes and turned back to Livvie with a critical eye, realizing that Eddie might very well be right.
“You're happy?”
“Yeah. I think I really am.”
“Alright.” I went to grab one final fry but was disappointed to find they were already gone. Attacking my diet soda with much less enthusiasm, I continued. “But I want you to be careful and keep your eyes open. If Donnie hurts you, I'm going to pull a Fried Green Tomatoes and have Jeremy serve him as Wednesday's meatloaf special.”
Livvie smiled, bright and sincere for the first time since we sat down. “I would expect nothing less.”
We ate in silence for a moment before she asked, “So, Eddie has checked in for the week. Have you heard from the elder Thornton brother lately?”
“I talked to David yesterday to update him on the job interview at Claire's law firm.”
“Did you tell him you kicked ass?”
I laughed at the description only a loyal friend would provide. “I told him it went well and I'm guardedly optimistic that I might be called back for a second interview in the next few weeks.”
“Did you happen to mention your date with Morgan?”
I stabbed at a grape with a little more vigor than was absolutely necessary. “Didn't come up.”
“Really? That's just shocking. David didn't ask out of the blue whether you went on a date with a man that he still thinks you're not talking to? I can't imagine why it didn't come up.”
“I'll tell him eventually.” I asserted my eyes to study the overripe melon slices and under-ripe strawberries still tinged with yellow which decorated my plate. “I just have a feeling telling David about Morgan is going to lead to some other conversations.”
“Do you think?” Livvie's sarcastic edge could not be missed. The problem was, she was right. I had been hiding my head in the sand for so long that the only course left was a confrontation of epic proportions.
I knew it. Livvie knew it. And I was afraid that sooner, rather than later, David would know it.
July
I SIGNED MY NAME TO THE LETTER in my hand, blew gently on the ink until I was certain it was dry and returned the heavy fountain pen to its rightful place in my desk drawer. The expensive pen had been my college graduation gift from my father, and was used on infrequent occasions to sign documents that deserved an extra flair of formality. This pen had seen my law school application, my first Superior Court Complaint, and now it had witnessed my letter of resignation from Frank's firm.
It had been a long and difficult few months as I discussed career options with other attorneys in town and engaged in several rigorous interviews. After our talk in the diner, I had weighed Frank's words heavily and finally decided that while I loved working with him – and I truly did – he couldn't offer me what I had come to realize was important to me. My career was not going to progress any further while working at his firm. At the end of the day, 29 was just too young an age to settle.
I carefully folded the letter in thirds, placed it in a heavy bond envelope I'd brought in from home and walked down the hall to my boss' office. I had waited until late afternoon to make sure we would be able to talk uninterrupted, and turning to meet Gloria's eye, I confirmed he was finally free.
“Yes, dear, you can go on in.”
I knocked and turned the knob to let myself in at the same time. “Hi, Frank.”
“Now isn't a good time, Bennett.” He grumbled without looking up from his work. “I'm very busy.”
“That's funny, because Gloria said you were available.” I smiled, allowing a moment of nostalgia as I realized I would miss this daily banter. Frank could put on his belligerent act all he wanted, but I knew inside lurked the heart of a bunny rabbit.
“Well, she was wrong. I'm busy. What do you want?”
Okay, maybe he wasn't a bunny rabbit. More like a grumpy teddy bear.
“I'm serious, Bennett.” Frank glared at me over the top of his glasses. “What the hell do you want?”
Maybe I wouldn't miss the belligerent act all that much.
Ignoring the tone, I sat in his visitor's chair, surprised to see that it was clear of papers for once. “I'll get right to the point. I've been thinking about our talk a few months ago when I told you that I wanted to be a partner. The thing is, I've realized that being a partner in a law firm is very important to me.”
Frank sighed and pushed his chair away from his desk. “Is this about that stupid list you made? Because, Bennett, I've got to tell you…”
“It's not about the stupid list!” I blurted. Realizing I had just insulted my own self-improvement plan, I sighed deeply and tried again. “I mean, it's not about the list. Which isn't stupid. But, it's not about that anyway. The list. Stupid or not, I mean. It's not about that.”
Oh, god. I had apparently lost the ability to speak in well-constructed sentences. I listened to myself talk while a small part of my brain screamed, “Would you shut up already!?”
After an eternity, the latter side of my brain finally seemed to take control and my mouth stopped moving. Unfortunately, it wasn't soon enough because Frank was looking at me as if I'd lost my mind.
I sighed and decided to just cut to the chase and end the torture for the both of us. I handed him the envelope and said, “It doesn't matter how or why I made this decision, but I have. Making partner means more to me than just checking an item off a list. It means helping to manage the firm and the direction it takes. I want to feel a real sense of ownership in its accomplishments and its failures.”
I was surprised to find that finally – perhaps for the first time since I'd begun working for him – I had this imposing man's full attention. He was holding my letter, but all of his focus was on me and my words. “Frank, you became a lawyer because you needed the autonomy that being a cop couldn't offer you. I understand that, so I want you to understand this. I need to know that my career is on a course that I am helping to steer. I don't want to just be along for the ride for the next fifty years.”
Frank waited a moment, perhaps to make sure I was done before he stated. “Well then, since I've already told you I don't want a partner, I guess we're at an impasse.”
“No, we're not.”
I took a deep breath and plunged in. “I spoke with Norman Clark at Richardson, Clark and Carbasco. My friend Claire works there and it turns out they are looking for an experienced attorney. Norman offered me a position as a senior associate. He's willing to take my time working here into consideration which means I'll be up for partner in two years.”
Fran
k nodded, the look on his face unreadable. He gestured to the envelope he still held. “So then, this is…?”
“My letter of resignation.”
A silent beat passed between us before I continued, “I told Norman that I wanted to give you a month's notice. I'll tie up all of the loose ends on my cases and stay around to help you interview my replacement. Morgan has been putting in full-time hours since he graduated last month and I know you're planning to offer him a permanent job as soon as he takes the bar exam. That should take some of the pressure off in the short run.”
Frank tapped the letter thoughtfully against his desk. “That's all very interesting information, Bennett, but I have to remind you that the first rule of poker is don't bet more than you can afford to lose. That goes for job negotiations, too. Don't make an idle threat that you're not willing to back up.”
If I hadn't been expecting that response, it might have hurt my feelings. Instead, I was prepared for Frank to perceive that the entire conversation was a bluff – an attempt to force him into making me a partner. I knew it would be his reaction, because I also knew it was the play Frank would have made in my place.
“This isn't a threat or a negotiation. You told me what you could offer me and after a great deal of thoughtful consideration I decided it wasn't enough.”
My boss just tapped the letter against the desk.
I waited, but still he said nothing. Unable to bear the silence any longer, I rushed in to fill it with pointless babble. “Look, Frank. I'm never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you've taught me. This job has given me the most amazing experience, and I can't tell you how much it has meant to me. I can't begin to tell you how much you have meant to me.”
Then, to my shock and absolute horror, I felt my eyes begin to well with tears.
It was the threat of tears that finally broke through Frank's stoic exterior. He reached to the credenza behind him and threw a box of Kleenex at me. “Oh, will you stop that before you embarrass yourself? You're not going anywhere.”
Next Year I'll be Perfect Page 19