My Greatest Mistake

by T Gephart

  He was right about that, and I’d rather hand back my license to practice than be shackled to a single client. It wasn’t even about the money anymore, the zeros that once got me excited, not having the same appeal.

  “They offered, I declined,” I confirmed, assuming he’d find out the truth anyway. “Damien in? Or do you want us to wait until nine-thirty like we’d planned?”

  Adrian stood up, his carefree smile all but disappearing. “You’re worrying me, Archer. Something happen to your family while you were back?”

  Ha! Little did he know I hadn’t even seen my folks. They didn’t even know I was in New York, and were probably going to be a little pissed I didn’t at least call. But I’d deal with the wrath that was the Archer brood later, especially since I was planning on seeing a lot more of them in the next few days.

  “Nope, family are all good.”

  Adrian nodded, tipping his head to the door. “Well, then let’s go get this over with. Damien is already in his office and my instincts tell me you have something important to get off your chest. I’m not big on surprises, Archer, I hope you remembered that.”

  For once, since I’d joined the ranks of Locke and Collins, I really didn’t much care what they thought. It wasn’t that I was looking to disappoint anyone, but I was going to get what I wanted regardless of what their feelings were.

  Wordlessly, I followed Adrian to the door and down the hall to where the partners had their offices. No point going through it all twice, which was why I waited until we were safely inside Damien’s glass torture chamber—as the associates liked to call it—before I started.

  “Archer.” Damien stood; he was the less jovial of the pair but managed to crack a half-grin. “I thought our meeting wasn’t until later.”

  “It wasn’t, but if you’ve got the time, it’s probably for the best we just get it done now.” My assertiveness didn’t surprise either of them, both used to my cocky, shoot-from-the-hip style.

  “Sure, take a seat. I’m assuming it’s about your upcoming appraisal and potential raise. Good work on New York. I don’t have the patience to deal with those bastards anymore so glad you could get it taken care of so efficiently.”

  “Thanks, but this isn’t about that. At least not directly.” I took the seat Damien gestured to while Adrian took the other beside me. “But it is about my future here at Locke and Collins.”

  Not sure why I’d added the last part since all I’d been intending to do was ask for a vacation. A couple of weeks, three tops, to sort out what I wanted in life. And where my head was at since it was obvious my heart was having some kind of existential crisis.

  “This can’t be about making partner, Archer. I know you’re ambitious, but that would be a ballsy move even for you.” Adrian leaned forward, slightly excited by the prospect. “But you play your cards right, and that seat will open up soon enough.”

  “I don’t want it.” It was out of my mouth before I’d even processed the words, the two men just as stunned as I was. I laughed, realizing that regardless of what I’d intended to say, my mouth was going rogue, so I might as well just go with it.

  Alrighty, then.

  “I’m tendering my resignation. Happy to give you whatever notice you need, or if you’d prefer, I can terminate immediately. I’ll let you decide.” Honestly I didn’t give a shit, knowing they didn’t like attorneys hanging around once they’d decided they were on the way out. They’d rather be short staffed, cutting people loose and making it look like the change in personnel was their decision than risk showing any sign of weakness. And I was prepared for that, happy even to be told to go pack up my desk and clear out.

  “What?” Adrian choked out, the old guy looking like he might have a heart attack. “I thought you said you declined their offer.”

  “I have. This isn’t about New York.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t about a job offer I’d received.

  “I’ll remind you about your non-compete, Archer,” Damien warned, clearly not pleased with my morning news. “And if this is about leverage, I’m not going to be extorted.”

  “It’s not about leverage or extortion, or a job offer that I’ve received. And the non-compete only pertains to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and I’m not planning on practicing here.”

  Huh, more interesting news I was learning about my apparent plans.

  “You’re making a mistake, Archer. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s the wrong move. You’ve got your next five years mapped out here. The kind of opportunity most men would kill for.” This time it was Adrian, the man who’d not only recruited me but had been my mentor.

  “Yeah, but it’s my mistake to make. And for better or worse, it’s one I intend to.” Not sure when I’d decided I was done, especially since as far as Zara was concerned, shit was in limbo. She hadn’t given me any indication she wanted me to go back to New York or if she was even interested in pursuing a relationship. Not some bullshit one-to-two-week fling, but a real relationship, where we both stopped pretending like we weren’t meant to be together.

  “Who? Who’s made the offer?” Damien asked, not buying that I didn’t have something else waiting in the wings.

  And to be fair, there weren’t too many attorneys who’d pull the pin without a backup plan. Even if it were only a lead, you’d expect there to be something. Which is what I’d originally intended when I’d sent the email. Give them notice of my intention to resign, and look for something else. But instead I decided to go off-script, screwing common sense and logic, and doing it all without a safety net.

  “No offer. And you should know me well enough to know I wouldn’t lie to you. I respect you both too much. But my mind is made up. So, I can hang around for a week or two, while you find someone else, or I can leave now. There’s no hard feelings, gentlemen, I know it’s just business. I’ll leave you two to discuss.”

  My ass lifted from the chair and for the first time in months, I felt lighter. There was a chance I was going be spending the next few weeks canvassing every law firm in New York just looking for an in while I drained my savings. Manhattan rent was going to be brutal. But I’d never been known for being cautious. And it was time I started playing by those rules in my personal life as well as my professional.

  “Lincoln. Is there anything we can do to make you reconsider?” Adrien grabbed my arm, giving it one last effort to change my mind. “We’re willing to work with you, find a happy medium to get you what you want and what is best for the firm.”

  I shook my head, knowing there was nothing they could offer me. The one thing that I wanted—even though I wasn’t sure it was something I could have—was in New York. And if I ever wanted to give myself a chance of happiness, I was going to have to take it.

  “Nope. Nothing. But I genuinely appreciate the opportunity. If things were different,” if I hadn’t met her, if I hadn’t seen how different it could be, “I wouldn’t be leaving.”

  And before either of them could say anything more, I left Damien’s office.

  There were a lot of calls I needed to make, and I wasn’t sure which one was going to come first. My parents were the obvious choice, both of them probably elated they might get to see more of me soon. But as much as I loved them, they weren’t who I wanted to talk to. What I didn’t know was, did she want to talk to me.

  Zara

  “Zara, stop hovering.”

  I’d spent every spare moment at my mother’s bedside, making sure she was taking her pain meds and her recovery was on course. Her attacker had already been apprehended, but I didn’t feel any better about things.

  “I’m positive you have better things to do than be my nurse.”

  Despite her protests, I wasn’t leaving. I had asked for and received a few days of personal time from work and didn’t have anywhere else to be. And while I hated hospitals and everything that went with them, I wasn’t leaving until they pushed me out the door.

  “Actually, my schedule is wide open.
Don’t have anything else to do, so guess you’re stuck with me.”

  Belle and I were taking turns, even though both my mother and father assured us we didn’t have to. Belle was between auditions and loved having a captive audience; the nurses and doctors utterly adored her and her quirky monologues. I wasn’t as entertaining, my effort to liven things up consisting of reading her gossip from trashy magazines and playing her old school jazz. I wished my motives had been purely altruistic, but as much as I loved my mother, I was still avoiding the situation with Lincoln.

  He’d left—as he was always going to do—but I’d slammed the door. Every attempt he’d made since I’d left the hotel had been met with what I’m sure he perceived as indifference. What it actually was, was fear. I had no idea how to try and make it work, worried we wouldn’t survive a long-distance relationship and which one of us would ultimately need to make the sacrifice. I wanted to believe love would conquer all, but I knew different. And when our last interaction had been so cold—again, I completely shared blame in that—I felt that maybe it was better to just let things cool off. I didn’t want to have feelings for him, didn’t want for him to be the first and the last thoughts I had every morning and every night, but ultimately it’s not always about what you want. I was a realist, I should’ve known that.

  “Fine, then tell me who’s dating who.” She pointed to the stack of paparazzi-filled rags I’d collected from the gift shop on my way in. “I really hope Hanna is still with her co-star, Matt. I know their love affair is probably just from spending so much time on set together, but they have real chemistry. You can tell when he looks at her, he is totally smitten, and I don’t believe for a second that the feeling isn’t mutual.”

  “Uhhhhhh,” I sighed, wishing we could be discussing something other than love and affection. Surely celebrities were doing things other than falling in love and dating. “Fine, let’s see if she’s confessed her undying love for Matt or if she’s run off with the pool boy.”

  With as much enthusiasm as I could muster, I grabbed the first magazine off the stack. I hadn’t told my parents about Lincoln and our short-lived romance, so Mom assumed my despondence was my usual lack of excitement when it came to fairy-tale love stories. It was too hard to admit the truth to her, that I’d finally found someone who was perfect in every way and it just hadn’t worked out.

  My fingers flicked through the glossy pages while I sipped my coffee. It was hospital cafeteria coffee and incredibly bad, but somehow I figured that was what I deserved. “Are we ready?” I asked, finding the page with the goods. “I feel like we should have some dramatic music to lead us in.”

  My mother chuckled, appreciating my effort to be more entertaining—Belle would’ve belted out a rendition of some showtune for sure—as my eyes floated to the page. It was there, looking at celebrities, that I spotted a photo of . . .well, me.

  “Shiiiiiiit,” I coughed, my eyes opening and closing to be sure I was seeing it correctly. Nope, it wasn’t some secret twin or mysterious doppelgänger who was snapped chatting to Edwin Carlisle at the recent gala he attended, it was yours truly. I hadn’t even seen anyone take our photo, our interaction barely long enough to classify as a conversation. But regardless of that, and the fact I’d gone home with Lincoln, I was listed as the mystery date of Mr. Edwin Carlisle, one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

  Great.

  Just, fucking great.

  “What sweetie?” my mom asked, her head lifting to try and see the page. “Did they break up? Is it confirmed? If neither of them are the source, I won’t believe it.”

  Yeah, my biggest problem was no longer Hanna and her co-star Matt, but being linked to someone who I’d spent maybe ten minutes with and who wasn’t the guy I was in love with. And that right there was why I didn’t read magazines, preferring the Wall Street Journal and The Atlantic.

  “Mom, I just need to step out for a moment and make a call.” I grabbed the magazine and shoved it under my arm. I had no idea if any of the others had similar incriminating evidence, but I needed to get some facts straight before I explained to my mother why With You magazine thought I was dating a millionaire.

  She looked puzzled but thankfully didn’t argue, letting me shuffle out to the hall with my phone, magazine and handbag like I was looking to make a quick escape. Once in the hall I dug through my purse for the business card I thought I’d never use, dialing the number for Edwin Carlisle, a man, who for some reason, had lately become the bane of my existence.

  I wasn’t sure if he’d seen the article or even cared, no doubt going to think I was being hysterical and ridiculous for even bringing it up. It was too late to change my mind, the call connecting after the third ring. “Carlisle,” he answered, his tone bored and impersonal.

  “Hi, Edwin. It’s Zara Mathews. We met at the gala. Last weekend.” I shook my head, disappointed by my staccato greeting.

  “Ahhhh, Zara.” His voice instantly warmed. “How lovely to hear from you. I’m so glad you called. I was really hoping you would. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  Great, because on top of our fictional relationship the press was trying to pedal, I had to worry about him getting the wrong idea.

  “Yeah, about that. This is sort of awkward to mention but did you happen to notice any stories about us recently?” I hedged, hoping it made me sound less pathetic. “You know, that we were dating.”

  He laughed, my ear filled with the sound. “You mean that photo of us in With You? Yeah, I saw it, you looked gorgeous by the way, red is definitely your color.”

  Oh, so he knew?

  “Well, I think we should issue a statement making it clear that we’re not,” I added, knowing how stupid that sounded. “I’m not sure how they’re able to get away with publishing lies about people, but all we were doing was talking.”

  “Wow, not sure if I’m offended or surprised. Is it really such a terrible thing to be linked to me?” I could hear the smile in his voice, clearly enjoying it. “I knew I liked you, but I hadn’t realized how entertaining you could be. Are you still with that other guy? Because if you’re not, I’d really like the opportunity to have dinner with you since we were robbed of the chance.”

  Not only did he not care about the speculation of his love life, but he was asking me out on a date. I hadn’t even confirmed if Lincoln and I were no longer together, Edwin going in for the kill regardless.

  “I’m not sure dinner would be a good idea since it would probably just feed the tabloids,” I reasoned, not willing to admit I was no longer with Lincoln.

  “Oh, so you aren’t together.” Edwin read between the lines. “What if I can promise there will be no cameras or reporters? Then will you have dinner with me?”

  I rolled my eyes, wondering if women thought his insistence was charming. I’m sure he wasn’t turned down a lot, probably assuming I was playing hard to get so I didn’t seem easy. But no, it wasn’t an act, my desire to have dinner with him truly being low.

  “That won’t change my answer. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, and most women probably love your attention, but I’m not one of them.” I was careful not to be unnecessarily cruel. After all, he’d been a victim of the gossip too, and it wasn’t like he’d clubbed me over the head and dragged me into a cave. He’d been mostly respectful.

  He sighed loudly, blowing out a long breath. “To be honest, I sort of enjoy that you’re not like one of them. You really captured my attention, Zara. That’s the only reason why I went along with Delia’s stupid idea.”

  “What?” I gasped, fairly sure I was going to dislike Madame Delia more than I already did. “What was her idea?”

  “I casually mentioned that I’d been interested in you, and she may have hinted to one of the reporters we were dating. You know the old adage, visualize it and it will happen. Besides, they were going to link me to someone anyway, might as well be someone I liked.”

  It felt like my head was going to explode. Not only had his siste
r-in-law had me chasing fantasy predictions from when I was a teenager, but she also saw fit to play the puppeteer in real life as well. What the hell was wrong with her? And why was she constantly messing with my life.

  “You know, Edwin, I’ll agree to dinner on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “You invite Delia. Seems fitting since she’s the one who orchestrated the article. And no photographers.”

  I was so mad but needed closure, once and for all, and to confront Delia for the mess she’d caused. Granted, it wasn’t entirely her fault, but I was looking for someone to blame and I couldn’t find it in my heart to be angry at Lincoln. I was already tired at beating myself up so could use a new target, and deep down I was curious to see her face when I confronted her with her bullshit.

  “Done,” he agreed without any further negotiations. “Friday night at six, suit you?”

  “She’ll be there?” I asked, reaffirming that our “dinner” came with stipulations. “And if I see one photographer, I bail.”

  “She will. And no press. I promise.”

  I still wasn’t sure I was making the right call, but I was already committed. And while I was positive nothing good would come of dinner with Edwin, it would be one night where I wouldn’t be sitting at home, agonizing over whether to call Lincoln.

  “Fine, I’ll see you then. Send me the details.” I was already regretting it. “And just so there’s no mistake, Edwin, this isn’t a date.”

  “Understood. Not a date. Just two friends having dinner.”

  Funny how my last dinner with Lincoln was supposed to be exactly that, not that it had worked out that way. Not that I’d be making the same mistake twice, in no way interested in anything romantic with Edwin. Even if I couldn’t have Lincoln.

  “Goodbye, Edwin.”