by Alice Gaines
“It’s for a few more days, and then I’ll be back at work at the firm. And Dad…” She finally got something like a smile on her face. “Jim Brandenburg put me on a really big case.”
She crinkled up her forehead. “Berkshire. No, you wouldn’t have heard of it unless—”
Her father had clearly interrupted her in the middle of her explanation about the case, probably expounding on a subject he knew nothing about. And if he was at the top of his game, he’d insert a couple of subtle put-downs in there, too.
“It could be really big. Maybe Supreme Court.” She rubbed her forehead the way she did when she was getting a headache. She probably was. “No, I wouldn’t be arguing before the Court. The lead attorney would.”
She listened a little bit more, sinking onto the seat next to Grant. “Sure, put Mom on.”
When she put her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, Grant got up to give her shoulders a massage. She put a hand over his to thank him.
“Hi, Mom,” she said after a few seconds. “Yes, I’m with Grant.”
“Tell your mom I said hi,” he said.
“Grant says hi.” More silence at this end. “It wasn’t all Grant’s fault. It takes two to divorce.”
That was a bit of news. He wasn’t the bad guy, after all. Or at least, not the only bad guy.
“I’m good,” Katy said. “Really good. I got a promotion at work. Yeah, nice. It’s very nice.
“Okay,” Katy said. “You go on with Dad. Yup, love you, too.”
She sighed as she put the phone down. “You didn’t have to answer that call. I would have called my dad back.”
“And miss the pleasure of talking to the Robert T. Rose Professor of Philosophy?”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“What other way should I be?” he said. “He’s the one who planted the idea in your head that I’m a dumb jock.”
“How many times do I have to apologize for saying that?”
There was no answer for that just as he’d never apologize enough for telling her she wouldn’t have her beloved job without him. He sat back down. “He wasn’t impressed by you being on that case, was he?”
She didn’t answer for a few seconds. “He has high expectations for me. That’s a good thing.”
“You’ll never live up to them. No one will ever meet his standards.”
She shook her head. “The two of you just don’t get along.”
“Listen, Katy…”
She got the look on her face that said she’d listen but she wasn’t going to like hearing what he had to say. She probably wouldn’t.
“No one can ever live up to his lofty standards,” Grant said. “If they did, they’d be his equal, and he couldn’t tolerate that.”
“Thanks, Dr. Freud. Maybe you should stick to football.”
“I see you inherited his talent for put-downs,” Grant said.
She put her hands in the air. “I’m not going to fight with you.”
This was it—the impasse. One of them would have to leave because they’d never managed to settle these questions—and others—peacefully in the past. So he got up. “Fine. I’m going to take a walk on the beach. At least order yourself something to eat.”
She didn’t answer, but then, what would she have said? He went to the door leading to the deck, hesitating for just a few seconds in case she called him back.
It was a perfect replay of their breakup. He’d walked out of the condo that night, and she’d let him do it. She’d crushed his hopes of a life and family together. No, they’d crushed their own hopes and each other’s. Love alone couldn’t hold them together, it seemed. They wanted different things, and that made them butt heads. He should have realized the seashore and sex wouldn’t change that reality.
He turned back to her, still hoping, like an idiot, that she’d say something to fix this screwed-up situation. When she didn’t, he went outside and sat on the step to remove his shoes and socks. Then he rolled up the legs of his slacks.
He ought to be walking with her or splashing in the waves with her. They ought to be laughing together. Making love. Remembering how they’d fallen for each other in college. They ought to be making plans for their future. Instead, this whole new relationship—whatever it was—had fallen to pieces, the same way their marriage had. He’d known they’d have to say goodbye at some point, but he hadn’t reckoned on it happening in this place, where he’d only wanted to make her happy. They hadn’t separated physically yet, but they’d slammed an emotional door between them.
He’d been right—she was going to break his heart all over again. And part of him realized she already had.
…
As the bus approached Katy’s condo building, the tension in her stomach twisted itself into a knot. After he’d left the cottage the night before, she’d gone back to work…or tried to. Then he’d fallen asleep on the couch with the television on. She’d expected him to join her in bed later, but he hadn’t. By the time she’d gotten up, he’d been showered, dressed, and ready to head back to the city.
And now, here they were—the end of the tour. In another minute, her time with Grant would end. But she didn’t want to be surrounded by people when it did.
She got out her phone and sent Grant a text.
Come inside for a minute?
With any luck, he wouldn’t see that as an invitation for sex. Not that she’d mind having sex with him again. She’d be celibate for the next several months at least. But asking now would seem like begging.
Of course, he’d have to actually see the text to get her message. So she elbowed him. “Check your phone.”
“Huh?” He got his phone out of the pocket of his shirt and looked at the screen. Then he started a text back.
Not a good idea.
Please, she texted back. I don’t want to say goodbye on a bus.
He didn’t look at her but stared at his phone for a bit. Then he sent another text.
Come to my place. I’ll send you home in a cab.
Deal, she texted back.
He got up and went to the front of the bus to talk to the driver. Sure enough, they drove right past her building and headed toward his.
She breathed a little easier but had to face the fact that this was only a temporary reprieve. They’d get to his building, go to his apartment, and she’d end up staring out over the river with absolutely nothing in her head to say to him. He came back and sat down next to her, still gazing straight ahead of him.
“Thank you,” she whispered. In answer, he put his hand over hers.
They arrived at Grant’s building a few minutes later, and the driver unloaded their luggage from the underside of the bus. Neither of them spoke as they took the elevator up to his apartment.
Once inside, he dropped his keys on a small table by the door. “Want a beer?”
She hugged herself, even though the room was pleasantly warm. “No, that’s fine. I just wanted a chance to thank you…for everything. Especially the cottage on the beach.”
Neither of them had gotten any enjoyment out of it, unfortunately, and that had been her fault. She’d either worked or slept, when she wasn’t arguing with Grant. About how much coffee she drank, of all things.
He put his hands on his hips the way he did during a game when the play he’d called hadn’t worked. “What are you going to tell Jim?”
“I’ll say we tried and it didn’t work.” That wasn’t entirely dishonest, even if they had started out to fool him.
“Give him my regards.”
“Will do.” She gave him her best imitation of a smile. “Are you going to tell me about the charity you’re going to work for?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that really necessary?”
“Come on, Grant,” she said. “Can’t we at least be
friends?”
“Yeah, well…it’s ASK-USA. ASK stands for Adopt Special Kids.”
So totally Grant. He loved kids, and it made sense that he’d somehow be involved with them after football. “That sounds perfect for you.”
“I’m going to be their spokesman, starting in the next few months. And…um…once I’m retired, I’m thinking about adopting one or two of the children.”
That revelation knifed through her. He was going to start a family, after all, and he’d do it without her. Ouch. He’d have Christmases and summer vacations, and she wouldn’t be there with him, watching the children grow. This was probably better than imagining him marrying another woman who’d have babies for him, but only by a little. He was going to have a full and happy life—one that she’d play no part in. Her throat tightened, but she managed to say, “You’ll be a wonderful father.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t appear the least bit happy, though. He looked like a man about to lose his best friend. As she was…again.
And now she had to find a way to ask him the question she was dreading, the one she really didn’t want to know the answer for—was this going to be it? Would it really the last time she’d ever see him? “So, are you going cold turkey again?”
Her meaning didn’t seem to register for a few seconds, and then he took a breath and looked away. “It’s for the best.”
Somehow, this had never come up during the divorce. First, there had been so much anger. Then attorneys and paperwork. Their final meeting had even been in front of a judge. Sure, it had hurt, sometimes more than she’d thought she could bear. But somehow, she’d never doubted she’d see him again.
And yet suddenly, cold turkey made all the sense in the world. If she watched his games and interviews, she’d only keep dwelling on what she’d lost. He’d be no more than an image on a screen. Untouchable. It would be so much worse than trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
“Okay.” Her voice came out weird. Brittle somehow. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too.”
She grabbed the handle of her bag and headed toward the doorway.
“Let me walk you out,” he said.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I said I’d put you in a cab, and I will.”
Curse him. Just when she was trying to make a dignified exit, he had to go and muck it up. What if she started crying in the elevator? What if he had trouble hailing a cab and the two of them stood on the sidewalk, trying to avoid each other’s eyes?
Still, he opened the door for her and grabbed her bag. They took the long elevator ride together again, not speaking. Every breath she took hurt, freezing in her lungs. But she kept her head up and her expression stoic. She could do this. She had to do this.
Finally, they crossed the lobby and walked outside to the curb. The moment Grant put his hand up, a yellow cab came along. As Grant put her bag into the trunk, she stopped, her hand resting on the cab’s open door. When he came back to her side, her control slipped, and she couldn’t help glancing up at him. His hazel eyes were wide, registering the same pain that was slicing through her. Before she completely broke down, she managed to go up on tiptoe and plant a kiss on his cheek. Then she got into the cab and closed the door behind her. As it pulled away, she didn’t look back as she finally allowed the tears to fall.
…
A week after leaving Grant—for the last time—Katy had settled back in at the firm. The questions about her and Grant—and that damned video—had died down, and Katy finally fell back into the swing of things. Charles Grey turned out to be an absolute sweetheart to work for. Katy would have kissed Jim Brandenburg for assigning her to work with Charlie, as virtually everyone called him. She kept her small office, and by now every surface was filled with binders of legal proceedings covered with her handwritten notes and stickies. Her paralegal could barely keep it all organized.
And thank heaven for her work. She hardly had time to think about Grant, let alone miss him…except at night, when she finally crawled off to bed. She always had a few minutes then to wonder why he wasn’t with her under the covers.
But now, it was nine o’clock, and she was on her third cup of coffee. Fortunately, the office staff kept a fresh pot brewing for her, and she had her antacids if she overdid it. She was finally getting her arms around the Berkshire case. If it had been a fire, she could claim she had it 50 percent under control. Not completely in her grip yet but manageable.
There was a soft tap on her door, and she glanced up to find Charlie standing there.
“Come on in,” she said, emptying the chair next to her desk of its papers so he could take a seat.
“How’s the work coming?” he asked.
“It’s kind of overwhelming.”
He smiled. “It absolutely is, and if you didn’t find it so, I’d worry about you.”
“The rest of the team don’t seem to be having any trouble.”
“You mean your young colleagues?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Puffery.” Charlie laughed. “They’re overwhelmed, too, but they hide it. The last young attorney who didn’t fear this place was gone in six months.”
Bless Charlie. He always said the right thing. And he gave her a fatherly smile, or at least, the kind of smile she’d wished to see on her father’s face. Maybe Grant hadn’t been so far off about her dad.
Charlie gazed around at all her collected documents. “Quite a display. Most attorneys keep things on their computers these days.”
“It’s easier to make notes by hand and mark them with Post-it notes,” she said. “And my paralegal keeps everything organized so I can find what I want.”
“I see.” He looked impressed, maybe because he, too, was old school and worked with a similar system. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“The first day you joined the team, you’d already read all the depositions and most of the pleadings,” he said. “How?”
The question didn’t make much sense. “I started reading and kept going.”
“That’s an incredible amount of work for the short amount of time you had.”
She shrugged. “It needed to be done.”
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and sat for a few moments, thinking. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid I may be overstepping myself here, but…”
Her stomach tensed as she waited for what he wanted to tell her. No matter what it was, Charlie wouldn’t be cruel.
“I believe the saying is that a woman has to be twice as good as a man to be seen half as able,” he said. “I hope you don’t think that’s true with me.”
What did she say to that? She couldn’t accuse him of sexism. “I have no reason to think so.”
He hesitated again. “I’m going to be perfectly frank with you, Katy. I don’t think you realize your own value.”
What was the expression the Aussies used—gobsmacked? Her jaw hung open before she had the good sense to close her mouth.
“Self-confidence is very important for an attorney, especially if she’s going to get into trial work.” He smiled again. “You don’t seem to realize that you were thrust into a complex case that’s been going on for months, and in a short amount of time, you’ve gotten enough of a handle on it to make a real contribution.”
Wow. If she could, she’d print that out and get his notarized signature on it. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be intimidated because some of your peers came from more elite schools,” he said. “You met all our criteria and then some, or we wouldn’t have hired you.”
“But Jim…” Damn, how had that slipped out? Her own personal neurosis. The one insecurity that would not leave her alone.
And, of course, Charlie was astute enough to pick up on her slip. He leaned back in his chair. “Jim’s quite a fan of yo
ur ex-husband, isn’t he?”
“A lot of people are.” She tried to sound pretty nonchalant.
“Jim doesn’t make unilateral hiring decisions. All the partners have to agree. His input doesn’t weigh any more heavily than mine,” he said. “And I don’t follow football.”
“Thank you. That’s good to know.”
“Your references were golden.” His smile broadened on the last word. “One of them even included a copy of a research paper you had done so we could see your creativity.”
“He did?” That would have been Professor Plumber, bless him.
“Very impressive. We don’t usually get anything like that.” He paused. “And Jim’s a wily one. He deliberately put you on that dreadful Winthrop case to see what you’d do,” he said. “You shone.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” he said. “Just be a little easier on yourself. We don’t want you going to an early grave.”
“I will.”
“Good.” He got up. “I’m glad we had this little talk.”
Glad hardly described how Katy felt. After Charlie left, she sat at her desk with her hands in her lap as her shoulders eased back to where they belonged. They’d been permanently stationed up around her ears for months. No, more than that. For as long as she could remember.
Grant had had nothing to do with her getting this job. He’d never meant what he’d said, of course. And he’d done his best to convince her it wasn’t true. But how could he do that when she couldn’t believe in herself?
She was good enough, even though she hadn’t gone to Hahvahd. Better than good enough. She was really, really good at her job. She’d shone on the Winthrop case, and she was already making contributions to the oh-so-important Berkshire one. Charles Grey…the Charles Grey…had said so, and he should know.
Suddenly, the constant knot in her chest was gone. She did belong here. She could have as good a career as anyone else in the firm. And she’d won it on her own.
From now on, when her insecurities came back to nibble around the corners of her confidence, she’d remember this moment. She wouldn’t have to constantly worry about when Jim or Charlie or some judge would see the failure she truly was.
