New York, Actually

by Sarah Morgan

“Did he tell you that? Because from what you’ve told me he left that part pretty much entirely up to you.”

  “And because I was so wrapped up in the children, I didn’t give him the attention he deserved.”

  Daniel sat down behind his desk and breathed deeply, banking down the anger. Something was happening to him and he didn’t like it. “They’re children, Elisa, and he is supposed to be the adult. Parenting should be a shared thing. I know you’re scared and I understand that staying together can seem like the easy option, at least in the short term. Unraveling a marriage, particularly when there are children involved, is daunting to say the least. But—”

  “Oh, we’re not doing this because it’s the easy option, we’re doing it because of the children.”

  “It was because of them you originally wanted a divorce.”

  “But children are always better off with two parents, don’t you agree?”

  He thought of Harriet, hiding under the table with her eyes squeezed shut and her hands over her ears. “I don’t agree.” He kept his face expressionless. “My personal opinion is that children are better off being raised in a calm, positive environment with one parent than an explosive environment with two.” Damn. Never before had he expressed his personal feelings in front of a client.

  “But then you’re a divorce lawyer.” Fortunately Elisa didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong. “I wouldn’t exactly expect you to be a supporter of reconciliation. You need to justify your billing hours and the more we string this out, the higher your bill.”

  Daniel felt a flash of annoyance. “I’m no saint, Elisa, but I can assure you that my advice comes from a desire to do the best for you and the children, not from a need to add hours to my billings. And my advice in this case is don’t do it. You first came to me because your daughter had started wetting the bed and was displaying behavioral problems, and your son’s asthma was getting progressively worse. You were convinced that the atmosphere in the house was responsible.”

  “And I was partly to blame for that. I was very upset about the affairs and I didn’t do a good job of hiding my feelings.”

  “He was the one who had the affairs.” Daniel reminded himself that his job was to offer legal advice, not marital advice. Normally he had no problem with that, but today—

  “Is something wrong? Are you sick?” Elisa was peering at him closely. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

  “I’m not sick.” With an effort, he hauled his emotions back inside. “Don’t rush into anything. For the time being continue to live separately and give yourself breathing room.”

  “He wants us to renew our vows and I want to do that as soon as possible in case he changes his mind. This time we both really want this to work. And it’s funny that we paid a ton of money on couples’ therapy, and in the end the best advice we got was free.”

  Daniel was suddenly alert. “Somebody else has been giving you advice?”

  “Yes. I never thought I’d thank another woman for giving me my husband back, but if I ever meet Aggie, I’ll hug her.”

  “Aggie? Are you saying Henry has been having another affair since you separated?”

  “No! I’m talking about the Aggie. The one who’s everywhere. She has a great blog, Ask a Girl. Anyway, Henry was so confused about what was happening he wrote to her, and she pointed out that as we had children it was worth trying extra hard. Surely you’ve heard of her. She knows everything about relationships. How to fix your marriage, or choose the perfect gift, or whatever. She has millions of followers on social media.”

  “You’re saying Henry is taking advice from a blogger? Some sort of advice columnist?” Daniel tried and failed to hide his incredulity. “That’s what this is about? What did you say her name was?”

  “Aggie.”

  “Aggie what? Aggie Interference. Aggie-doesn’t-know-what-the-hell-she’s-talking-about?” He saw the first flicker of doubt and misery in Elisa’s eyes and felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, Elisa. But I don’t want you to make a mistake. If you’re going to do this, I want to be sure it’s what you want and a stranger who has never met you cannot help with that decision, no matter how many followers she has on social media.”

  “But sometimes an impartial observer can see things more clearly.”

  “We have a team of qualified people here who can—”

  “No. And Aggie does know what she’s talking about. I don’t think she has a last name. But she’s a doctor.”

  “Everyone has a last name. If they don’t reveal it there’s usually a reason.” And he doubted Aggie was a “doctor” of anything, except maybe deception. “All I’m suggesting is that you should think twice about taking advice from someone who isn’t qualified to handle the issues you’re dealing with.”

  “Aggie is good. You are so suspicious.”

  “That’s my job. I’m paid to be suspicious. I’m asking the questions you should be asking.” Daniel scribbled the name on his pad. In his experience people who didn’t give their last names were hiding something. Right now “Aggie” had better be hiding herself because he was going to track her down and tell her what he thought of her advice. And it wasn’t going to be a polite conversation.

  The thought of Elisa and Henry back together under the same roof made his whole body chill. Elisa would shrink to half the person she was, and as for the children…

  He kept thinking of Harriet, and that awful night at the school when their father had unexpectedly shown up in the audience. Even now he couldn’t think about it without shuddering.

  Elisa stood up. “Daniel, you’re the best divorce lawyer in Manhattan and you’ve been great, but I don’t need a divorce lawyer anymore because I’m not getting divorced. What Aggie said struck a chord with us. She told us to think of the life we’ve created together. Our home. Our friends. Our children.”

  “Didn’t he refer to them as baggage?”

  She flushed. “He’d had a few drinks. We’ve both realized we should be putting the children first.”

  She left the room and Daniel stayed at his desk, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped his office on two sides. From his desk he could see the Empire State Building, and farther in the distance the gleam of glass and steel of One World Trade Center.

  Normally the view soothed him, but not today.

  Who was this Aggie, that she’d tell a dysfunctional family to stay together? How could she make such an important judgment based only on a letter? And whatever letter or email Henry had written, Daniel was sure he wouldn’t have passed on the deep trauma suffered by his children as a result of their marriage.

  He still couldn’t believe Elisa was willing to overlook everything that had happened.

  And he couldn’t understand why everything today was affecting him so deeply.

  Cursing, he pushed back from his desk and stood up.

  His office was sleek and uncluttered, like the rest of his life.

  It was the way he preferred it. He preferred to sail through life with neither anchor nor baggage. That way if he crashed his ship on the rocks, he wouldn’t take those around him down with him.

  How would he have turned out if his childhood had been different? Would he have chosen to be a lawyer? Or would he have taken a different, gentler path?

  The door to his office opened and Marsha walked in with some files and a mug of coffee.

  “I thought you might need this. Looking at your face, I’m guessing I was right.”

  “I feel as if I spend my entire day fighting. Why wasn’t I a boxer or an MMA fighter? It might have been cleaner.”

  “You love fighting. You get that look about you. Clenched jaw. Dangerous ‘don’t mess with me’ glint in your eyes. I assume Elisa didn’t say anything you were pleased to hear.”

  “My eyes glint? Why have you never told me this before?”

  “Because when they glint I’m mostly too scared to open my mouth in your company, and when they stop glinting I forget to mentio
n it. The flowers arrived and they’re beautiful, thank you. Now tell me why you’re stressed.”

  “I’m never stressed. Only calm, and slightly less calm.” Giving up the pretense, he rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the tension. “The ability of the human being to screw up its own life never ceases to amaze me.”

  “I hate to be the one to point this out, but that’s the reason this is a busy and thriving law firm. If we all got it right, you’d be out of a job.” She set the files down on his desk. “These are for you. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s Audrey’s birthday today, too. They’re in the kitchen eating cake. If you have a minute, I know it would mean a lot if you could join them. I don’t want to contemplate what our working day would be like without Audrey, and Max is driving her insane. A few words from you would be compensation.”

  Audrey was one of the paralegals. She’d been with the firm for two years and had proved herself indispensable after five minutes.

  “Thanks for the reminder. And I’ll speak to Max.” Pushing aside thoughts of Elisa and what a reconciliation would mean for the children, Daniel checked the documents and signed. “Have you ever heard of someone called Aggie?”

  “The relationship expert?”

  “How is it that everyone knows this woman except me?”

  “Are you in the habit of asking for advice on relationships?”

  “Why would I ask for advice on relationships? I’ve seen every permutation of relationship known to man. And woman.”

  “And yet you’re single.”

  “Which is why I’m single. So tell me what you know about Aggie.”

  Marsha smiled. “She’s wonderful. I bought her book.”

  “She’s written a book?”

  “Mate for Life. You didn’t see it? It was at the top of all the bestseller lists and in every bookstore.”

  “I shop online, a consequence of never leaving my office during store opening hours.”

  “It was online, too. Excellent book. She’s wise and sensible.”

  “Really? Because she told Elisa and Henry they should get back together for the sake of the children. I don’t see anything wise or sensible about that.”

  Marsha pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be better for the children.”

  “Are you kidding? Elisa and Henry loathe each other. Their children will be permanently scarred. Why people think that is the best outcome completely escapes me.” Intercepting the curious look in Marsha’s face, Daniel inhaled slowly and gestured to his laptop. “Find me something she has written. I need to know more about her.”

  “That should be easy.” Marsha walked around his desk. “You could start by reading the letter Max wrote to her.”

  “He wrote to her?” Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “As a joke, I assume?”

  “Why would you assume that? We both know Max needs serious help in the relationship department. Remember the coffee machine he bought his girlfriend as a gift?”

  “Call me insensitive, but my interest in my team’s personal life only extends to serious life events, not gift choices.”

  “This was serious.” Marsha clicked on a link. “He bought her a coffee machine. She sold it on eBay. They broke up.”

  Daniel frowned. “Why did she sell it? Wrong brand?”

  “She doesn’t drink coffee.”

  Daniel started to laugh. “And he had to write to ask what he’d done wrong?”

  “This is Max we’re talking about, so yes. He said that a coffee machine made him happy, and that she should be happy that he was happy. She didn’t see it that way. How he ever passed the bar I will never know.”

  “As you say, he’s a brilliant lawyer and ferociously bright.”

  “Not when it comes to women. Here.” She scrolled down. “Read. Not that you need any help with relationships.”

  Ask a Girl.

  The words were picked out in a bold blue.

  Daniel frowned. “‘Ask a Girl’ what? What sort of things do people ask?”

  “Anything. Everything. Her advice is honest and direct. She has a huge following.”

  “So she really knows how to milk it.”

  “She’s a businesswoman. She has a gift, and knowledge, and she uses it. It’s not like you to deride a woman for being smart.”

  “I’m not deriding her for being smart. I’m deriding her for taking advantage of the vulnerable and giving dangerous advice.”

  “That’s your opinion, Daniel. And although plenty of folks pay squillions of dollars an hour to hear your opinion, it doesn’t mean you’re always right on everything.”

  “I’m right on this.”

  “Her column is good. Interesting. I read it every week. We all do.”

  “All?”

  “All of the women here, and even some of the men. The blog is only part of it. She answers questions, and I think she offers one-to-one relationship counseling over the phone.”

  Daniel scrolled through the pages of her website. “There’s no photo. What does she look like?”

  “She never uses a photo. Just the heart logo.”

  “So she doesn’t have a last name, and she won’t show her face. Anyone who won’t show their face must have a reason. Maybe she’s not a person. Maybe she’s a bunch of computer tech guys laughing their heads off.”

  “No way would the advice she gives ever have been written by a guy.”

  “That’s sexist.”

  “It’s true,” she said drily. “Read for yourself.”

  He read.

  Dear Aggie, there’s a woman at work who is a goddess. I’m an ordinary guy, nothing special. How can a man like me ever attract the attention of someone like her? Am I wasting my time? Yours, Underconfident.

  Daniel glanced up in disbelief. “This is a joke, yes?”

  “It’s real.”

  “And does she give an answer? Mine would be, yes, you’re wasting your time. Grow a spine.”

  “Which is why you’re not the one answering the question. Not that I expect you to understand, but some men have trouble approaching women. They don’t all have your success rate.”

  Daniel thought about the woman in the park. His success rate had taken a serious tumble. “Does she reply?”

  “Scroll down. Her reply is underneath. And people are allowed to post their advice, too. It’s a community.”

  “A community of people who don’t know what they’re talking about. Kill me now. Dear Underconfident—” his gaze flicked briefly to Marsha “—can you believe someone actually called himself that?”

  “I think it’s adorably honest.”

  “It’s prophetic. You are what you think you are.” He read on. “Dear Underconfident, everyone is special in their own way—seriously? Can you get me a bucket? I’m feeling ill.”

  “Just because you’re not the sentimental type, doesn’t mean it’s rubbish. Not everyone is afraid of emotion.”

  “Just because I have full control over my emotions, doesn’t mean I’m afraid. But I do have a healthy respect for the damage emotion can cause. In relationships, emotion drives bad decisions.” His voice shook and Marsha stared at him as if he’d grown horns and wings.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She spoke cautiously. “Is there something personal going on here I should know about?”

  “No.”

  “We’ve worked together for five years and I’m old enough to be your mother. Despite your claim to being heartless, we both know you’re not. You helped me when I was at my lowest point and I hope you know you can always talk to me in confidence.”

  “There’s nothing I need to talk about. And you are nothing like my mother.” Realizing he’d said too much, Daniel dragged his hand over the back of his neck and hauled his feelings back inside. He didn’t want to think about his mother. He’d long since come to terms with what had happened. He’d been a kid, for goodness’ sake. He’d done what he could. And he’d helped numerous women since then. More than he could coun
t. “Emotion is what brings people streaming into my office. If more people engaged their brains instead of their hormones, the divorce rate would be lower.”

  “And you wouldn’t be earning millions.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but the money has always been secondary.” Trying to distract himself, he scanned a few more questions on the site, fascinated and appalled. “Real-life people actually write in asking her this stuff? They can’t figure it out for themselves?” He tried to imagine what sort of person would be comfortable exposing such intimate, private secrets in such a public forum.

  Marsha looked amused. “Have you ever asked advice about women?”

  “I already know everything I need to know about women, including the fact that this woman is exploiting people who are emotionally vulnerable.” Daniel flipped the screen shut and caught a glimpse of Marsha’s expression. “What?”

  “Please tell me you see the irony of that. You’re the divorce attorney everyone hopes their spouse won’t hire.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It could be argued that you also charge people when they’re at their most vulnerable. You can’t blame her for trying to fix something instead of breaking it.”

  “I’ve never broken anything that could be fixed. And trying to fix Henry and Elisa is like trying to glue together a shattered vase with nothing but spit and hope.” The muscles of his shoulders ached with tension. He wished he were back in Central Park watching the sun spill through the blossoms and Molly and Valentine pounding their way along the paths.

  “Maybe her advice is sound,” Marsha said. “Maybe it’s something to celebrate. They have two young children, Daniel.”

  “I can never understand why people seem to think that growing up with unhappy parents is better than growing up with a happy single parent.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t have children.”

  But he had two younger sisters. He knew a lot more on that topic than Marsha probably imagined.

  “If they get back together they’ll be divorced in a year.”

  “I hope you’re wrong. But if you’re not, then at least they will have made that decision themselves and they won’t be blaming their lawyers.”