The Cost of Happiness: A Contemporary Romance

by Braden, Magdalen

  Of course, her heart had healed. Hearts always heal. But she’d learned never to like any of Bianca’s presents after that. Meghan would unwrap them, admire them, say thank you. Bianca never noticed that Meghan left them in the original packaging, ready to be returned. A gift was never hers to keep, only Bianca’s to give.

  Meghan stood up. Both Dan and Kassie looked at her, Dan with hope in his eyes, Kassie with apprehension, probably worried that she’d make a scene.

  “I’m sorry, Dan, that I ran out without talking to you. I should have explained. I’m sure it was inconvenient to come to West Philly.” To Kassie, she said, “And I’m sorry I worried you. You did a wonderful job turning me into Cinderella. Too bad an evil witch had to confuse her fairy tales, and show up with a poisoned apple.”

  She smiled at them both.

  “I’m going to bed. Please help yourself to more tea.”

  Dan left Meghan’s apartment without another word. He felt spanked. Unfairly punished for a much bigger crime than the one he’d actually committed.

  He walked out to his car, barely aware that it had started to rain.

  No matter how Dan characterized his blunder—a gamble that didn’t pay off, a childish effort to get away with breaking a window, the desire to skate past a foolish mistake—he couldn’t see why it should be so upsetting to Meghan. She’d looked destroyed. She could barely make eye contact let alone yell at him and then accept his apologies.

  As he drove home, he tried to see it from her perspective. Worst interpretation was that he’d deliberately lied to her so he could…only that was where it broke down. What was the fear—that he and Shana were still sleeping together? But he’d made it clear their relationship was over. Okay, so the name thing was unfortunate. He should have said that he and Shana had gotten married. Then, when Vicky—and that was a can of worms he’d have to deal with on Monday—showed her the personnel file page, at least she’d think, “He said his wife’s name was Shana but this says Susan. Hunh.”

  He tried calling Meghan on Sunday. No answer. He drove over, but Kassie saw him and said that Meghan had looked okay when she went out for a walk.

  “She’ll be back later.”

  “I think her phone’s turned off,” he said.

  Kassie pursed her lips. “Yeah, she just needs time.”

  On impulse, Dan asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Nah, I think you screwed up, but your intentions were okay.”

  “Will Meghan forgive me, d’you think?”

  “I don’t see why not. She really lo—really likes you.”

  It should have been good news, but Dan had a sinking feeling that the fallout from Saturday night was going to be an unmitigated disaster.

  He went back to his apartment and cleaned the oven, which hardly needed it. Then he called Shana.

  “Hey, there. Talk fast, I want to watch Sixty Minutes.”

  “I screwed up.”

  “What, with your girl?”

  “Meghan.”

  Shana laughed. “Right. Meghan. I want to meet her. Does she understand that you and I are friends?”

  “Someone showed her a copy of my personnel file sheet that lists you as my contact, and as my wife.”

  “Lemme guess. You never told Meghan that we were married?”

  “I was hoping to be unmarried before the issue arose. I didn’t take into consideration the machinations of a bitch like this fifth-year associate.” He explained about Vicky.

  “How does a fifth-year associate get her hands on your personnel file?” Shana asked.

  “I have no idea. And I doubt I could prove it even if I tried to get her disciplined. I have to come up with a better punishment than that.”

  “You do that. She invaded your privacy.”

  “No shit.” Dan scowled at the cooktop, which actually did need cleaning.

  “Okay, so what’s the problem, again?”

  “I’d told Meghan about you, at least to the extent that we were together through law school and after, but I never mentioned that we got married. It seems so insignificant.”

  “Yes, to us. We know what happened. We know why we got married—because we let other people define our relationship—and we know why we stopped living together. But, c’mon, Dan. You have to admit—it looks really stupid for two lawyers to stay legally married because between them they can’t manage to get the damned paperwork filed correctly.”

  “I gather Alec hasn’t complained about your marital state?”

  “He just laughs. But then we’re only dating, not picking out metaphorical wedding china. Your situation is different.”

  Dan thought about that. He’d tried to get the problem sorted out in time. He should have told Meghan the truth. “It was because we were already in this weird cliché situation. You know, the partner and the paralegal on the road? To then say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m married but it means nothing. We live apart.’”

  “’My wife doesn’t understand me.’” Shana volunteered.

  “On the contrary, my wife understands me all too well,” he admitted.

  “And I like you. You’re a good man. You can take care of this.”

  “I don’t know. She—last night— You should have seen her, Shane. She was completely calm. Her friend Kassie and I did almost all the talking while Meghan had this faraway look in her eyes. Then all of a sudden, she stands up and goes to bed. We had to clean up and let ourselves out.”

  “You called today?”

  “And drove by. She’s not there. But Kassie seems to have forgiven me.”

  Shana laughed. “Seriously, that’s a good sign. When the best friend likes you, it’s much easier.”

  “Right. As I recall, your friend Mary from college took a long time to see my intrinsic charm.”

  “Mary doesn’t like a lot of people.”

  “What’s she doing now?”

  “She’s a guidance counselor at a high school in Maryland.”

  “Figures.”

  Dan’s phone rang mid-afternoon. He answered it midway through the jaunty ringtone—it could be Meghan.

  It was Chris. Dan flopped on his couch and said hello.

  “Hey, Dan, how’s it going?”

  “Uh, fine, I guess.” Dan tried to tamp down his annoyance with his genius brother. Not Chris’s fault that Dan was praying for a call from Meghan.

  “It was so good to see you over Labor Day,” Chris began. Then he paused. “I was thinking about you, about your girlfriend. What was her name again?”

  “Meghan.”

  “Right. Meghan. Pretty.” Another pause. “Anyway, I just… I wanted to tell you…” Chris cleared his throat. “See, the thing is, I wanted to ask your advice.”

  “Mine? My advice on what? D’you have a legal problem?”

  “No. Dating.”

  The first thing that went through Dan’s mind was “carbon dating,” which was ridiculous. Only, the idea his brother was calling for dating advice—as in, advice about dating women—seemed even less likely.

  “Dating? You want to ask someone out on a date?”

  There was a long pause, then Chris spoke in a mad rush. “Yeah, okay, so rub it in. I’m a complete dork around women, and I’m what? Forty-two? Jeez, you’ve been married already, and now you’re going to marry the love of your life—”

  “Well, actually—”

  “—And I’m still struggling to talk to women.”

  This made no sense. Chris was a good-looking guy. Blond, tall, wire-rim glasses. The handsome nerd look. Tons of women went for that.

  An image of his brother popped into his head. He was tall, but he tended to walk with his head down, as though he was studying the ground, or didn’t want to make eye contact, or—what was usually the truth—he wasn’t aware there were people in the vicinity. He might be handsome, but who was going to notice if he never looked up?

  Dan sighed. “Tell me about her.”

  “Oh, God, Dan, s
he’s so perfect. Her name is Brenna. She’s a postdoc here, in the Brain and Cognitive Sciences Department.”

  “How did you meet her?”

  Chris launched into a long, rambling story about bumping into her at a cafeteria on campus. Dan listened carefully even as he considered the surprising suggestion that his wildly gifted brother was bad at something. Bad at something Dan didn’t suck at.

  “So?” Chris took a deep breath, like he needed to steel himself for his brother’s assessment. “Is there any hope?”

  Dan assured him there was lots of opportunity for hope. They talked through some approaches Chris might take. At the end, after Chris had thanked him, Dan said, “So why did you call me about this?”

  “Well, you’re so good at it. You’re like this complete package. Smart, funny, friendly. I feel unbalanced, as though all my gifts got bundled up into one tiny box.”

  “But Dad is always singing your praises. I feel like such a loser compared to you.”

  “Oh, God, that’s so wrong. He does that because he’s trying to protect me.”

  Dan leaned his head on the sofa back. “Protect you from what?”

  “I was sixteen when I left for college. You were still a kid, but already I could see that you were popular, clever, accomplished. You were normal, and I felt like such a freak. Dad took me out for lobster rolls, just the two of us. He explained that I’d be bored with your life, just as you’d be lost in mine. He told me how proud he was of me.”

  “Does that mean I have to hear about every last prize you win?”

  “Yeah, it does.” Chris laughed. “For what it’s worth, Dad tells me about every one of your wins in court. And how cool it is that you’re a partner at your firm.”

  “He says that?”

  “He told me once that Grandad never even spoke to him or our uncles. Always at the office, trying hard to get the next promotion. At least Dad talks to us.”

  “Hunh.” Dan thought for a moment. “Well, I guess that’s fair—if he praises you to me and praises me to you.”

  “You and I should talk more often,” Chris suggested. “Compare notes.”

  “Definitely. I want to hear how things go with Brenna.”

  Chris agreed.

  After Dan hung up, he checked for voice mail—nothing—then sat in the quiet of his apartment. It had never occurred to him that Chris had trouble with anything. Literally, the golden boy. Maybe Dad saw that, saw that Chris struggled in his dealings with people, an area Dan found easy.

  Easy…until this year, with Meghan.

  Who still wasn’t home.

  If Meghan came home on Sunday, she had to have snuck in. When Dan called Kassie late, she admitted she’d heard nothing.

  “Her phone just rings, so I suspect she turned it off,” Dan said.

  “She’s hurt. Give her time.”

  Dan thought about that. He’d see her in the office. He had to be circumspect, but they did still have work to discuss…

  “Okay, I’ll wait.”

  “If I see her, I’ll talk with her,” Kassie said.

  Dan went to bed more worried than he’d been the night before. He just couldn’t have said why.

  The next morning he knew why. Meghan had come in, quit, cleaned out her office and was out of the building before the usual Complex Litigation Group meeting started.

  Dan’s first clue was the empty chair near the door when he got to the conference room. Meghan was always the first there. Dan’s gut twisted to see the chair still neatly tucked in under the table. She wasn’t missing or sick. She’d left.

  When he looked up, his attention locked onto Vicky Womack. Her mouth looked smug even as she tried to make her eyes huge and innocent.

  “Vicky,” Dan said.

  “Yes, Dan?” In a cartoon, her feline smile would have had bird feathers dripping from it.

  “May I speak to you privately?” He stood and walked to the door.

  She stepped out into the hallway. Now she looked nervous.

  “It’s come to my attention that you’re the reason Georgia didn’t pursue the ProCell account in the cell phone litigation.”

  “What?” Vicky’s eyes looked huge, like a terrified horse’s.

  “Wally and I spoke Saturday night with Adrian Leveque, in IP. He handles ProCell’s patent work. He says Georgia asked you to prepare a pitch for the ProCell representation, but you never got around to doing it.”

  “That’s not true. Georgia never assigned it to me.”

  Dan cocked his head. “Really? So it’s going to be your word against Adrian’s? Who do you think the management will believe?”

  Her face looked stunned, her mouth open and her eyes huge with panic. Then she got it. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips. “This is because of her, isn’t it? Well, it won’t work.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “I’ll explain to Wally and Anne that you’re making it up.”

  “Oh, so now it’s my word you dispute?”

  “Yes, and I’ll tell them you’re retaliating against me because your girlfriend left.”

  “Why would that make me retaliate? You had nothing to do with Meghan’s departure.”

  Vicky’s head snapped back as though he’d physically punched her. She started to say something, then stopped.

  Dan leaned in a little. “I’ll ask Anne van Oostrum to reassign you from Complex Litigation. What they do with you is up to them and to you—I hope I never have to see your face again, ever.” He pointed at the door to the conference room. “Go get your things, then leave.”

  He waited until she came back out before he went in.

  “I apologize for the delay, everyone. Let’s get caught up. What’s the latest with the pacemakers case?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dan took Anne van Oostrum out to lunch at the Four Seasons.

  “This is lovely,” she said, indicating the elegance of the Swann Lounge. “What’s the occasion? Couldn’t we have talked in my office?”

  “About one matter, yes. I need Vicky Womack off all Complex Litigation.”

  Anne frowned delicately. “Why?”

  “Do you want the real reason, or the official reason?”

  She thought about that.

  “Both.”

  “The real reason is that Vicky somehow got access to my personnel file, photocopied the page that shows my emergency contact and showed that to Meghan at the Formal.” Dan held up his hand to forestall Anne’s questions. “My emergency contact is Susan Wolfson, at Bradford Wayne. She’s also my ex, but because of a snafu, we never got the divorce finalized. Don’t get me started on the Family Law attorneys in this town. Anyway, we fired both our lawyers, intending to do the paperwork ourselves. But you know how your own legal work is the last thing you get to?”

  Anne nodded.

  “So technically I’m still married to a woman I haven’t lived with—or slept with—for over six years.”

  “But that’s absurd. It must create all sorts of financial difficulties.”

  “Not really. For all financial purposes—yes, even taxes—we’re legally separated. There are some weird aspects, like Shana—that is, Susan—being entitled to a widow’s portion if I die. But until recently she was the principal legatee under my will anyway. Just because we aren’t a couple anymore doesn’t mean I don’t still care about her.”

  “You can change your will more easily than you can get divorced?”

  “We refiled the paperwork several weeks ago, before Meghan and I got involved. It still takes a long time in Pennsylvania.”

  Anne put her hands on the table, took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “I assume you’ve groveled to Meghan.”

  Dan felt his mouth compress. “I tried. I doubt I succeeded. She quit this morning. I talked with Darlene, who seemed indecently thrilled to announce that Meghan came in early, cleared out her personal belongings, delivered a letter of resignation effective immediately and left.”


  “Oh, I am sorry. You two looked so happy at the Formal. She’s lovely.”

  “We were happy until Vicky ambushed Meghan in the ladies’ room, showed her the page from my file, and taunted her with the fact I was married.”

  “How did Vicky get that copy?”

  Dan arched his eyebrows. “Excellent question. But as Meghan pointed out, it hardly matters. If we went after Vicky for violating my privacy, she’d just say that Meghan did it.”

  “Oh lord, she would, wouldn’t she?” Anne scowled. “She really is a gold-plated bitch.”

  “Vicky? Yes. But I’ve gotten back at her already.”

  “Oh, Dan, don’t tell me you broke into her personnel file?”

  “No. Better. I said that Adrian Leveque identified her as the reason Georgia didn’t try for the ProCell business before leaving for Washington.” He explained about the memo Vicky never wrote.

  “Is that true?”

  “Actually, Adrian says it is, but who the hell knows? Vicky denies it vehemently, which could mean anything. I don’t care. I’ve used it to remove her from the Complex Litigation Group entirely. I did it this morning, which I know is very bad because I should have cleared it with you first. But there was no way in hell I was sitting at a conference table with Meghan’s seat empty and Vicky looking like a well-fed cat at the opposite end. And she understands that she can’t accuse me of retaliation without revealing what she did to Meghan. Stalemate.”

  “No, I can see that.” Anne ate some food while she considered this. Finally, she placed her knife and fork on her plate, twitching the handles until they were parallel. “Of course I’ll support you. I’ll accept the stated reason, namely that she nearly cost the firm a valuable client, one we did eventually land and made very happy. I really hope ProCell sends us a lot of litigation going forward,” she added as an aside.

  “Amen.”

  Anne took a sip of her drink. “Okay, you said there were two things you needed to talk to me about. What’s the other one?”

  “There’s more to Meghan’s legal situation, isn’t there? All she’s told me is that she got the charges dropped, but for legal reasons she’s had to take a leave from law school. But she never talked about when she’s going back. I need to know the full story.”