by Ava Hayworth
After this cryptic remark, we find ourselves standing in the lobby. Karl reminds me once again to expect Lydia Banks to call before stepping through the glass doors leading to the elevator banks. I watch as he presses the call button for the descending elevators. A few seconds later, the elevator announces its arrival. The door opens, and he turns to give me a little wave before stepping into the elevator. At the same time, I notice someone else stepping out – James. He turns towards the lobby doors and sees me standing there. He stops infinitesimally before approaching me with the confident, masculine stride I find so appealing. Stopping in front of me, his piercing blue eyes roam over me, and I am glad I am wearing my new black, cap-sleeve shirt dress. Black seemed to suit my mood this morning. The asymmetrical cut and the buttons running in a slant from the neck to the waist and then down the side keep it from being boring.
James must see something in my face because he asks, “What’s wrong?”
I glance nervously at the receptionist. James takes me by the elbow and leads me back down the corridor to his office. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats as soon as the door has closed behind him. I lick my lips, which feel dry, and notice his eyes focusing on my mouth. Taking a deep breath, I relate to him the events of the morning. He walks over to his desk leaning his hips back against the front and folding his arms across his chest. “Are you telling me that Karl Rothschild is rewarding you for saving his son’s life with his business?”
“Yes,” I gasp, the reality of the situation finally hitting me.
“That is…” James shakes his head back and forth, speechless.
“I know.”
“Well, this should be interesting.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”
“That’s not what I meant, Lainey.”
“Well then, what did you mean?” I ask defensively.
“Are you still angry at me?”
I roll my eyes. Men can be so dense sometimes. “James,” I say with exasperation, “you completely blew me off last week.” I don’t even mention the flirting with Elizabeth.
“I know I probably handled that badly.”
“Probably?” I interrupt him.
“Okay, I did handle that badly, but I want you to know that I had my reasons.”
I wait for him to continue. When he doesn’t, I prompt, “and those were?”
James looks at me with what, fear? Before I can analyze his expression further, he straightens and walks around his desk. He turns his back to me to look out the window. “I don’t want to talk about them right now… if ever. Let’s just say they reminded me of why I am not cut out for relationships.”
I can’t help but be touched by the hint of vulnerability he has revealed to me. I walk over and place a hand on his back, but I remove it when I feel him stiffen. “James, I know you have baggage. I have baggage too. This is nothing new. Do you really want to throw away what we shared because of that?”
He turns back around to look at me. “Lainey, I wish we could just pick up where we left off, but… it’s complicated.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
“I can’t. Please, just let it go.”
I don’t know how to respond to his entreaty. I can tell that begging him will do no good, and a sense of bitter disappointment swamps me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ask, “Can we at least be friends?”
James reaches down and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “I will always be your friend.”
The sincere look in his eyes is almost my undoing. “I’m glad.” Holding back the tears that are pressing against the back of my eyelids, I gesture towards the door. “I guess I had better get back to work.” I see James nod as I escape out the door.
I make it to the restroom, and after letting a few tears escape, I relentlessly quash the impulse to break down in sobs. Not at work, not at work I repeat to myself over and over again. Think of something else – anything but James. After managing to get a grip on my tumultuous emotions, I go back to my desk and get back to work.
A little after seven, I finally drag my exhausted body home. Sam is already there whipping up one of her protein drinks and making a complete mess in the kitchen. I fling myself down on our sofa, which is a hand me down from Suzanne.
“Bad day?” asks Sam.
I moan miserably, rest my head on the back of the sofa, and close my eyes. Feeling a hard object nudging my arm, I turn to see Sam holding out a glass of her protein drink in front of me. “I think I need something stronger.”
Sam laughs, “That bad? Just drink this and go for a run, and I am sure you will feel better.”
Taking the glass, I take a tentative sip. Sometimes Sam’s concoctions can be a little, well, let’s say interesting. Hmm, this one seems to taste a lot like chocolate. Since it is not so bad, I take another less cautious sip. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me about your day.”
I fill Sam in on the Rothschild business, and she looks at me with a dumbfounded expression on her face. It almost makes me laugh to see Sam at such a loss for words. She is the second person today that I have made speechless. This makes me think of James, and I once again have to fight back the urge to cry. She must have seen the distraught look on my face because she asks, “Isn’t this good news?”
“Well, yes… I guess… but that’s not it.” I set my protein drink down on the coffee table. “I also spoke with James today.”
“Oh no. It didn’t go well?”
“He won’t give us a chance. It has something to do with baggage from his past, but he won’t tell me what.” I look up at Sam beseechingly. “What can I do with that, Sam? And he played the friend card.”
Sam gasps “No.”
I give a little hiccupping sob. “Oh, yes… we’re going to be friends.”
Sam pulls me into her arms for a hug. I let her hold me for a moment before pushing away. I wipe the tears that stream down my cheeks with my hands, and Sam gets up to bring me the box of tissues from our bathroom. “Thank you,” I manage to squeak before blowing my nose into a tissue. “I’m alright,” I assure her.
“I still can’t believe that you are going to represent Karl Rothschild. He is a huge client. This could make your career.”
“I know.” I give a watery little laugh. “Make it or break it you mean.”
“Lainey, you are so smart. You won’t have any problems showing them what a great lawyer you are.”
I smile fondly at Sam. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but let’s face it… I am a junior associate with no experience.”
“Listen Lainey, Houghton Mills is going to be bending over backwards to help you. If you leave, you will take the client with you, and having Rothschild as a client is a huge feather in their cap. Believe me, they will not let you fail.”
I think back over the hectic day at the firm. Andrew Mills had called me into his office and informed me that I would be given my own office and that he would help me put a team together. He had also promised to help me personally as much as possible. I thought with his guidance I might just be able to handle it all. We had then spent some time discussing a team. It was going to be tricky not bruising any egos. Not only would I be a junior associate in charge of a group of seasoned lawyers, but I was also woefully inexperienced. We had left on a first-name basis, and I had felt that I had at least one supporter.
“They are moving me into my own office tomorrow.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Wow, you’re in the big leagues now, honey. Go for it is my advice.” My cell phone vibrates, indicating that I have a new message. “That could be James.”
“Yea, my friend James sending me a friendly text.” I pick up my phone, and after giving it a glance, turn the display towards Sam. “Nope, it’s Mark.”
“He’s still contacting you?”
I start to nod, but then I realize that I haven’t heard from Mark that much recently. “Sometimes.”
After dinner, I decide to go for a run
. I run north up to Riverside Park this evening because I want to avoid any reminders of James. It is dark by the time I get back. I shower and get ready for bed. Once I settle down for the night, I wonder how I will ever fall asleep with all the events of the day racing through my head. This is my last thought before slumber overtakes me.
CHAPTER 3
At Pier 15 I look with trepidation at the gangway leading to the sleek cruise boat that I will be trapped on for the next four hours. I glance toward the South Street Seaport and consider begging Davis to bail with me. Davis touches my elbow and looks down at me quizzically. No, I can do this. Don’t forget the open bar, I remind myself. There is always liquid courage. I give Davis a reassuring smile and place my silver stiletto on the gangway. The sun has just set, and it is still light. I look south at the Brooklyn skyline before turning my attention to the boat deck. The HM lawyers and their partners seem to be enjoying themselves mingling on deck.
Davis asks me what I would like to drink and heads to the bar to fetch our drinks. I surreptitiously look around for James and Elizabeth but don’t see them. When Davis comes back, I gratefully accept the gin and tonic he has brought me and take a big sip. Mmm, juniper berries, yum. Andrew Mills approaches us and charms us with anecdotes from the firm’s earlier days. I can see why he is so successful. His shock of silver hair and gray eyes contrast starkly with his tanned skin. I realize that he is quite good looking in an older, distinguished kind of way. He is wearing khaki pants with a white button-down shirt and blue blazer. It makes him appear somehow younger and less stuffy than the suits I am accustomed to seeing him in. If he were single, I would consider setting him up with my mother. Ok, maybe not, because that would be weird, but I am sure she would think he was attractive. Looking around, I note that khaki pants and dark blue blazers seem to be a uniform of sorts among the men from HM. They must have all gotten the same memo, I snicker to myself.
After Andrew leaves to join another group, I smile up at Davis. He definitely does not fit the HM mold. You can tell just by looking at him that he works in the fashion industry. He is wearing tight gray trousers with a white button-down shirt which he has rolled up to his elbows. A vest which he has buttoned over a narrow, dark tie finishes his look. He looks as if he has just walked off the pages of a fashion magazine. I feel guilty when I remember how pleased Davis was at my invitation. I promise myself to go out with him more often and give him a chance.
As we head north up the East River, we chat with a group of junior associates including Alex and his date. The view of the Manhattan skyline is spectacular. I find to my surprise that I am actually enjoying myself. Davis is witty and charming. When we are not chatting with the other associates, we spend a lot of time talking and laughing. At some point I do see James. Our eyes meet, and I feel a jolt of heat shoot through me. I see Elizabeth approach him and reach out to touch his arm, and I, resolutely, turn away. They do not approach us.
A large buffet is laid out in the main cabin. I stuff myself on lobster patties and shrimp cocktail. Davis declares the sliders delicious, but I am too afraid of them sliding right onto the front of my dress. I debated what to wear this evening, deciding not to wear the proverbial little black dress. Instead, I opted for a marbled gray, strapless chiffon dress. A knot is tied across the sweetheart neckline, and the chiffon material comes down to an asymmetrical hem at knee level. I love the way the flow of the fabric brings out the grays in the pattern.
Davis and I are chatting with a group of junior associates when Becca and her date join our group. Her date is also a lawyer, but he works at another firm. They apparently know each other from law school. After the introductions are over, Becca turns to me. “Nice dress, Lainey.” Somehow the way she says it makes it sound like she means the exact opposite. Davis must have picked up on it too, because he puts his arm around me and draws me closer. Leaning down he kisses my cheek next to my ear and whispers, “Ignore her. She’s just jealous. You’re beautiful.”
Shifting my head back to look up at him, I meet James’s eyes squarely over his shoulder. I don’t know what thought process was going through my head, because suddenly I am reaching up and pulling Davis’s head down for a kiss. I know that we are standing with a group of people, but I don’t care. The thought that James is watching makes me burn and spurs me on, and I deepen the kiss. Finally, Davis pulls back and grins down at me. “Well, that was unexpected.” Realizing what a spectacle I must be making of myself, I blush, and an uncomfortable laugh escapes me. Looking around at the others, I see that they are all gaping at me. I do the only thing I can do in this kind of situation: escape to the ladies’ room.
Was I trying to make James jealous? Is that why I kissed Davis so publicly? I question my own behavior. How can I treat Davis like that? I was basically using him to get back at James, and he doesn’t deserve that. “What kind of person does that make me?” I wonder dismally. I am beginning to realize that there is something about James that makes me behave in a wild, unruly manner that is completely uncharacteristic. At least I thought it was against my nature. I am coming to realize some things about myself that are new and surprising. I am starting to see glimpses of the girl that I used to be before everything changed. I refuse to let my mind wander to the incident that was the turning point in my life. I thought the girl before the incident was gone, Withd by ordered, structured, and goal-oriented Elaine. Now I wonder.
As I exit the restroom, I am surprised to find James standing on the other side of the door. Before I realize what is happening, he has taken my wrist and is pulling me down the darkened corridor. Coming to the end, he opens a door and pulls me in. I briefly register that we are in some kind of lounge meant for the ship’s crew. There is a couch as well as some folding chairs that look like they have seen better days. The room is small and lit by a standing lamp that is bolted to the floor in the corner. I hear the sound of the lock turning in the door and turn around to confront James. “What are you doing?” I ask him incredulously.
“I wanted to speak with you… in private.”
“I can’t just disappear,” I protest.
“This won’t take long.” He pulls me close, and turning, he presses me up against the door. His mouth swoops down and covers mine in a blazing kiss. I resist the urge to respond in kind and shake him off. Putting my hands on his chest, I push him back. He steps back, and, with his breathing labored, he stares down at me.
I take in the firm set of his jaw and his flashing eyes and realize that he is angry, really angry. “What is the matter with you?”
He scoffs, “Don’t play dumb with me, Lainey. We both know perfectly well what you were doing out there. Are you sleeping with him?” The power of speech deserts me as outrage floods every pore of my being. “Well, are you?” he snaps.
“Who are you talking about? Davis?” I struggle to keep my voice steady.
“Of course, Davis, unless you have another date hidden in your pocket,” he chides snidely as he rakes his eyes down my body.
James is not touching me, but his gaze alone sears me more than a touch from any other man. This fact enrages me further. I wish the door behind me wasn’t preventing me from stepping back and gaining some distance from him. “That is none of your business. What kind of dog in the manger behavior is this, James? You don’t want me, but nobody else can have me either? Is that it?”
Looking away from me, James runs both hands through his hair and grips his head in agitation. Holding my breath, I wait to see what he will say next. He steps back and sits down on the couch, bending over and placing his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Lainey.” His words surprise me. He is always so self-assured and confident, and this hint of uncertainty melts my anger. I walk over and sit down beside him on the couch. “Jesus, Lainey,” he continues, raising tortured eyes up to mine. “The thought of someone else touching you makes me insane. I feel like tearing something apart with my bare hands,” he states fiercely.
I take in his w
ords, and they make me feel lighter. “I guess you wouldn’t be into a ménage a trois?”
He snorts out a laugh. “God no. At least not where you’re concerned.”
I bristle, “But it would be okay for you?”
Clearing his throat, he clarifies, “I was referring to the past.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you were.”
Turning towards me, James picks up my hand and brings it to his lips. He holds my hand to his mouth for several long seconds before kissing the sensitive skin on the inside of my palm. Retaining his grip on my hand, he brings our joined hands down to rest on his knee. “Lainey, I have tried to stay away from you. You know I have tried, but I can’t do it. I want you too much, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I squeeze his hand. “What is so terrible that you feel like you can’t be with me?” Everything inside me pleads for him to answer.
“I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t,” he answers cryptically.
“Please just tell me.”
James gives a resigned sigh. “Ask your brother.”
“What? My brother? Do you mean Jett? What does he have to do with anything?”
“We were in law school together. Just ask him about me.”
I sit quietly and allow this new information sink in. Jett and James were at Columbia together? Why am I just now hearing about this? Thinking back, I realize that I never gave James’s name to Jett. It had all been so new when I spoke to Jett on the way back from the Hamptons. Hadn’t I detected a coolness in James when he dropped me off at my apartment on Sunday night? I had just told him all about my brother Jett. He must have realized that my brother was someone he had known in law school. A lightbulb goes off in my head. That is why I hadn’t heard from him at all the following week.
Why won’t he explain this mysterious problem with Jett to me himself? I look up at James, and as if reading my thoughts, he says, “I want you to draw your own conclusions.” Feeling completely baffled by this statement, I cannot wait to be home where I can call Jett.
