Daneen nodded. “Where’d you go?”
“Syracuse,” I said.
Momentarily looking at me with envy, Daneen said, “I wished my parents would have let me go to a party school!”
“Syracuse had a great communications program and it might seem shocking to you, but I’ve never had any desire to go to law school,” I said assuredly.
“It’s not shocking to me,” Nicholas said, squeezing my knee under the table. “And Syracuse did a great job. Kimmie is a super communicator. You should check out her blog.”
Daneen looked at me with renewed interest. “What kind of blog?”
“It’s a chick lit blog where I post about chick lit novels. I write reviews, interview authors. That sort of thing,” I said.
With a furrowed brow, Daneen said, “I thought chick lit was declared dead ages ago. I read Bridget Jones’s Diary in college but don’t know anyone who reads it now. Except my sixteen year old niece. She has that Shopaholic series, but I assume she’ll grow out of it soon.”
“No one writes chick lit like Sophie Kinsella,” I said.
Daneen looked at me blankly. “Well, that’s great, Kimmie! Your blog sounds cute.”
I tried not to lose my lunch over her use of his nickname for me, especially since it might have been the first time she had ever directed me by name.
Daneen turned to Nicholas and said, “I think we should get back to work now, don’t you?”
Taking that as my cue, I stood up and placed a hand on each side of my tray.
“We probably should get back to work but you can stay as long as you want,” Nicholas said looking up at me.
I glanced at my watch pretending to care what time it was. “Thanks, but I should get back. I have a ton of work to do as well.” Even if it wasn’t up to the intellectual standards of Daneen. “See you guys later.”
“Later, Kimmie,” Nicholas said with a soft smile.
Daneen gave me a quick glance and said, “Bye,” before turning her attention back to the papers on the table.
I walked away deciding I would much rather get struck by lightning than sit through another lunch with Condescending Daneen.
When I returned to my desk, there was a note from Rob that he would be out of the office for the rest of the afternoon. I finished the ‘ton of work’ I had waiting for me in record time and went on the Pastel is the New Black Facebook page. An author had posted a 5-star review she’d received from another blogger and tagged me. I assumed it was because I had given the same book 3 stars and she wanted me to know that another blogger loved it. When were authors going to understand that not everyone was going to enjoy the same book equally? In the almost two years I had been running the blog, most of the authors whose books I had reviewed were extremely professional. They always thanked me for my honest review even when it included some constructive criticism. It was those authors whose second books I accepted for review without hesitation. But there were a few who couldn’t handle being told that I didn’t consider their books among my favorites. I wanted to comment on the Facebook post that everyone was entitled to her opinion but decided to take the high road and simply “like” the status. I was sure it took most authors a long time to acquire the thick skin required to shrug off the critics. I wanted that for this author and was happy that another blogger had enjoyed her book more than I did. I didn’t wish bad reviews on anyone. Well, almost anyone…
When an email popped up on my screen that all attorney billable time for the previous month had to be released by the following Monday, I realized I still had a few days to release for Rob. Just as I was about to exit Facebook, I saw it and my heart stopped for a beat. Chick Lit Flavor had posted about an upcoming blog tour for Cut on the Bias. Ten people had “liked” the status and three people had already left comments: “I can’t wait to read this one!”, “This one sounds good!” and “Totally excited for this book!” I buried my head in my keyboard, wishing I could magically bleep myself to an island in the Caribbean where there was no Internet access.
Thinking of a bright side, I lifted my head. At least all of the enthusiasm for Cut on the Bias disproved Daneen’s statement that no one read chick lit anymore.
I bent my head back down. It wasn’t much of a bright side.
CHAPTER 19
“YEAH, IT SHOULD BE FUN,” I said to Caroline on the phone as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I brushed a bit of bronzer on the apples of my cheeks and forehead to create a “natural” glow to my face. “I’m really nervous about meeting his friends though. What if they hate me?” Nicholas had invited me to his buddy George’s birthday dinner at Anthony &Vic’s Steak House that night after work.
“I’m sure they’ll love you. Just be yourself. Enjoy.”
“I’ll try.” I glanced at my watch. “Crap, I told Nicholas I’d meet him in the elevator bank at 7:30 and it’s 7:36. Reservation isn’t till 8 but we’re having drinks first. Gotta run! I’ll call you tomorrow.” After I hung up the phone, I tossed it in my bag and ran out the bathroom door. I hoped Nicholas was running late too but he was already in the hallway by the elevators, tapping away on his phone. “Sorry! Got distracted.”
Nicholas looked up from his phone and smiled. “No biggie. I don’t want to be the first ones there anyway.”
“Too cool for that, huh?” I teased.
“Way too cool.” He glanced at his watch. “I think we’re pretty safe at this point.”
“We’re good then.”
Nicholas pressed the elevator button and walked over to me, closing the space between us. After scoping out the hallway for onlookers, he leaned down and kissed me tenderly leaving me weak in the knees. “We’re very good.”
I planted my high-heeled black suede boots firmly on the ground to recover my stability and touched his scruffy cheek. We quickly pulled away from each other when the elevator doors opened and Rob walked out.
When he saw me, his blue eyes widened in surprise. “What are you still doing here? It’s almost 8 on a Friday night.”
I stole a quick glance at Nicholas. We hadn’t discussed whether to make it public that we were seeing each other. I blurted out, “Finishing up some blog stuff.”
“I dropped some documents in your in-box, saw she was still here and asked if she wanted to get a drink,” Nicholas said.
Rob nodded. “Where you going? Maybe I’ll meet you guys in a few minutes.”
I bit my lip and looked toward the carpet, deferring responsibility for responding to Nicholas. He was the trial attorney and was paid generously to be quick on his feet.
“We’re actually meeting...”
Before Nicholas could finish, Rob interrupted, “Never mind, I promised the Wife I’d actually be home at a reasonable hour tonight.”
Nicholas nodded. “Too bad. Next time.”
“Yeah, definitely next time, boss man!” I said.
Walking away, Rob said, “Later guys,” and waved behind him.
When he disappeared through the entrance to our offices down the hallway, Nicholas and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Too bad,” I mimicked in a deep voice.
In a high pitched voice, Nicholas mocked, “Next time, boss man!”
Swatting him playfully on the arm, I said, “Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve segued from fashionably late to officially tardy!”
When we walked into Anthony & Vic’s a few minutes later, we circled the bar area first to see if Nicholas’ friends were still there. “They must have sat down already,” he said.
I followed him with shaky legs to the maître d’ and a minute later, a hostess ushered us to his friend’s table in the back of the bustling restaurant. As the smell of steak cooking in its own juices tickled my nose, I knew I’d never be able to stick to my plan to be heart conscious and order fish.
A fair skinned guy with curly black hair stood up from the round table. His dark blue business suit did nothing to disguise his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. Smilin
g broadly at Nicholas, he said, “It’s about time. I was beginning to think you were ditching!”
Nicholas gave him a bro-hug while I felt the eyes of the others on me and tried to look cool and collected.
“Sorry. We got delayed by the boss,” Nicholas said reaching for my hand. “This is Kim, guys.”
As I smiled and waved a hello, the table greeted me with a collective, “Hi, Kim!”
Nicholas nodded his head towards the curly haired guy. “This is George, the birthday boy. And his girlfriend, Sarah,” he said, pointing at a girl with a dark pixie-cut hairstyle sitting next to him. “And Brian, Alison, Peter, Paul and Mary.” Looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes, he said, “Be prepared for the trio to break out into Puff the Magic Dragon at any time.”
I willed my head not to whip around at the name “Mary.” Trying to remain calm even as my heart was beating like crazy, I said, “Ha! Nice to meet you guys. And happy birthday, George.” I snuck a glance at Mary through the corner of my eye to see if she was sizing me up, but she looked to be in deep conversation with Paul. Or it might have been Peter.
“Thanks, Kim!” George motioned toward the two empty chairs next to each other at the table. “You plan on sitting? We already ordered a few bottles of wine but if we don’t get some apps on the table soon, Sarah is gonna turn into Aretha Franklin.” He laughed while everyone at the table gave him a blank stare.
“The Snickers commercial. ‘You’re not yourself when you’re hungry,’” I said, giggling with him. I stole another look at Mary. Although her hair was in a ponytail in her pictures on Facebook and when I saw her with Nicholas that day by the elevator, it was currently loose and hung past her shoulders in long layers. She still looked tan which I suspected was actually her natural bronzed complexion. She looked up, caught my eye and smiled softly. I felt my face flush at getting caught staring, smiled back and quickly looked away.
“Seriously, people. Doesn’t anyone here besides my new friend Kim watch television?” George said, grinning at me.
“Some of us have DVRs and can skip the commercials,” Nicholas said, pouring a glass of wine. Turning to me, he said, “Red or white?”
“Red.” I watched him pour me a tall glass. “Thanks.”
Squeezing my thigh under the table, he whispered, “Anytime.”
“So when’s your next marathon?” Nicholas asked George.
“Next week. Vegas!” George said with a devilish grin as Sarah rolled her eyes.
“You’re running a marathon?” I asked. I was impressed since the longest I’d ever run was a 5k.
“How many will it be now?” Nicholas asked.
“Lucky 13,” George said.
“Holy crap!” I blurted out. “That’s awesome.”
“He’s insane. He ran the last one with a partially torn meniscus. And don’t even get me started on his black toenails.” Scrunching up her face, Sarah said, “Gross.”
Kissing her cheek, George said, “You know you think it’s sexy that I’m manly enough to run in pain.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Sarah looked at me, shook her head and mouthed, “Not really.”
I gave her a knowing look, smiled and turned back towards George. “What do you think of barefoot running? My boss swears by it.”
“We think our boss might be a masochist,” Nicholas said laughing.
George put down his glass of wine. “Your boss is right. The best runners leave no tracks. I’ve run a few half marathons with the toe shoes but not a full. If you read…”
“Born to Run,” the table said in unison and started cracking up.
Clearly the only one not in on the joke, I asked, “Did I miss something?”
Brian said, “The book Born to Run is the guy’s bible.”
“Gotcha,” I said, even though I still had no idea what they were talking about.
“Anyway, I’m trying to get my company involved in the Long Island Triathlon,” George said proudly.
“George is Vice President and Assistant General Counsel of Alston Financial Corp,” Nicholas said for my benefit.
George nodded. “Yeah, the average weight of my company is increasing by the second.”
“So shallow,” Sarah said, laughing.
“What do you do, Sarah?” I asked.
“I’m in culinary school. I guess I’m partially responsible for my boyfriend’s obsession with running.” She gave George a guilty look. “My homework means fattening dinners a few times a week.”
“Cool. And what about you guys?” I asked of Brian, Peter, Paul and Mary.
Speaking up first, Mary said, “I’m finishing my second year of law school.”
“I tried to talk her out of it,” Nicholas laughed. “But she wouldn’t listen to me. I figured I could at least help her get a summer associate spot at our firm.”
Lifting her chin in Nicholas’ direction, Mary said, “Yes, Nicholas was very helpful. But I like to think my grades had something to do with it!”
“Think what you want,” Nicholas said dryly.
Mary shook her head and stuck her tongue out at Nicholas.
As I observed Mary’s comfortable banter with Nicholas, it struck me that she was going to be working at my firm over the summer and I took a gulp of wine. Interrupting what I hoped was just friendly banter among the two and not flirting, Brian, a chubby baby-faced guy with freckles, said, “I’m in medical school.”
After hearing Peter and Paul were a CPA and actuary respectively, I felt pretty lame and wished I had not brought up the topic of career. I knew what was coming.
“What about you, Kim? You an associate too?” Sarah asked.
Sitting up straighter in my chair, I said as proudly as I could muster, “No, I’m a legal secretary.”
“Kim is being modest. She pretty much runs our group,” Nicholas said assuredly.
I gave him a quizzical look. “Um, I don’t know about that.”
“Sure you do.” Looking around the table, he said, “Kim’s the anchor of our team.”
He was practically beaming at me, but I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make me feel better or convince himself I was more important than I was. As the others focused their attention on me, I felt a flush creep across my cheeks. I wished he’d let it go.
Brian looked at Nicholas with interest and asked, “How so?”
Matter-of-factly, Nicholas responded, “She’s more organized than anyone I know. Schedules all of our meetings, maintains our docket of deadlines since our paralegal is challenged. And most…”
Feeling the need to defend the only other person in my department without an advanced degree, I interrupted, “Hey! Don’t make fun of David. I like him.”
Nicholas gave me a close-mouthed smile. “I like him too, but unlike me, you don’t have to rely on him to get things done.” Turning to the rest of the table, he said, “Not the most reliable kid on the block unlike Kim. But her most important role?” He paused dramatically while his friends looked at him expectantly.
This should be good, I thought to myself praying it was not some ridiculously exaggerated compliment regarding my contribution to the team. Me thinks Nicholas doth protest too much.
“Keeps the boss in line.” Squeezing my knee under the table again, he smiled at me and said, “Seriously. I love the way you boldly put Rob in his place.”
The group looked at me in admiration, but I got the sneaky suspicion they assumed the only reason Nicholas was dating a secretary was because I had big boobs and probably gave phenomenal head. “Someone’s gotta do it,” I joked.
Nicholas looked at me proudly, “And she does it all while maintaining an enormously popular blog.”
I impulsively kicked Nicholas’ leg under the table.
He stopped mid-sentence and looked at me with a furrowed brow. “You alright?”
I cleared my throat, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Defending myself for daring to support and actually enjoy the “dead” genre of chick lit was not how I wanted to spen
d my Friday night, especially after my identical conversation with Daneen the day before. I was pretty certain Nicholas’ over-achieving friends were more likely to read Jonathan Franzen and Kurt Vonnegut than Helen Fielding and Candace Bushnell. Desperate to change the subject, I said, “This skirt steak is amazing!”
“What do you think, Sarah?” George asked. “Gotta see what the expert says.”
“I agree wholeheartedly with Kim’s assessment!” Sarah said brightly.
“More wine, Kimmie?” Nicholas asked.
Happy that the topic of my blog had successfully been dropped, I lifted my glass and I said, “Sure.”
***
“Oh God!” I screamed, grabbing the headboard as I came.
“You feel so good,” Nicholas whispered into my ear as his strokes intensified and he fell on top of me.
We remained still for a few minutes breathing heavily until Nicholas flipped over on his back. “You’re amazing, Kim.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I said.
“We make a good team.”
“I’m the anchor!”
Leaning on his elbow facing me, he gave me an amused smile, “The anchor?”
“Didn’t you say I’m the anchor of our team?”
Nicholas grinned. “Oh! Yes, I did say that.”
“Did you mean it?” I wanted to add, “because I would have slept with you anyway” but refrained.
“Of course. Although I wasn’t talking about the ‘work’ team just now.”
I nodded. “I know. But are all of your friends so… I don’t know… motivated?”
“Of course! I only hang out with the cream of the crop,” Nicholas said with a laugh.
“And me,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be silly.” He kissed me on the nose and stood up. “Including you, miss big-time blogger. I gotta use the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere.”
I wished he didn’t have to mention the blogging as if it made up for the fact that I didn’t have a law degree or even a masters. “I won’t.” I turned to my side and when Nicholas got back in the bed and spooned me, I pretended to be asleep. But then I turned around so our heads were practically touching. “So you don’t like David, huh?”
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