by Jo Leigh
Natalie smiled. “You don’t anymore?”
“Nope. I’ve got my William, and while he’s not Atticus Finch, he’s pretty great, warts and all.”
The tension in Natalie’s chest had eased enough for her to breathe again. She didn’t have the whole story, and wouldn’t understand it until she’d talked to Max. She needed to be able to see him as a real person, not this wonderful, magical being she’d made him into. He’d charmed her, and she’d let him. The ride so far had been spectacular, but if they were going to be friends now, they’d have to come back to earth.
“Thank you.” Natalie walked around her desk and gave Veda a one-armed hug, which was right at the edge of her comfort zone. But in a way, Natalie had changed a little bit. Because of Max.
* * *
THE FIRST THING he did when he finally got home was take off his tie. Why had he chosen a profession where a suit was required every damn day? He’d amassed a two-week collection of really good suits, which was another reason he only had a couch and a TV set in his living room.
Today’s meetings had been intense but worth it. He’d gone solo, but he’d spoken to Stella on his way back from seeing Thomas Hornstratter, a hell of an attorney who worked in international law. He’d been interested in Max, and wanted to know if he’d be willing to go in a different direction. It sounded appealing, just for the challenge of it, but it wasn’t the best use of his skills. Max wanted to capitalize on his success now, when the iron was hot. There would always be big tort cases, and making a name for himself as the go-to guy at Hornstratter’s firm would mean a lifetime of security.
The downside was the hours, of course, and the fact that he’d be in no position to have a say in the cases. He hadn’t thought much about it a week ago, but he’d been doing a lot of thinking about that particular snag lately. He’d stripped down to his shorts by the time he got to the bathroom. He shed those, too, and climbed into the shower. The hot water beat down on his back as he breathed in the steam.
He thought about the lunch he’d had near the Flatiron building. The senior partner hadn’t been there, but Lawrence Johnson was more of a figurehead, so it didn’t really matter. His grandson, Peter, however, had been pretty persuasive. They weren’t a huge firm, but they had a strong reputation as fixers. They charged outrageous sums for stepping in when all seemed lost.
The up-front money wasn’t nearly as good as some of the other offers coming his way, but the potential for making a killing was there. Unfortunately, he didn’t care for Peter Johnson. He’d been a jerk with the waiters at the restaurant, and again with his driver. Men like that weren’t uncommon, but that didn’t make it easier to be around them.
He wished he could talk it over with Natalie. But she was busy tonight. After her regular hours, she had a special screening, so she wouldn’t get home until after eleven. And then there was the fact that he hadn’t told her enough about his work situation for her to even have an opinion.
God, how had he become such a coward?
Someone who would be home in about an hour was his dad. He’d call in forty-five, after he grabbed something from the bodega, so he could talk to his mom for a bit first. She hadn’t been around when he’d called two weeks ago. He’d ask her about her friends and her scrapbooks and just enjoy how each bit of news would begin with, “Oh, oh!”
It didn’t take him long to dress and head down to the local store. They had decent curry and a good salad selection, so he fixed himself two plastic containers, got a half pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream and a cold six-pack. Upstairs, he caught up on the weekend sports, modified his calendar, ate enough, drank a beer and then turned on the closed captioning, adjusted the sofa pillow and dialed home.
Sure enough, his mom answered, and it was a good talk. He considered telling her about Natalie, but she’d get the wrong impression. His vacation was coming to an end sooner than he liked, and before long, whatever he decided, he’d be back to the grind. There were two major meetings still to come: the yacht party hosted by the firm most likely to give him the package he wanted, and the sit-down with Kirkland and Jones, the two partners in charge of the staff at his current firm.
Although the offers he’d received thus far ranged from good to great, there were a couple of things no one could give him except for his home team. He knew the players there, he liked most of them and he’d already proven himself. Would more money and better perks be worth giving that up?
His dad picked up the second line, and Max took a moment to say goodbye to his mom. Before he’d even finished, his dad stopped him. “Something’s up. Want to tell me what?”
“Just trying to figure out my next move. A lot of people are interested in me now and I don’t want to blow it.”
“What makes you think you could blow it?”
“Come on. You know how competitive it is out here. These are shark-infested waters, and I have to learn to swim real fast. Finding the federal regulations precedent to stop the suit was a fluke. I’m not going to be able to pull a rabbit out of my hat every time.”
“I don’t know exactly how you found that connection, but I do know how you think. You’ve always been meticulous in your approach to a problem. Whether it’s figuring out how to keep your brother from taking your new shirts or tracking down unlikely legal precedents, it’s that kind of thinking that these people are interested in, and there’s no way you’re going to lose that no matter where you end up.”
This was why Max was a damn fool for not keeping in steady touch with home. Well, that and the fact that he’d always had a good relationship with his parents and he didn’t want to risk losing their closeness. His father had always been his chief adviser, the one he looked up to most. “Yeah, you’re right. At least you are about most firms. Some, I think, do expect miracles.”
“Then maybe you ought to cross those off your list. That’s a lot of pressure day-to-day, son.”
“The more they expect, the more they pay.”
His dad was silent long enough for Max to get to the fridge. “I’ve never known you to be motivated by money. Tell me how it’s going to help if you stress yourself into a stroke.”
He brought another beer with him to the couch. “I’m only thirty. Don’t bury me yet.”
“Thirty will become fifty before you can blink. Trust me on this. Especially if you’re working eighty-to a-hundred-hour weeks.”
He’d thought about that from time to time. Mostly when he was with Natalie. “I met someone,” he said, not quite sure why.
“Yeah?”
“She’s a film archivist. Loves old movies. Knows everything about them, too.”
“Well, this is different. You think she might be someone for the long haul?”
“No. Not for me, at least. She’s a...friend. I probably won’t see her much when I’m back at the job.”
“That’s a shame. Your voice changed when you talked about her.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep.”
“I haven’t told her about the tort case. I’ve been seeing her for a couple weeks. And I’ve avoided her questions.”
His dad was quiet again. Max took a big gulp of beer.
“Why do you think that is?”
“I wasn’t the one in the white hat, Dad.” He sighed. “I didn’t want her to think less of me.”
“Max Dorset, I’m surprised at you. Your job was to do everything within the law for the party you were representing. The verdict was never in your hands. It will never be in your hands. That’s not the way our legal system works. Sometimes the outcome might not be what you want it to, but you were every bit the man I’m proud of in carrying out your duties. No one could have done a better job than you, and of that I have no doubt. Whoever hires you, they’ll never have reason to regret it. They’ll be able to count on you, which is not something I think those bi
g New York law firms can say very often.”
Max let out a breath and just held the space for a minute. He hadn’t even realized how badly he’d needed to keep hearing that his father was proud of him. And he’d made a good point. Everyone in the system deserved the best representation possible. The process didn’t always work for the good of the people, but he’d known that going in.
He just hoped that occasionally he’d be on the white-hat side of things. And he wished he had a few of those victories under his belt now. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t forget that you have lots of options. Practicing a different kind of law. Opening your own storefront. I’m not saying you can’t be with the big fish, Max, because we both know that’s not true, but consider the life you want, not just the job.”
Max knew what his father was saying, but the time to make his big move was now. Who was to say he would ever get an opportunity like this again? “I won’t make my final decision without giving it a great deal of thought. I promise.”
“Good to hear. You been talking to your brother?”
“Not as often as I should.”
“Well? I’m pretty sure he’s still awake. Why don’t you call him, make it a home run instead of a double?”
Max needed the chuckle. His dad had always been bad at sports analogies. “I think I will.”
“Take care of yourself. Remember when you’re talking to Mike that your mother expects us to have dinner as a family before you get swallowed up by work again. And call if you want to hash things out some more. I’ve got to go take care of the darned leaky pipe under the sink, or your mother’s going to skin me.”
Max said goodbye, finished his beer and dialed his brother’s number.
14
TUESDAY GAME NIGHT at her place had seemed like the perfect way to shift things from incendiary to cozy. Now that Natalie had had time to think about Max’s job and what it meant, she’d come to a few realizations. One of them was that he was already a friend. She hoped it would last, but that would only have a chance if she stopped expecting him to be perfect—and if they expanded their relationship beyond sex and talk of films. This evening was a step in that direction. Especially because he hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but he’d been happy to spend time with her no matter the circumstances.
Max had been the first to show up at her place. They’d had a brief but intense make-out session, then cooled down when Fred and Tony had arrived, but that didn’t mean the rest of the evening hadn’t been interesting.
Max didn’t look at the Scrabble board in the traditional way. His highest scores were gained by the clever use of suffixes. Some that completely changed the meaning of the original word. Which didn’t please Fred at all. Her wonderful tenant was fiercely competitive when it came to the game, and he hadn’t counted on losing.
Tony, Fred’s date, had been an excellent fourth. He taught chemistry at a midtown high school. Even before Fred and Tony had become lovers, Tony had joined them for game night several times. His focus was more on the conversation than accumulating points. “So tell me something I don’t know about you, Natalie,” he said as he proceeded to clean up the game board.
“Okay,” she said, guiding Max to the couch. “You know I grew up in the Bowery, and I worked at the Bowery Ballroom as a bartender all through college. It was good. Mostly I liked the music, but it didn’t do my hearing any favors. Those bands are loud.”
Max seemed stunned at the revelation, although she had no idea why.
“What?” She frowned at his odd look. “It was down the block from my house. I needed a job that left me free for classes.”
“I figured you’d worked in a library,” he said. “Actually, I can’t imagine you anywhere but at Omnibus.”
They were sitting close together, his arm around her shoulder, her legs curled up beside her. She tugged his hair. “Hey. I have hidden depths.”
He smiled as he studied her. “You certainly do. I imagine it will take me a long time to uncover them all.”
The words alone were enough to send her heart racing, but she curbed her enthusiasm because she’d promised Fred there’d be no flirting, and definitely no hanky-panky while they were all together. “Your turn, Max,” she said. “Tell us something surprising. And deep. Don’t skimp on the deep.”
“Wait a minute.” Max reared back to give her a long look. “Deep? Working as a bartender isn’t deep. Now, if you’d run off to Russia with a bass player and lived off vodka and starry nights, that would be deep.”
She blinked at him. “Vodka and starry nights? Impressive. Go ahead,” she said. “Show us how it’s done.”
“When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?” His eyes narrowed as he thought. Then his gaze drifted a bit and she could tell he was seriously thinking about what to say. “When we were little, my twin brother Mike was hit by a car. We were seven, and it was bad. I have very spotty memories, but mostly I remember being terrified that I’d done something wrong. I hadn’t even been outside when he was hurt, but my parents were so scared it rubbed off on me.”
Natalie curled her fingers in between his. It twisted something inside her to hear his story. He’d jumped into the deep end, all right. The mood in the room had changed. Fred and Tony had grown still at the folding table they’d played on and no one was touching the excellent scotch that Tony had brought.
“Mike and I were comic book freaks.” Max smiled as if he were halfway back to age seven. “We came by it honestly, though, because my dad was a collector. We’d grown up on superheroes. I was Superman and Mike was Batman, and not only on Halloween. On the day of Mike’s surgery, I put on my costume and put Mike’s into his backpack and I told my dad that we needed to go to the hospital and make sure Mike was Batman so that he’d be okay.”
The image was so clear, Natalie’s heart melted. “Oh, God, that’s the sweetest thing ever.”
Fred rolled his eyes at the same time he nodded, and Tony leaned his shoulder against his boyfriend’s.
“Dad told me Mike couldn’t wear his costume at the hospital, and I got really upset. So he put on Mike’s black cape, his tool belt and a Batman mask he’d worn the year before to take us trick-or-treating. We went to the hospital like that. Sat in the waiting room for hours as he read me one comic after another. Mike got through the surgery just fine. He’s got a couple of hefty scars and he limps when he’s overtired, but altogether, he got lucky.”
“That right there is one hell of a dad,” Fred said.
Natalie nodded. She wanted to be closer to Max, but they were already pressed against each other. “What an amazing memory. And your dad, what a great role model.”
“Yeah, he was. Is. He’s still the person I go to for advice when things get hard.”
“My father was not a hero of any kind,” Fred said. “In fact, we haven’t spoken since I was seventeen, and I don’t intend to change that. Ever.”
“Oh, man.” Tony frowned. “I had it easy with my pop. He died a couple of years ago, but he was cool with who I am. I mean, he didn’t freak out or anything when he found out I wanted to be a chemistry teacher.”
The laughter felt good. The whole evening had. She’d been worried that she’d feel differently about Max since reading about the tort case, but there was so much to honestly like about the man that she couldn’t see making a big deal out of his work decisions. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to bring it up anymore.
His story had been gorgeous. Just the thought that he’d chosen that to share showed her so much about what a fine, secure man he was. Any friendship with him would be richly rewarding. But also very difficult. Tonight had just reinforced the fact that he was exactly the kind of man she wanted as the father of her children.
Maybe the whole problem would be solved when they were forced to be apart more, after he went back to work. S
he’d have time to get over this little honeymoon of theirs and get serious about a realistic man to date.
“What’s your dad like, Natalie?” Tony went to the mantel where he’d put the scotch and poured for himself and Fred. She passed, and so did Max.
“He was nice, although I didn’t know him well. Very obsessed with his music. He was a professional cellist, and he spent a great deal of time playing. And he was older. Forty-seven when they had me. Honestly, he wasn’t around a lot. My mother basically raised me.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Max said. “I was lucky.”
Natalie rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, basking in the closeness of their bodies, of the strength of his arm around her. But it was late, and the mess from the evening had to be put to rights.
Somehow it ended up being Max and Tony who tackled the folding table and chairs while Fred grabbed the last of the dishes and met Natalie in the kitchen, where she was already running the hot water in the sink.
“I swear,” Fred said, keeping his voice low, “that story about the costumes nearly killed me. I love that he talks about his family like that.”
“Tony’s great, too.”
“Yeah, he is. I like him a lot. But Max? So far I’ve been impressed with everything I’ve seen. He’s special, kiddo. And you know I don’t say that easily.”
She busied herself scrubbing a dessert plate. “He’s not as perfect as all that,” she said. “But that’s okay, because being with someone perfect would get real old, real quick. Besides, the deal hasn’t changed. Once he’s back to being Super Attorney, I’ll be lucky if I see him once every couple of months.”
“I don’t think so. I think that excuse was him hedging his bet before he knew you.”
“Nope.” She put the last of the plates in the drainer. “He really is going to be swallowed by his work. This has been more like a vacation fling than anything else. And he’s given me something to shoot for that isn’t simply ‘better than Oliver.’”
