“Love it!”
We sit at opposite ends of the cab’s back seat and he keeps shooting me strange looks. Does he know what I’ve been up to?
The restaurant is a quaint trattoria on a quiet, leafy street. We’re directed to a table in a corner with a traditional red-and-white-checkered tablecloth.
“This is a great spot. How did you find it?”
“I asked the concierge at the hotel. He told me that it’s one of the best places in town.”
Best places in town? I wonder why Antoine would take me to such an upscale restaurant. Is he wining and dining me so that I’ll volunteer to work on his privatization?
Before we’re handed the menus, Antoine signals the waiter to come to our table.
“Please bring your best bottle of champagne.”
I guessed wrong; he wouldn’t order champagne to get me to work for him. He usually makes those demands by email late on Friday night when I’m trying to unwind.
“Best bottle? Are we celebrating something?”
“As a matter of fact, we are.” He smiles warmly. I’m surprised by the relaxed tone of his voice; he seems uncharacteristically laid-back; it must be the fresh California air.
“Really?”
“I just found out that I’ve been made a partner.”
This comes as no surprise, I knew he would make it. Unlike me, Antoine seemed to have partnership tattooed on his heart.
“Congratulations! That’s great news. I’m so happy for you!” I lift my flute.
“Thanks. It hasn’t come easily.” He meets me halfway and we clink our glasses.
“I know. Everyone knew you would get it.”
“You never really know for sure until it’s set in stone.”
Antoine’s relaxed demeanour allows me to open up. “True enough. I don’t think I have it in me, to be quite honest.”
“Sure you do.”
“Not the willingness to make the sacrifices that you’ve made. You practically live at the office and I don’t think I can go on much longer working those gruelling hours.”
“It takes its toll, doesn’t it?”
“It does. And I don’t want to wake up ten years from now with work being the only important thing in my life.”
Antoine stares down at his serviette while playing with his fork. I’m such an idiot.
“Oh god, I put my foot in it. I didn’t mean you. I’m just talking about me and my life.”
“No. No. You’re right, Catherine. You’re totally right.”
And it dawns on me. I am right; I can’t imagine spending every waking moment of the next fifteen years of my life chasing billable hours and new clients for Edwards & White. Maybe a job at Dior would be just right for me. I want to tell him that I’m seriously considering leaving the firm and I’m dying to work for one of his clients, but I keep my mouth shut and change the subject.
“So are you enjoying the Paris office?”
“It’s great, but it isn’t New York.” He looks away for a moment before he continues. “Just so you know, the decision to move there wasn’t mine.”
“Whose was it?”
“Harry’s.”
I had a feeling Antoine had been pushed out of New York, but why would Harry ask one of the top lawyers in the office to leave when he himself was leaving anyway?
“Bonnie made him do it. I guess she felt threatened by my close relationship with Scott and my ability to drum up business.”
“I had a feeling it wasn’t your decision. You didn’t seem too excited about going to Paris.”
“No, I wasn’t. Unfortunately, Scott wasn’t able to make Harry change his mind. I told you the place is a war zone.”
“I just never thought the politics were that bad.”
“They were and they still are. That’s why I suggested Bonnie be your warlord. It’s always better to have her on your side,” he says sarcastically.
“I’d prefer not having her around, period.”
He smiles. “She’s a very good lawyer.”
“I know, but I find her very intimidating. I cringe every time she asks me to do anything.”
“Why?”
“It’s never good enough. I don’t think my ego can take any more of her criticism. Do you know that I walk through reception fifty times a day to avoid walking by her office?”
“Really?”
“She scares the hell out of me.”
“Is that what people say about me?” he asks, staring at me fixedly.
“Well, um, no. Not really.”
“Come on, Catherine, I’m not stupid. Tell me what people say behind my back.”
I hesitate for a moment before answering, but given his upbeat mood I take a deep breath and go for it.
“I’ve heard it said that you have a highlighter up your butt.”
He laughs out loud.
“Really? That’s hilarious! I love it! What else?”
“Rikash told me you helped him out with a script. He thinks very highly of you.”
“I was looking for the dirt, not the compliments. I know people say that I’m an uptight workaholic.”
“You do spend a huge amount of time at work.”
He picks up the votive candle from the table and rolls it awkwardly between his palms.
“Not like you. You were always out at glamorous parties.”
“Because Scott asked me to go. And most of them turned out to be pretty unglamorous, believe me.”
“I’m sorry I was so hard on you, Catherine. I know Mel was quite an ass.”
I stay silent. Mel wasn’t who I had in mind. I think about the concert with Jeffrey at Carnegie Hall and how he had made such an impression on me that night. I look across the room and feel a knot in my stomach.
“Catherine, are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Sorry. I was daydreaming for a second.”
He takes another sip of champagne before blurting out: “I have to tell you that, well, I know all about Jeffrey.”
Not expecting him to be so in tune with my thoughts, I nearly jump from my seat. I look away for a moment before he catches my gaze.
“Who told you?”
“A little bird.”
“Rikash.”
I’ll kill him.
“Out of concern.”
“Concern?”
“Rikash was worried Jeffrey might be a womanizer so he called to ask me if I knew him. I googled him late one night at the office and we both saw that he was probably going to be bad news.”
“What? Why?”
“His last job was CFO of a media company that spun off its Internet division.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“There were allegations of insider trading against him.”
I sit back in my chair, mortified. My mind spins; Rikash had suggested I do a background check on him before I went away with him to the Hamptons. How could I have been so naïve?
“How did he become the CFO of a public company?”
“He must have cleared his name. Otherwise they wouldn’t have allowed him to take that position.”
“Why didn’t either of you tell me?”
“I tried. I sent you that email about trusting but verifying, remember?”
“And you expected me to understand what it meant?”
“I was trying to be subtle.”
I go back in my mind to that precise moment when I received Antoine’s email and I had brushed him off as being annoying. How wrong was I to think that Jeffrey had it together and not him? I try to clear my name with dignity.
“Just so you know, I’ve written a letter to the SEC that recaps all the facts. This isn’t being buried under the carpet.”
“I didn’t expect it would be. You’re doing the right thing, Catherine.”
“I know. Does Scott know?”
With all the backstabbing going on at the firm these days, it’s hard to know whom I can trust. I squirm in my seat thinking that Scott might know about
my personal catastrophe.
“No. You can trust me, Catherine. Really.”
The tension in my lower back dissipates. Antoine is on my side.
“You guys were right to be suspicious about Jeffrey. What an asshole.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was like being dragged through gravel. It really hurt.” I pause and try to collect myself but the pain is still raw. I quickly change the subject. “Anyway, it’s over and I really don’t want to dwell on the past. I’m about to make a fresh start.”
Conscious that the alcohol is going to my head and I’m about to say things I shouldn’t, I change tactics. The champagne makes me brave enough to pry into his personal life.
“So are you seeing anyone?”
“No.”
I’m surprised by his response; he’s got the looks, the brains, and now the power, so I assumed women would be throwing themselves at his feet.
“Really? A great catch like you? That’s unbelievable! I guess you’ve been too busy working on that big privatization…”
He stares at me from across the table and puts an arm around the back of his chair. He pauses for a long moment before taking a large gulp of champagne.
“Catherine, I really don’t give a shit about that client or any other file for that matter.”
I stare at him, speechless.
“I have way more important things on my mind.” His dark eyes seem to look right through me.
“Oh.”
“And that whole googling Jeffrey business.”
“Yeah?”
“I did it because I was jealous. I didn’t want your relationship to work out.”
I lock eyes with him, my heart beating fast. I’ve always been attracted to Antoine, but I never expected it to be mutual. And besides, he was always more of a thorn in my side than a love prospect. But something’s different about him now—he’s so much less tense.
“Really?” I skip back to our exchanges, zeroing in on some of our emails and conversations.
“And is that why you ignored me in the photocopy room after I had sent you that flirty email?”
“I thought you were just playing with me.”
“And is that why you took the Dior file away?”
“Mmm-hmm. I guess so.” He stares down at his plate. “I was upset that you were spending a weekend in the Hamptons with Jeffrey.”
“Really?”
“It was incredibly inappropriate, and I apologize. But to tell you the truth, I was afraid to tell you how I felt because I was leaving the country and I didn’t want to get hurt.”
His vulnerability makes my heart stop and my eyes open—he’s an incredible man.
“What’s so different now? You’re still on another continent.”
“I don’t want to lose my chance to be with someone so amazing.”
He stands up from his chair and leans into me. I feel weak in the knees.
“Can I kiss you?”
Without thinking about it, I nod. He grabs my arm and pulls me in closer. Being a bit tipsy helps keep my inhibitions in check and I let myself lean forward—my right hand reaching for his black curls—and passionately kiss him back; having his lips touch mine seems so perfect.
The waiter pretends to ignore us until Antoine signals for him to bring another bottle of champagne.
“We have something else to celebrate,” Antoine says to the waiter.
“I don’t think I can drink another glass,” I say.
“Okay, we’re taking it to go.”
He reaches for my hand and tenderly kisses the tips of my fingers. I’m overcome with elation.
“You have no idea how often I’ve dreamt of this moment.”
We wake up the next morning to the sound of the alarm clock.
“How about breakfast in bed?” Antoine asks.
“Shouldn’t we at least make an appearance at the firm’s team-building exercises?”
“The firm? What firm?”
“The one that just made you a partner!”
“Ah, yes, that one!”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders and the warmth of his touch makes me feel giddy.
“What are we going to do about this, Mademoiselle Lambert?” he whispers in my ear while caressing my hair.
I remain silent for a long moment. I don’t tell him that I’ve been awake half the night asking myself that same question; that I can’t take any more heartbreak than I already have, that I want to be with him, but I’m unsure whether I could bring myself to move back to France for the sole reason of being with a man and that, on top of all this, I’m desperately thinking of leaving the firm and even spoke to Dior’s general counsel about applying for a job.
“I think I might have a plan,” I whisper back.
“Really? Are you going to share the details?”
“If I did, I might have to kill you.”
“You already have with that smile of yours.” He tickles me. “I only have six months to live unless I see you again very soon.” He turns my body so that I face him and becomes serious.
“I really mean it, Catherine. I want to be with you and a long-distance relationship might be difficult. Move back to Paris. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”
I fall back on my pillow as he kisses me tenderly all over.
A moment of deep happiness comes over me. Whatever this is, it’s not hooking up.
Chapter 39
“So how was California, dah-ling? Meet any cute boys?” I stare at the floor and try not to blush.
“Okay, what’s his name?”
“Rikash, shut the door.”
“Oooh, this sounds juicy.”
“You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? No hints, implications, nothing.”
“Okay, okay. Are you having an affair with Harry?”
“Ew, of course not. We did get quite cozy though. I threw up all over him on the flight to California.”
“I heard. The entire firm heard. Go on.”
“I was about to tell you that something, um, happened with Antoine.”
“Oh, dah-ling.” He waves his hands in the air. “You’ve finally come around.”
“What do you mean?”
“We all knew that he liked you. I caught him staring at your picture on the firm’s website more than a few times.”
“Funny, I always thought he disliked me.”
“It’s quite the opposite, pumpkin.”
“He told me about you two googling Jeffrey.”
He crinkles up his nose. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to spill any information, I was doing it out of concern.”
“I know. You’re a good friend.”
“But he’s in Paris. Long-distance relationships are very complicated.”
“I think we can manage.”
“Couldn’t you simply transfer back to your old job in the Paris office?”
I lower my voice. “Something pretty amazing happened in California that got me thinking.”
“Oh really?” he whispers back and raises his eyebrows dramatically. “What?”
“Dior was holding executive meetings at our hotel and I spoke to their general counsel about applying for a job.”
“Dior? Oh my god!” He does a pirouette over a stack of files.
“Shuuush, not so loud! Isn’t that incredible? It would be the best job ever!”
“So when’s the big interview?” He places my face in his hands.
“Um, that’s the problem.”
“Oh?”
“She left the hotel before I could hand her my resumé.”
“Oh, sweetie, that sucks. But Antoine does legal work for Dior. Why doesn’t he put in a good word for you?”
“We talked about this before we left California and we decided that given his recent promotion as a partner, it would be best if I pursued the Dior job on my own. Otherwise, it might put him in tough spot with the managing partners.”
“But I don’t understand…So many la
wyers leave the firm to go work for their clients. It’s usually seen as a good thing, isn’t it? A way to ensure the legal work filters back home. But I can help get you that legal job at Dior. Let me try to work my magic.”
“No, no, Rikash, no crazy pranks, please. This is my big chance.”
“Trust me, dah-ling. Have I ever let you down?”
The next morning Nathan walks into my office looking dejected.
“Hey, what’s up?”
He shuts the door and throws himself into one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“I feel like crap.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t make it, Catherine. I didn’t make partner. Scott just told me a few minutes ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Nathan. I’m sure you’ll make it next year.”
“That’s not the point. Do you know how fucking hard I’ve worked for the last seven years? How many goddamn hours I’ve billed?”
“Did he say why?”
“He said I didn’t do enough work for this and that partner who’s a heavy hitter and this and that partner who pulls more weight on the partnership committee, that I needed to prove that I can market my practice, blah, blah, blah, whatever. It’s a political game, Catherine. It’s all bullshit.”
“But you billed more hours than anyone else in the department.”
“I know. That’s what’s so sickening. I don’t want to do this anymore, Catherine. I just want to go jump off a bridge.”
“I can sympathize.” I pause, considering my next sentence. “I’m really tired of this too. I’m sort of thinking of leaving the firm.”
I can’t believe I’ve said this out loud to Nathan and without even having another job lined up, but it cements my feeling that Edwards & White is not for me. And Harry’s firm wouldn’t be any different.
“I’m not surprised. This is no place for someone like you.”
“Please don’t be discouraged over this, Nathan. It’s not worth it.”
“Easier said than done.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I read an article in the New York Law Journal that said lawyers are among the most depressed people in America.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Depression, alcoholism, drug abuse, divorce, and suicide. We’re an unhappy bunch.”
“At least we beat the dentists.”
J'adore New York: A Novel of Haute Couture and the Corner Office Page 27
