Unreasonable Doubts

by Reyna Marder Gentin

  Frank looked Liana up and down, not even bothering to disguise the leer. “Great to see you, Liana. Jakob likes to hide you away—keep you all for himself. I don’t think that’s very generous—at Wilcox & Finney, we believe in sharing!”

  Frank laughed at his own remark, while Jakob forced a smile and took Liana’s hand, holding it protectively. “I’m sorry, Frank; I have an exclusive on Liana.” If she had forgotten for a moment, Liana now remembered why she avoided these social events. Not only did she dislike the attorneys at the firm, she sometimes didn’t even much like Jakob when he was around them.

  The waiter miraculously appeared, and they ordered the special—a huge platter of injira, the sour bread that serves as both plate and utensil, covered with various meat and vegetable stews. Frank had taken the liberty of getting each of them a carafe of tej, a deceptively alcoholic honey wine. When it arrived, Liana poured herself a glass and drank half of it in three large gulps.

  Before things became awkward, Jakob got the conversation going. “Frank, I’ve been meaning to tell you, in my spare time I’ve been working up a new algorithm that I think could be extremely useful in our marketing efforts.”

  Liana was simultaneously impressed with Jakob’s drive and shocked at his contention that he had free time. She was about to comment on the latter when Frank chimed in, saving her.

  “What’s your angle, Jakob?”

  “Well, the computer program would allow us to compare prices across an industry for a particular product or service—for example, tickets for air travel—but then also factor in prices over a realm of related products, like, in this example, for fuel or airline food. We’d be able to get a fuller picture of antitrust issues that might not be evident just looking at the primary product. I think we could market it to our current and potential clients as a more holistic evaluation that would reveal more subtle trends.” Jakob sat back with a hopeful look on his face, awaiting Frank’s reaction.

  Frank did not disappoint. “That’s brilliant, Jakob. You know, Liana, your boy here is a rock star. You should be very proud of him.”

  “I am very proud of him, Frank.” And she was. Liana pressed her knee against Jakob’s under the table.

  Well, this is going better than I anticipated.

  “So what great wrong are you righting these days, Liana?” Frank leaned closer to Liana across the table, his hand casually playing with Marissa’s wavy locks as he stared into Liana’s eyes in a misguided attempt at pseudoseductive.

  “Actually, I have an exciting case right now,” Liana said, taken off guard and her enthusiasm bubbling over. Jakob smiled and gave her an encouraging nod. “I’m representing this guy who’s convicted of raping a woman on the Fourth of July. It’s not black and white, though—they knew each other, and they went up to the rooftop of her building together. They were getting high and drinking and watching the fireworks, even dancing—anyway, they had sex, but it isn’t clear whether he forced her or she regretted having consensual sex with him so she cried rape.”

  “So you’re saying you think this guy’s innocent?” Marissa asked, her eyes wide.

  Yes. No. Maybe.

  “Well, for his appeal it doesn’t matter whether I think he’s innocent or not—what I’m saying is that he didn’t get a fair trial,” Liana said, speaking slowly to get better control of the exchange. “What happened was that the jury got exposed to information that the defendant’s DNA was a match with a sample taken from another woman some time before. Once the jurors heard that, even though there was no further information about who this other woman was or what the circumstances were, there was no way Danny stood a chance. That’s what I’m arguing,” Liana said.

  “So basically, because the jury found out that this lowlife is a serial rapist, you’re going to get him off? How can that be justice? And are you on a first name basis with this bastard?” Frank looked positively appalled, shaking his head from side to side.

  Watch it, Frank. That’s my poor bastard you’re talking about.

  Liana was about to rip into Frank when she felt Jakob’s arm around her shoulders, physically holding her in her place. “Well, I think it is more complex than that,” Liana said, teeth gritted. “I won’t bore you with the constitutional issues.”

  At that moment, the food mercifully arrived. The others attacked it all at once, stuffing their mouths with the delicate flavors to keep the need for conversation at bay. When they had demolished everything, Marissa started in again.

  “What kind of vibe do you get from this guy? Is he sexy?” She leaned across the table as if to draw Liana into some girlish conspiracy, her ample breasts now resting dangerously close to the remains of their meal.

  Innocent and sexy is a dangerous combination, Marissa.

  Liana could feel the heat rising in her face. She risked a sideways glance at Jakob and saw him studying her. Although only she knew how she’d allowed Danny Shea to worm his way into her consciousness, she thought she saw some vague understanding dawn on Jakob’s face—as though the single-mindedness with which she had been working on the case now made a modicum of sense to him.

  Liana looked at Marissa sharply and cut her down to size. “Most people don’t find rape sexy, Marissa,” she said. “Besides, I don’t get a ‘vibe’ from my client; he’s just a name on a transcript page.” She hoped the lie would convince them; she hoped she’d convince herself. Forgetting that she had not told Jakob her plans, she continued, “But when I go to visit him in prison, I’ll be able to make a better assessment of his credibility.”

  “You’re going to visit him? You never meet your clients,” Jakob said.

  “Well, this guy must be something special, Jakob.” Frank sneered. Marissa allowed herself a giggle.

  Recovering, Liana said, “He has a complicated legal issue that I need to explain to him. He’s a client, just like you have clients, Frank, and as his attorney, I have a responsibility to inform him of his rights. I know you don’t approve of the type of law I practice, but you do still recognize that I have to do my job, right?”

  Jakob, still looking confused by Liana’s revelation, cleared his throat and suggested that they order dessert. They picked at the cheesecake and seven-layer cake, so incongruously American after what they had just eaten. Although a coffee might have helped Liana regroup, no one wanted to prolong the evening, and none had been ordered.

  Liana knew she should just stay silent and let the rest of the dinner peter out, but she was riled up, and the honey wine had loosened her tongue. In her sweetest voice she turned to Frank and asked, “So which billionaire industry’s monopoly are you currently protecting to the detriment of the average consumer, Frank? Bank? Airline? Oil company?”

  Frank laughed half-heartedly; Jakob looked at Liana in dismay. She plowed on, as though some evil twin had inhabited her body, like in one of those horror movies she used to love to watch as a kid.

  “I’m serious,” Liana said. “I mean, everyone always criticizes me for representing criminals, but when you represent, for example, some huge pharmaceutical company trying to corner the market on a drug so that it can’t be made into a generic that sick people can afford—isn’t that just as morally reprehensible?”

  Before Frank could respond, Jakob jumped in. “Please excuse Liana. She’s been having a rough time at work lately—questioning whether this is truly the right place for her to use her talents. She’s working through some issues right now, and it has her a little off her game.”

  Liana stared at Jakob incredulously but managed to nod slightly and look suitably abashed. When she reached for another glass of wine, Jakob gently took hold of her hand. “It’s enough, Li,” he said, so only she could hear.

  Frank took care of the check. “Well, that was certainly an entertaining evening!” he said as they made their way to the door. “I do hope things work out for you, Liana. I always thought those criminals were lucky to have you.” Frank put his arm around Marissa’s waist and guided her out the door t
o a car waiting for them on the street. “Give my regards to Danny!” he called out over his shoulder as he closed the car door.

  Jakob hailed a cab and gave Liana’s address, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

  He’s still coming home with me.

  Deflated, Jakob sat with his chin resting in his hand and his forehead leaning against his window. It had started to rain. Liana wished desperately that she had played the part of supportive girlfriend that Jakob wanted and deserved, and she regretted the wine, which had definitely contributed to her bad behavior. Jakob said nothing for the entire ride, looking out at the soggy streets.

  When they got into her apartment, Jakob paced the length of the living room like a caged animal, his frustration mounting. He rarely lost his temper and he didn’t raise his voice, but the tension was palpable.

  “Why would you sabotage me like that, Li? Frank’s a piece of work, but he’s my boss. One minute you’re supportive and proud of me, and the next you’re ripping him a new one. How am I supposed to react to that? All I’m trying to do is get my career set up, get us set up. Isn’t that what you want too?”

  Liana ignored his question about their future, too distraught over how the evening had gone.

  “Can’t you see how superficial these people are, Jay? Do you want to give the best years of your life kissing up to a guy like Frank? Do you want to end up like him, a new Marissa every month? Treating women like objects and attacking people for the work they do? I know your job pays well, but can the money really make up for the rest of it?” Liana could feel herself boiling over, a tea kettle overflowing with frustration and uncertainty.

  “Is that what you think of me? That this job will turn me into a greedy, sycophantic womanizer? Is that who you think I am?” Jakob asked.

  “I think Wilcox & Finney is swallowing you whole. I’m frightened that soon there’ll be nothing left of the man I fell in love with,” Liana said, sitting down shakily on the couch. “And how could you tell Frank that I was having doubts about my role as a defense attorney? That was private, and maybe it isn’t even true anymore,” she said.

  “Wow,” Jakob said, shaking his head. “Is that what this is all about? This Shea has really done a number on you.”

  Unable to deny or admit, Liana said nothing, retreating to the bathroom and giving Jakob a graceful way to leave if he wanted to take it.

  She turned on the shower and stepped in, raising the heat as high as it would go. She let the blistering water pelt her face, mixing with the tears coursing down her cheeks.

  How did this happen?

  When she felt that the near scalding had cleared her head a little, Liana got out of the shower and put on her pajamas. She came out of the bathroom, peering around the corner into the living room to see if Jakob was there. When she didn’t see him, she walked slowly into the bedroom, where she found him lying on his side of the bed, on his back with his eyes closed. He had folded down a corner of the quilt for her, and she crept in silently, even though she knew he wasn’t asleep.

  After a few minutes, she turned on her side and put her hand tentatively on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body and his heart beating under her fingers. “I’m so sorry, Jay—I didn’t mean for this to happen tonight.”

  “I know. I’m sorry too. Frank pushed your buttons; that’s what he does,” Jakob said, his eyes still closed and his body taut under the covers.

  “I felt like I was under attack,” Liana said.

  “So did I,” Jakob said. “Let’s put it behind us.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you too.” Jakob turned onto his side, his back to Liana. A few minutes later, she could hear him breathing evenly, either sleeping or making a pretty good show of it. She stayed awake for what seemed like an eternity, until she finally drifted off in the early hours of the morning.

  Liana awoke to her radio alarm set to the oldies station, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons screeching “Big Girls Don’t Cry” at an unbearable decibel level. She swatted at her bedside table violently, sending the crooners crashing to the floor. An almost sickening silence followed, allowing the memories of the dinner with Frank and Marissa to flood her. Liana pulled the duvet over her head, breathing in the sad warmth of her body. Jakob had gotten up at dawn to go into work, and she was alone.

  She forced herself to get up and throw on her workout clothes, her head still throbbing. How do the Ethiopians drink that stuff?

  There were some Saturday mornings when Liana walked from her cramped apartment on Seventy-Sixth and Amsterdam, with its occasional vermin and lousy security system, to Charlotte and Howard’s breezy two-bedroom in the Bromley on Eighty-Fourth and Broadway, with its uniformed doorman and party room and gym and laundry facilities, and she couldn’t help but see it as a blueprint for the trajectory of her life with Jakob. And then there were other Saturday mornings, like this one, where Liana was so preoccupied with the vicissitudes of her daily existence that she barely noticed anything as she strolled past Zabar’s, Barnes & Noble, and the movie theatre on Eighty-Third, finally forcing herself to approach the entrance of the building—her weekend workout with Charlotte, Katie, and their beautiful Czech personal trainer, Marta, awaiting.

  “Good morning, Rico,” she said to the elderly doorman. “Why do I subject myself to this torture every week?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, miss. I think you like to be around that sexy trainer—I would like that.”

  “I bet you would.”

  Her roommates from graduate school, Charlotte and Katie, had been complicated and substantive women when she met them at age twenty-two, and they were only more so now, some seven years later. Charlotte was soft spoken and innocent; she had grown up sheltered by overprotective parents in Savannah, Georgia. She was pretty in an unaffected, natural sort of way—straight, thick black hair setting off clear, soulful blue eyes. Her forays into romance when she was younger had had a naive feel to them: “Oh, that’s what he meant when he said . . .” and “Can you believe he thought we would do that?”

  Katie was savvier. In addition to her smarts, her looks had always been her ticket up and out of a midwestern, ordinary life, and she put them to good use. She had strawberry blond hair and was tall and thin, but curvy in all the right places, and her features were set exactly so that you had to stop and stare a little when she turned her gaze on you. Her time in business school had been a means to an end, and her dalliances had a similar feel. Katie always had the best looking boyfriend, until there was some snag in the relationship, and then she’d move on to the next.

  The three women had spent an inordinate amount of time together during their graduate school years, studying, lying on each other’s beds, eating cookie dough ice cream, and laughing—always laughing. That they had all ended up in New York seemed like nothing less than a miracle to Liana. They were the sisters she had never had.

  Stepping into Charlotte’s apartment, Liana saw that the session had already started, which was fine by her. Katie was running on the treadmill, and Charlotte was stepping up and down on the Bosu ball. “Get in here, Liana!” Marta barked. “You are missing the warm-up!” Marta, who never broke a sweat when the girls were all perspiring to beat the band, ordered Liana to jog in place, which only exacerbated her hangover, and her drill sergeant directives weren’t helping either.

  “You look like crap,” Katie said to Liana.

  “Thanks. You look fresh as a daisy. You must’ve slept alone last night,” Liana responded.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” said Katie. “And I’m not ashamed to say it.”

  “Why would you be?” Charlotte asked. Charlotte had married Howard two years earlier, and although she’d been known to have a good time in her single days, as a newly married woman, she took a much narrower view of what was appropriate for Katie and Liana.

  “You know, Katie, you need to be choosy. Liana has Jakob; that’s different. But you have to go sl
owly and make sure the guy is serious about you as a person before you have sex, if you want to get married. Remember what my mother always says: ‘Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’” Charlotte said solemnly.

  “Charlotte, if my mother spoke that way, I think I’d throw myself out a window,” Katie replied. Liana agreed with Katie, but she couldn’t help thinking that Charlotte and her mom had a point on some level. She had been together with Jakob too long to think that wearing a virginal white dress was the only way to go down the aisle, but she did think that Katie could be a bit more discerning.

  “Okay, girlies. Face each other in a triangle because I know you’re going to talk. We’re going to do squats. Stick your booties out and bend those knees, up and down, and one and two—lower!—and three . . .” They grunted and grimaced as five foot ten and 125 pounds of beautiful auburn-haired Marta put them through their paces.

  Their weekly workout served as part exercise and part therapy session, Marta acting as the benevolent facilitator of both sit-ups and soul-baring. She knew everything about Charlotte’s, Katie’s, and Liana’s lives—from their romantic ups and downs to their issues with their parents to their work problems. Between the push-ups and the rows and the crunches, Marta had heard it all, and they always valued the advice she dispensed. She hadn’t had an easy life herself, but she didn’t judge, and she could usually see the solution that the girls had missed even when it was right before their eyes.

  “I barely see Jakob unless it is in the context of some firm-related command performance. And I don’t do very well at those; last night I had too much to drink, and when Jakob’s boss questioned my commitment to my clients, I lost it. Do you think if Jakob and I were married, it would be different?”