42nd & Lex (5 page)

“Okay, okay. I’m meeting a guy I met. He’s picking
me up from Charlie’s after the happy hour. I have no idea what we are going to
do, but…”

Max walks in and cuts me off, “I could
venture a few guesses.” He is scowling at the dress and me. I decide not to
show them the pricy Jimmy Choos least he come completely unglued. I want to ask
him again about his sudden change in attitude but I know better than to push
him when he’s mad. He’ll get over it and tell me eventually.

“Highly unlikely, Max. Highly. Unlikely,” I
cut back at him.

“You never know Abri. These things just
happen.” Lindsey absentmindedly adjusts her top and smoothes her hair. I am
shocked that she doesn’t ask who my mystery date is given that Max seems so
hell bent against him.

“What did you do for lunch today?” I ask, eyeing
her suspiciously.

“Uh, I went down stairs for a sandwich.” She
does not look convincing. 

“Oh really, what was the special today?”

“Tuna.”

“Wrong,” Max exclaims. “It was roast beef.” I
nod in agreement; glad Max’s attention has turned from my social calendar. 

Lindsey punches him in the arm and walks to
the door. “Whatever,” she laughs and sticks out her tongue. “You’ll meet him
tonight.”

“Keep that in your mouth young lady!” I warn
as she turns around. 

Happy hour days are a nice break. Things start
to wind down around four thirty in anticipation of making our way across the
street to Charlie’s. The partners promptly make their obligatory “good job
team” speech and leave us for more important pursuits in the private dining
room beyond the bar. Max is always more than a little agitated that he is not
invited to the associate’s happy hour but he does his best to contain it. Today
is no different.

“Dude, just come anyways. Not invited is not
the same as not allowed.” I say the same thing to him every month and every
month he pouts but refuses to join us.

“Don’t call me dude like I’m well, some dude,”
he quips. 

“Seriously, of all the nights, I know you
want to come to this one and see if Luke O’Reilly really shows back up.” I
wince as the heat from the flat iron gets a little too close to my face. Max’s
previous incarnation was as a stylist so I roped him into doing my hair and
make-up in anticipation of the evening. I don’t question why he has a flat iron
or a makeup kit readily available in his desk.   

“I do. But what if I get caught? Turn your
head a little to the right.”

“So come after five thirty. Once they’ve
said their speech and toasted the latest firm success they’ll go to the back
room and you’ll just be another bar patron meeting up with friends for a drink.
Trust me; they never come back out of that room until closing time. And that’s
only to see who’s left at the bar so they can pop in on them at nine o’clock
sharp, hoping to catch a hangover on firm time.” I can’t speak from personal
experience, but another associate warned me against it at my first happy hour
and I’ve never wanted to tempt fate. Apparently, those unfortunate enough to be
marked received a high priority assignment on their desks in the morning with a
three o’clock deadline.

“Okay. I’ll come, but not until six.” Max’s
curiosity outweighs his loyalty to firm policy. “At least someone will be there
to fix your hair if you mess it up. Which I’m only doing because you can’t look
like warmed over dog shit in that dress. Hold still.”

“Okay, if you’re coming then you have to
tell me why you suddenly dislike the idea of me seeing Lucan O’Reilly,” I
demand. “Your tune changed as soon as you saw that black calling card.”

Max is quiet just long enough for me to know
that whatever comes out of his mouth next has been censured. “It’s pretentious,
that’s all. Who goes around leaving calling cards these days? There wasn’t even
a phone number on it.”

“Is that all?” I play along, not believing
for a second that that is the real reason behind his gall. “Really Max, that’s
nothing to get all twisted up about. The no phone number thing is weird but
maybe he doesn’t want just anyone calling him. He is one of New York’s most
eligible bachelors after all.”

Max shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”

***

At ten until five, I am ready to go. Linds
and I always head out just before everyone else to beat the elevator crowd. Lindsey
is waiting for me in the lobby with one of the guys from litigation, Brooks
somethingoranother. She is gives me a look that says ‘don’t say anything,’ so I
don’t. We are the only people in the elevator so I have plenty of room to check
out my outfit in the mirrored walls on the way down. 

“What is with you?” Lindsey asks me. Brooks
looks me over and I can tell from his confusion that he finds nothing in my
behavior abnormal. That’s because he’s never ridden in an elevator with me
before.

“Nothing,” I say, realizing she has noticed
I’m not holding my breath. In fact, I’m twirling around checking out the back
of my dress. “What do you think of these shoes? They were eight hundred
dollars.” I put my hand over my mouth as if to suppress a gasp. 

“No shit?” Brooks asks. “I don’t think I
have ever paid that much for an item of clothing. Not even that stupid suit
they make us wear.”

He had to pay for that. Cheap bastards. Shock
does not begin to explain the look on Lind’s face and I am sure it has nothing
to do with my shoes. I have some explaining to do.

I am careful not to break off my new heels
in a New York City pothole as we cross the street. The bottoms are scuffed, so no
taking them back now. The hostess leads us to a section with little signs on
the tables that read Carson & Jones. I order a wine spritzer. I’m still
soured on wine from the other night so it will insure I’m not tanked by the time
nine o’clock rolls around. Gradually the other associates file in and fill up
the rest of the tables. At five thirty sharp, Carson and Jones make their grand
entrance.

“We have a very special order of
congratulations this evening for Ms. Abri Cole,” begins Mr. Jones with a bit of
flourish as he searches the crowd for me. I doubt he knows who I am exactly so
I stand up and smile in his direction. 

“Ms. Cole, as you know, is one of our family
law associates. She signed up very special new client this week. She also
landed her first six-digit retainer. Let’s have a round of applause for Ms.
Cole.”

I am glad word has already reached the top
about my recent addition to the firm’s coffers. I smile and nod. “Thank you,
Mr. Jones. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Yes, it’s a bit brown nosey, but I am still
a young associate as far as the firm is concerned and it’s never too early to
start scoring points towards making partner. Linds kicks me under the table and
covers a giggle with her hand. I try to kick her back and miss.

“Good, good. Okay you pups enjoy the evening
and we will see you back to work at nine sharp.” With that, Messer’s Jones and
Carson make their way to the back room to schmooze with whatever high profile
client they are courting at the moment.

“Bar run!” Brooks announces, obviously
relieved the pageantry is over and we can enjoy ourselves. “You ladies need
anything?”

“I’ll take another one, B.” Lindsey smiles
and hands Brooks her glass. 

“I’m good, thanks,” I indicate holding up my
half-full glass. “B?” I give Lindsey a sideways glance and take another sip.

“So?” She sounds a little defensive. “It’s
nothing. Mr. Jones put me on a case that has a civil litigation claim so I have
to work with him and some of the other guys on it. We’ve had a few late
nights.”

“I’m happy for you and your late nights,” I
laugh. “Your secret’s safe with me. I know the office policy.” Associates are
not permitted to date one another and Linds and Brooks risked being passed up
for promotion, or worse, if the partners find out. Brooks is back from the bar
with Lindsey’s margarita and a beer. 

“So I’m sure Linds told you that we are
breaking the rules a bit,” he asks, eyeing us both to see if we will lie.

“I won’t say a thing. Just be good to my
friend or I will tell Jones that Max wants to do a stint in the civil lit
department.” I flash him a mischievous grin. Linds kicks me under the table
again. I had better not have a bruise.

“Oh God no! I promise I will never do
anything to upset her Abri. Just keep Max!” Brooks clutches his chest in mock
heart attack at the mere thought. It is well known in the office that while Max
is a good assistant, he is prone to moodiness and droning on about celebrity
gossip until you want to punch him. I can tune him out and thus he has been
assigned to me for several years.

“Speaking of Max, I told him to meet me here
after the partners left. He wants to sneak a peek at my—eh, Mr. O’Reilly.”

Lindsey raises an eyebrow at me. I feel I
should probably explain before she explodes but I want to wait for Max so he
can corroborate my story. Speaking of the devil, Max is walking towards us and
I waive him down. “Hey! You made it. The partners have been gone about five
minutes. Grab a drink and a chair.”

Max heads to the bar and returns with a
Coors Light. I am a little jealous. I like beer a lot better than wine,
especially Coors Light. Brooks and Lindsey look surprised that he hasn’t come
back with something sporting an umbrella.

“What?” Max asks a little defensively,
noticing their surprised looks. “I drink beer. I also grill burgers and watch
football.” It was true. Max did follow football. “I think those tight pants are
awesome,” he adds for effect. I work to change the subject.

“I was about to tell these two about our
encounter today.” I am eager to get another perspective on the situation and
develop a game plan before nine o’clock arrives. “Remember the guy I stepped on
yesterday?”

“Uh, yeah, the hot one that was totally
checking you out, why?” Linds asks and then squeezes Brooks’ hand to show him
she isn’t into this guy at all.

“I ended up in the elevator alone with him
this morning. I didn’t know it was him at first until he spoke.”

“No!” she gasps. “So you talked to him and
he asked you out? How romantic.”

“No, well, not in the elevator. I didn’t
even look at him when he thanked me for holding the door for him. He shows up at
the office and this one over here and Stacey let him in.”

Max cuts me off to confirm that this is
true. Disapproving or not, he is into the story.

“So I go in my office there is this god of a
man standing in there. Absolutely the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He tells me
he’s seen me in the building and had to meet me.” I leave out the parts about
me being up all night thinking about Lucan and how my soul feels drawn to him
and how I’ve somehow decided that I like calling him Lucan better than Luke. “Anyways,
he asks me out for tonight and here I am.” I finally take a breath.

“Oh my God, Abri, that’s the most romantic
thing I’ve ever heard. How did you keep that to yourself all day?”

“I guess I didn’t want to get all psyched up
and then he not show,” I reply.

“Whatever,”
Max interjects. “He’s coming.”

We manage to kill nearly three hours
dissecting my first meeting with Lucan and getting to know Brooks. I envy their
new love glow and secretly hope I’ll be sporting one of my own soon.

“We should do a trip to the ladies room to freshen up.” Lindsey
interrupts my daydream. “You said he’d be here at nine, right? It’s about
fifteen minutes ‘til.”

Max hands me a bag with the flat iron and extra hair spray. God
I love Max, he is awesome. Lindsey and I head to the bathroom to do a once
over. 

“I’m really happy for you and Brooks, Linds. That’s awesome,”
I say when we are alone.  

“I’m not sure it’s really something, but I’m having fun,” she
answers, noncommittally. I don’t believe her for a second. “He is really nice
and cute.”

My
hair has held up so I decide against plugging in a flat iron in a bar bathroom.
I don’t quite look like myself but it isn’t bad either. Max is certainly a
miracle worker. I just hope it isn’t so over the top that Lucan thinks I am
trying too hard. After all, most people don’t go home and change into sexy
dresses and sultry makeup before an office happy hour. 

I
concentrate on being steady in my sky-high heels as we walk back to the table. I
haven’t negotiated much terrain since I put them on. What if Lucan wants to
walk?

“Don’t panic. He’s here.” Lindsey stops suddenly
and I fall into her. My ankles wobble a bit in the Jimmy’s. What was I saying
about negotiating the terrain? Lucan is talking to the hostess. She is leaning into
him with a sultry smile. I am momentarily disappointed when he smiles back at
her. I see her point in our direction and I relax. He’s just asking for
directions. Lindsey gives my arm a tug and I start walking again. 

I blindly follow Lindsey to our table
because I cannot take my eyes off Lucan. He is absolutely astonishing, moving through
the crowd with a grace I can only hope to possess. I know he sees me looking but
I try to pretend I’m not. Lucan is at my side before I can sit down
completely. 

“Abri, you look astonishing,” he purrs. His
hand grazes my elbow as I ease back onto my bar stool. I feel the heat rising
in my face from the reverberating shock that accompanies his touch. Has it
really been so long since I’ve felt a man’s touch? My entire body feels like I’ve
licked an electric fence. Brooks, Max, and Lindsey look on with mouths agape,
which prompts me to close my own.

“Are you ready?” he asks, carefully pulling
his hand away from me.

I manage to stammer out an affirmation and
to introduce my friends to Lucan before we bid them goodbye.

I expect him to hail a cab, or at the very
most, show me to a hired town car waiting at the curb. Instead, parked in front
of the bar is the most incredible sports car I have ever seen. Growing up in
Iowa, the boys talked cars and heavy farm equipment non-stop so I knew a thing or
two about both. I recognize the emblem on the hood. Lotus. Its blue paint
sparkles under the streetlights. Again, I find my mouth hanging open.