J'adore New York (20 page)

“O
h my god, Rikash, if I lose this draft, I’ll kill myself,” I scream from my office.

“I’ll kill you first. We’ve been working on this document for three days straight. If I have to spend one more day on it, I’ll throw up.”

It’s getting closer to the bar exam and I’ve been burning the midnight oil for the last ten days to keep Browser’s IPO on course while attending half-day exam preparation seminars. Jeffrey’s mood has been roller-coastering from anxiety to euphoria on an hourly basis, and trying to find some time to spend together in the last few weeks has been challenging. We’ve been communicating mostly via email and cell phone, often late at night from our offices over takeout food.

At one thirty in the morning, Rikash and I are still at the office trying to finalize an important memo that needs to be
sent to the SEC in only a few hours. The sixty-five-page brick has to get sent out to the attorneys representing the underwriters for their review. After three days of non-stop work, it’s almost finished. I’m giving it one last proofread as Rikash listens to techno on his MP3 player while waiting for my final revisions. My computer suddenly freezes.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with it. I was using the spell check and it just froze.”

“Okay, let me have a look.”

Rikash takes over the controls of my computer and I watch his long, dainty fingers move gracefully over the keyboard. He’s technically savvy and understands computers more than anyone I know. Every time something goes wrong in the office, Rikash is called to the rescue. Still, my heart is pounding.

“Rikash, I’m really nervous. Will I lose the most recent version?”

“Come on, relax, dah-ling, relax. I’ll have it unfrozen in no time. Do you think I actually want to sit around here all night and retype this ghastly thing? I have more important things to do. I’m meeting friends later.”

“Later? It’s one thirty in the morning. How do you do it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

He continues to fiddle with my computer.

“Where did you learn all this? I thought you were a filmmaker.”

“I’m from India, remember?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Don’t you know that some of the sharpest technological minds are from India?” He switches into his “I’m going to enlighten Catherine” tone. “In the 1960s, in an effort to make India a competitive and economically independent society, the Indian government created top-notch engineering schools, the Indian Institutes of Technology, and they quickly became very prestigious. It’s very difficult to be admitted into one—you need extremely high scores on pre-screening exams. My younger brother just passed his entrance exams, so he’ll start next year.”

“Really? You never told me that.”

“I’m so proud of him. I’m hoping to make some money by selling my documentary to help him get through it.”

As he talks, I stare at him admiringly. He has a big heart and a lot more depth than he is willing to show.

“Is that how you learned your computer skills, through your brother?”

“I have a few cousins who attended the IITs and all they talk about is bloody computers. I also temped at another firm before coming here and had no other choice but to brush up on my skills.”

“I’m impressed. I’m sure your skills come in handy here. Most lawyers are technically challenged.”

“Not all of them are. Some are actually pretty sharp. Antoine was really good with computers.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmm. I know we complained about him, but I actually liked him. He’s extremely smart. Did you know that he finished magna cum laude at Yale Law School?”

“No, I didn’t. He was too busy burying me with work for us to swap resumés.”

“He was always good to me. He even helped review the script for my most recent documentary.”

Surprised, I let out a gasp. When did he find the time? He seemed so caught up in his work. Did I misjudge him by thinking he was completely self-interested?

“Hmm. That was nice of him.”

“He’s totally into the arts.”

I’m reminded of our early conversation about his pro bono work for the Harlem school and that he does have a big heart. It’s too bad we left off on such bad terms.

“Anyway, how’s the document? Do we need to spend the rest of the night here?”

“No, I have it.”

“Thanks, Rikash, you’re a saviour. How can I pay you back? A bottle of your favourite gin?”

“Nah, a big kiss will do just fine.” He lifts his arms in the air and moves in for some air kisses. “Are you seeing Jeffrey tonight?”

“I’m supposed to give him a call before I leave the office. Shockingly, he’s working late too.”

I dial his cell and it’s turned off. I call his office and a woman answers the line.

“Hello, is Jeffrey there?”

“No, he’s not. He left a few hours ago.”

“A few hours ago?” Hmm. That’s odd. We usually speak before he leaves his office. “Did he say where he was going?”

“No,” the woman answers abruptly, “he didn’t.”

I call his apartment and there is no answer. A bit worried, I leave a message.

“Jeffrey left his office and didn’t even call me. We were supposed to get together tonight before he flies to San Francisco tomorrow.” I sit in my chair, sulking.

“Don’t worry about it. Something must have come up. I’m on my way to grab a drink at Tenjune. Why don’t you join us?”

“It’s too late and I need to study. And they probably wouldn’t let me in dressed like this anyway.”

“Are you kidding? You’re with me, girl. And you’d love Chloe and Amber. They both work in the fashion industry and they’re fabuloso.”

“I really can’t. Tomorrow’s a big day and I need to study for the exam. Go ahead and have fun, and don’t drink too much. We need to send the memo first thing in the morning.”

As Rikash leaves the office, I sit at my desk staring at my email inbox. There are several notes from Jeffrey saying that he misses me and that he can’t wait to see me. I kill time for a few minutes hoping that he’ll call me back.

The phone rings and I pick up, relieved.

“Dah-ling, this is your last chance. Stop moping around the office like a big loser. You need a break from all those Barbri books. Hop in a cab and meet me in the Meatpacking District. I’ll wait for you at the door.”

I change my mind after hearing the L-word. If Jeffrey’s going out tonight, then so am I.

I exit my cab in front of Tenjune and the doorman immediately lifts the velvet rope at the sight of Rikash kissing me on the cheek. We weave through the dance floor and Rikash waves at two attractive women sitting on a sleek leather couch sipping martinis.

“This is my boss, so behave, okay?” They both giggle and greet him with hugs.

“Catherine, meet my friends Chloe and Amber.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Chloe is a tall honey blonde with a dazzling smile and Amber is a petite light blonde with big blue eyes. Both are dressed in skin-tight jeans with gorgeous chiffon halter tops in pastel colours and are wearing towering stilettos. Do they go to work dressed like this?
Quelle chance!

“Catherine, try the watermelon martini. It’s amazing,” Amber gushes.

Rikash waves at the waiter, who immediately recognizes him and takes our order. “Sweetie, this one’s on me.”

“So what do you ladies do exactly? Rikash mentioned that you both work in the fashion industry.”

“I’m a stylist for Armani,” Chloe answers with a sweet Southern accent.

“And I’m a buyer for Bloomingdale’s,” Amber says, her head bopping to the loud music.

“That sounds so glamorous. I just spent the last three days drafting a sixty-five-page document and I’ve been studying like crazy for a hellish exam, so I haven’t slept in weeks.”

They both stare at me as if I have four heads.

“Oh god, I couldn’t handle those hours,” Amber comments. “It would totally kill my social life.”

Rikash hands over the watermelon martinis.

“Here’s to forgetting about work and your exam!” Chloe toasts.

I’ll drink to that. I take a small sip of my martini and then finish the rest in one gulp. “These are delicious.”

I signal to the bartender to bring us another round. After I’ve slurped down my second one at record speed, Rikash shakes his head.

“Pace yourself, you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in more than a week and you have a very long day ahead of you, remember?”

“Tomorrow? Who gives a shit about tomorrow? As far as I’m concerned, Jeffrey and his big deal can take a flying leap off my big fuckin’ toe.” Oh god, I’m slurring.

Rikash puts his arm around my shoulder. “Please calm down, sweetie. You’re getting a bit carried away.”

As Rikash debriefs Chloe and Amber on my relationship situation, I suddenly feel out of place in this noisy nightclub. I check my cell phone to see if Jeffrey called. How could he leave the office without calling me?

“I can totally relate,” Chloe shouts. “Believe me, sister, if I were you, I’d be on the next plane outta here. I haven’t had a real relationship in three years and some of my friends are going on four. All the men in this city have dirty dicks. They’ve slept with so many women that they’ve either been booed out of town or their dicks have fallen off. Go find yourself a nice French boy.”

“Stop it,” Amber shouts. “That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah? When was the last time you had a functional relationship?”

Amber stares back at Chloe in silence. “A very long time,” she murmurs, her eyes watery.

“Amber, isn’t that the guy you made out with last week?” Rikash points to a very hot, very drunk twenty-something across the room. “And check out the body on that guy with the red shirt, he’s hot. God, I’d love to see him in a dhoti.”

“In a what?” Amber asks, puzzled.

“You know, the skirt thingy Indian men wear over their crotch in the south. It’s the male equivalent of cleavage.”

All three ogle and giggle. The bartender comes back with another tray overflowing with martinis. Amber grabs one and struts toward her makeout partner. After three martinis, I’m starting to feel really good. The music is getting increasingly louder and, as far as I’m concerned, a lot better.

I take off my suit jacket, make my way toward the hot guy in the red shirt, and gyrate my hips in front of him. The next thing I know the two of us are getting down on the horseshoe-shaped dance floor; he follows the song’s lyrics literally and loosens up my buttons. Both Rikash and Chloe give me the thumbs-up from atop a banquette where they’re now perched.

Red Shirt is really getting into it and starts sucking on my ear. He’s also playing with my hair and holding my hip so that we sway together to the sound of the beat. Wow, why haven’t I been doing this every night? This is way more fun than doing research in the office library.

“Catherine,
COME UP HERE AND JOIN US!”
Chloe screams. “It’s so much better up here!”

I pull away from a frustrated Red Shirt and make my way to the top of the banquette to join my posse.

“Watch it, lady!” a hipster shouts as I grip his shoulder trying to make my way to the top. Chloe is performing a perilous balancing act shaking her bottom while still holding her martini glass. From where I stand, I can see the entire club. The energy emanating from the crowd is intoxicating. I dance with Chloe as we shout the lyrics at the top of our lungs.

Rikash stares at me with a look of amusement. It’s the first time he’s seen me let my hair down and he’s enjoying every minute of it. I decide to dial Jeffrey’s number; I’ll show him who’s out on the town. I signal for Rikash to pass me my handbag from the other side of the banquette.

“W
HAT
?” He lifts his arms to emphasize the question. “Do
YOU NEED MONEY
?”

I shake my head and mimic a phone with my fingers. After he tosses it to me, I dial the number. As I lift the phone above my head so Jeffrey can hear the fun I’m having, it slips out of my hands and goes flying underneath the leather couch.

Quelle catastrophe!

I start pointing to the back of the banquette, and Amber and Rikash stand immobile, looking puzzled.

“I dropped my cell!”

“Huh?”

“I
DROPPED MY PHONE UNDER THE COUCH
!” I shout at the top of my lungs just as the music stops.

Rikash mobilizes the nightclub staff to search for my phone, and two huge bouncers arrive at the scene carrying flashlights.

“She’s a very important person. She’s an attorney working on a major IPO and she needs her phone,” he says, trying to justify the brouhaha. The two bouncers move him out of the way and get on all fours trying to find my phone. This is why it’s a good idea to take your assistant drinking with you.

A bald man hands it over. “Here it is, lady. Be more careful next time.”

I turn my BlackBerry on to make sure it’s working and the time pops up. It’s four in the morning.

Oh mon dieu,
this party is really
over.

“It was nice meeting you, but I need to go home.”

“Catherine, you can’t go home now, we’re going to Florent for a late-night snack,” Chloe says plaintively.

“Sorry guys, but I need to be in my office in about three hours.”

I say goodbye to my new friends, kiss Rikash on the cheek, and stumble into the street looking for a cab. I’ll be paying for this in a few hours and will most likely fail the bar exam. Right now, it feels worth it. As I wait for the next taxi to pull up in front of the club, Red Shirt walks over.

“Hey, it was cool dancing with you earlier.”

“Thanks. It was ‘cool’ dancing with you too,” I reply awkwardly.

“We should get together some time. You know, hook up or somethin’.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun.” I jump into the cab and disappear into the early morning.

At home, I dive onto my bed and the room spins. As I stare at the ceiling, the phone rings. I move slowly to pick it up from my bedside table.

“Hello?” I’m still slurring.

“Hey, sweetheart, where were you? I think you hit the dial button on your cell phone and called me by mistake. All I could hear was a lot of noise.”