J'adore New York (22 page)

“W
here’s Rikash?” I ask Mimi first thing Monday. “He called in sick today. He sounded horrible on the phone.”

God, I wish I could confide in him right now. I cover my face with large reading glasses to hide the bags under my eyes. Sitting in my office, I stare at the Browser file and my first inclination is to rip it up into a million pieces and throw it out the window. Several frantic messages from Jeffrey are waiting in my voicemail, so I pick up the phone to dial his number.

Sooner rather than later, I need to confront
le démon.

“Hi, Jeffrey, sorry for the disappearing act on Sunday morning. I was really sick. Must have been all that rich food I ate Saturday night.”

“How are you feeling, babe? Are you okay?”

“Much better. Do you have a few minutes to chat?

“Of course.”

My hands shaking, I try to gather the courage to confront him head-on: “Listen, I’ve thought about what you asked and I don’t think I can do it. It falls outside the scope of my mandate.”

“What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he replies, his tone now aggressive.

I pause before answering and brace myself for the worst.

“It means that you should ask someone else to take care of it for you.”

“You can’t be serious? I’m only asking you to do me a tiny favour; I’m not asking for a lot.” His voice has now turned ice cold.

“I reread the provisions of the underwriting agreement and the offshore transfer would violate its terms.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? When did you suddenly turn into Little Miss Perfect?” he shouts into the phone. “Are you turning on me? Catherine, don’t you dare do this to me. Not now.”

Shocked and heartbroken by the way he is talking to me, I want to scream at the top of my lungs,
“Ô rage! Ô désespoir! Egoiste! Egoiste!”
like in the Chanel perfume ads.

“Jeffrey, calm down. All I’m saying is that I’m not entirely comfortable doing this, that’s all.”

He tries to put on his sweet voice. “Listen, babe, I already told you that it’s nothing illegal. I’m doing this at the recommendation of my accountant, so it’s all legit. You just transfer the shares into my secretary’s name at an offshore account and we’re good to go. Can you have dinner with me tonight? We could talk about it some more and I’ll explain it to you. I’ve already made us a reservation at Chanterelle and had them put aside that bottle of Sauvignon Blanc you like from their private cellar.”

How did I ever fall for this crap? I could lose my licence to practise law. And how greedy can someone get? He’ll already be making millions of dollars legitimately next week, does he really need to make more pocket change at the expense of his reputation, his company’s reputation, and, more importantly, our relationship? I thought we had such a great connection, a shared passion for music and the arts. Could he have made it all up to seduce me? My stomach sinks to my knees when I realize that my interests in jazz music, reading, and travel are listed in my profile on the firm’s website and on Facebook. He played me like a fool.

“Not sure. I’m swamped over here. I’ll call you back.”

“I miss you,” he adds before I hang up the phone.

I sit in my chair, dejected.
Que faire?

“Mind if I join?”

“No, please go ahead.”

It’s lunch and I’m sitting in the corporate library sifting through newspapers to take a break from Bonnie’s endless demands and avoid reading my emails since I can’t get through more than a few lines without thinking of Jeffrey. I’m totally useless and bummed out—to the point where I’m actually pleased to be interrupted by Nathan walking in with his lunch from Fresco on the Go.

“Here, Catherine, I brought you an espresso. I know how much you like it.”

I look up from my paper, surprised by his thoughtful gesture. Maybe he’s trying to buy my silence after the recent coke bust. I’m suspicious of everyone right now.

“Thanks, Nathan, that’s very sweet of you.”

“God, it’s disgusting out there, I can hardly breathe. It must be a hundred and forty degrees.”

“I know. That’s why I’m in here and not out there.”

“So, what’s new? Have you attended any fabulous parties that would make me jealous?”

“No more parties. I’ve been working every weekend.”

“I guess the big IPO is coming up.”

“Hmm.” That’s the last thing I want to think about.

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, I’m just really tired of talking about it, that’s all. How about you? Anything new in your life?”

“Actually, I have some pretty amazing news. My wife is expecting our first child.”

I stare at Nathan, baffled. His first child? Billing three thousand hours a year doesn’t give you much time to conceive
a baby…If there are about eight thousand, eight hundred hours in a year and they say almost a third of that time is spent sleeping, Nathan had to be spending every waking hour at the office to make his billable hours add up. But because time spent reading emails, filling out time sheets, attending practice group meetings, surfing on the web, and snorting white powder isn’t billable, he would have to be in his office on the clock from dawn until very late at night six days per week, with almost no time for meals, bathroom breaks, or sex.

“Congratulations, Nathan. That’s wonderful news.”

“I know. It really is.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful father,” I say reluctantly.

“Catherine, I’ve been meaning to explain…”

“I really don’t want an explanation, Nathan. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Just so you know, I’m not an addict. A friend of mine introduced me to it recently after a dinner party and I’ve only done it a few times since. It really gives you a boost.”

“You talk about it like it’s a new espresso blend. You could get caught or, worse, addicted. And you could lose your job over this.”

“I know. I’ve quit. I hope you believe me.” He looks totally shamed.

I have the sudden realization that maybe I shouldn’t be so self-righteous. After all, we’re both dabbling with illegality; it’s just that Nathan’s comes in a tiny Ziploc bag and mine comes in the shape of a manipulative boyfriend.

“Have you ever tried it?”

I try to relax my tone. “No, not interested. I certainly don’t need the adrenalin boost; I already have Bonnie breathing down my neck. She should be labelled an illicit drug.”

He chuckles as he takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the first time we share a laugh.

“Hey, did you hear the good news about Antoine?”

“No.”

“He just brought in a major deal for the firm—the privatization of a large French company. Lucky bastard has good timing. He’s up for partnership this fall.”

“Really? That’s great.” Despite his bizarre behaviour before he left for Paris, I’m happy for him. He deserves every ounce of his success.

“It looks like he really scored big. This deal is so huge that the entire Paris office will be mobilized for it,” he says with a look of envy.

“How do you know all this?”

“He told me over the phone yesterday.”

It hadn’t occurred to me before now, but Antoine never called me for updates about the New York office. After our big run-in the night of the concert, he probably decided it was best to keep in touch by calling Nathan instead. It’s odd that it would bother me but it makes me feel sad.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit off. Hope you’re not concerned about all the rumours going around. I don’t think we have anything to worry about, we’re way too low on the totem pole to matter.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just tired. This IPO is killing me.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least you don’t have to worry about your billable hours,” he adds eagerly. “I’ll catch you later.”

The bright side? The bright side of what? I decide to take a lap in the hallways to stay out my office for as long as possible. Jeffrey’s request has shaken my self-confidence to the core. I’m probably totally unfit to practise law. And what’s the point in working like
un chien
anyway? Maybe Madame Simona was right; I should find another career. I walk aimlessly for a while trying to make sense of my life before my thoughts are interrupted by Bonnie’s screeching. She’s in Scott’s office.

“I can’t believe this. Catherine’s working for me, not you!”

“No she’s not. Catherine’s doing work for me on the Browser deal, so she can’t work on your new acquisition, sorry.”

Bonnie storms out of Scott’s office and down the hallway, the buckles on her black Gucci dominatrix skirt swinging from side to side.

Great, on top of everything, now I’m witnessing the battle of the warlords first-hand. For once, I want to throw myself at her stilettos and plead with Bonnie to give me work so I can avoid having to deal with Jeffrey. You know it’s bad when…

I stop back at the library to pick up my things and the phone rings; Harry Traum’s name appears on the screen. Given that I’m the only person in the room, I debate whether to pick up the line before it stops ringing. I take a few more steps toward the exit when the phone rings again. Paranoid there may be security cameras and he can somehow see me, I pick up the line.

“Hello.”

“This is Harry Traum. I need research done right away. I’m going to court in a few hours. This is urgent.”

“Well, um, not sure I can help out, Mr. Traum. I’m tied up at the moment with a large transaction.”

“It’ll have to wait. This is more important.”

“I’m afraid I really don’t have the time. Perhaps I could find someone else to help you?” I answer hesitatingly, knowing that this is risky. Given that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in about a month and my nerves are as frazzled as my hair, I decide to stand my ground.

“Do you know who I am?” he shouts into the phone. “Do you?”

“Yes, of course…Do you know who
I
am?” I reply, shaking.

“No.”

My mind races for a split second. There are no hidden cameras. He doesn’t know who I am.

“Sorry.” I hang up the phone and run out of the library, shocked by my brazen stunt.

The next morning, Rikash shows up at the office unshaven and reeking of cigarettes and liquor. He has dark circles under his eyes and looks more dishevelled than I do.

“Rikash, what happened to you? You look horrible.”

He walks into my office, shuts the door, rolls up in the fetal position on the floor, and begins to weep.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is horrible, Catherine, horrible.” I crouch down beside him, teetering in my heels as I rub his shoulder comfortingly.

“What? Please, tell me what happened!”

After rocking back and forth on the carpet for a few moments, he finally speaks.

“Can we go outside for a bit? I need a smoke.”

We leave the office without letting anyone know where we’re going. With the way I feel and he looks, they can just deal with it. He lights up, offers me a cigarette, and I accept. He puts his jacket on his shoulder and an arm around my waist.

“Dimitri stole my documentary.”

“Oh my god, why? What happened?”

“We were out on Saturday night at some club and I guess Dimitri got jealous that I was talking to someone else. You know me, I’m an extrovert; I enjoy being the life and soul of every party. I don’t think he could handle being with someone so outgoing. Anyway, we went back to my place, had a big fight, and he stole my laptop and my camera while I was sleeping. My laptop had all the rough cuts from my film on it.”

“Rikash, I’m sorry.” My heart sinks at the news.

“And like a total idiot, I was keeping the backup copies in my camera bag. I wasted the last year and a half of my life making this film. I’m such a bloody fool.”

“I can’t believe it. Did you call the police?”

“No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

He lifts his shoulders. “I guess I’m still hoping he might come back.”

“Rikash, he stole your laptop. You think that he’s actually going to come back?”

“I don’t know. I’m a bit messed up at the moment.” His eyes well up again. “And my poor brother, he’ll be crushed. I was hoping to sell the rights to my film to help him get through school. My parents can’t help out, they don’t have a dime.”

“I can lend you some money.”

“Dah-ling, that’s very kind, but I could never.”

“Come on, it would be a loan. You can pay me back later.”

“Thank you, but I have some pride, you know. I have lots of friends in Mumbai, maybe I’ll live with them for a bit while I figure things out. Perhaps moving back is the best option.”

“Rikash, I don’t want you to go. I’ll be lost without you.” I look at him and tears start rolling down my cheeks. “You’re not the only one who was taken for a ride,
mon ami.”

He eyes become as big as saucers. “What do you mean?”

“Jeffrey. He used me, Rikash. He’s a scumbag and a thief.”

“What?”

“He asked me to help him steal from his company.”

“But why? Isn’t he making enough money as it is?”

“He’s greedy. For some people, it’s never enough.”

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to put his arms around me and I start to cry.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. You should turn him in. He deserves it, the bastard.”

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Hitchcock once said that revenge is sweet and not fattening. I think that the master of suspense might be on to something, don’t you think?”

A million images flash through my mind.

“You just gave me a great idea.” I bow my head as if in worship. “You’re
my
master now.”

“Hi, Jeffrey, I thought things through over the weekend and I’ve decided to play ball. But only if you do me a small favour.”

Faking pleasantries with Jeffrey is impossible right now, but I need to make sure I’ve got everything documented. I put him on speakerphone and turn on the Dictaphone.

“Sure, baby, whatever it is, you got it.”

“A good friend’s brother is studying to become a software engineer in India and desperately needs a job to pay for his tuition. Can Browser hire him?”

“Absolutely. We’re always on the lookout for fresh talent. Consider it done.”