Legally Wed: A Lawyers in Love Novella (8 page)

“Isn’t having to go to fundraisers on weekends going to interfere with your social life?”

“This is it.” She snorted and held out her arms. “Welcome to my social life.”

“What happened to that photographer you were dating? He seemed pretty sexy and he was creative and artistic.”

“He was. And very dedicated to his art too. In fact, he was willing to invest a lot of money traveling the globe to capture the perfect picture.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked and sipped my very yummy apple martini.

“He wanted it to come from my trust fund.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Just like all the guys I’ve been dating lately, in the end he was more interested in my money and my family connections than anything else.”

“That really sucks. I wish you would meet someone interested in you for yourself. You’re so talented and witty.”

“You’re sweet. At this point, though, I would even be happy just for a hot guy who just wanted me for my body. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex I think my vagina is going to break up with me.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of hot guys who would be happy to give you a fun night with no strings attached. Getting laid should be easy for you.”

“When your father’s a senator, you have to be extra careful. You never know what kind of wack-jobs may be out there. And even though Braden and Drew could do anything they wanted, I also have to be more discreet. Gotta love the double standard.”

“Ah, I hadn’t thought of that. That must be tough. Too bad you’re off limits to Mark.”

“Yeah, no kidding, but Braden would probably freak if he ever found out.”

“He might not care if you were dating.”

“I don’t think Mark’s a dater.” She laughed. “I would love to have even one hot night with him, though. Oh well,” she said wistfully and took another sip of her drink.

I made a decision, even though she might get mad at me, I felt like I should tell her about the conversation the other night. I took a deep breath and launched into the whole story. She covered her mouth when I told her about Bruno and my vibrator and her eyes widened when I got to the part about Mark, but I stressed what Adam said, that for a guy who wasn’t looking for that he seemed kind of interested.

“Do you hate me?” I asked nervously.

“Hate you? No, silly. All you said was that you thought he and I would make a good couple. That’s no big deal. It’s not like you said ‘Beth likes you’,” she joked.

“She wants to make out with you.” I laughed.

“She wants to do a lot more than make out with him.” Now she was laughing too.

“Seriously, what’s the big deal? You’re both adults. Neither one of you is really looking for a serious relationship. He would be safe and it could be discreet.”

“And he’s probably got some mad skills in bed,” she added wiggling her eyebrows.

“Why can’t you just spend one great night together and not tell Braden?”

“Well, I’m fairly sure that he would never suggest it; so it would be up to me to make the first move, and even if I did, I’m not sure he would agree. I don’t know. I’ve never really been much of a siren or a femme fatale, or even all that daring. I would have to give it some thought.”

After that we started talking about other things like my writing and her painting, a new exhibit coming to the art museum where she used to work, my job as a prosecutor, and the wedding. Talking to Beth about it didn’t stress me out, though. She was wonderfully supportive. I confessed what effect the anxiety was having on my libido and she thought it was hilarious.

“Poor Adam! He’ll be exhausted before you know it,” she teased.

When I polished off my second martini, I told her about the dining room table and the cranberry sauce. We giggled like crazy and she told me she was horribly jealous because her Thanksgiving dinner hadn’t been nearly as interesting. But then, of course, I was thinking about him again. I had done such a good job up until that point.

Beth picked up on the shift in my mood quickly. We had already been there for almost two hours and had each downed two martinis. There was no shame in leaving at that point. I decided that I really enjoyed hanging out with Beth, though, and if she would just get together with Mark eventually, life would be perfect.

I let myself back into the apartment, tossed the keys on the entry table and hung up my coat. Then I wandered to the living-room and over to a bookshelf. I was planning to just read until Adam got home. What I didn’t realize was that he was already home. There was just one table lamp turned on low and I didn’t see him lying on the sofa; so when he spoke, I jumped about three feet in the air.

“Did you have fun?”

“Jesus, Adam. You startled me.” I let out a deep breath and put my hand over my racing heart. “That’s the second time I’ve encountered you sitting in a dark room when I’ve gone looking for a book.”

I walked over to the sofa and sat down on the edge next to him. He took my hand and started rubbing it with his thumb. Then he sat up and gave me a hot, passionate kiss, his lips moving over mine and his tongue exploring my mouth boldly. When he pulled back, I nearly swooned. “What was that for?” I asked breathlessly.

“I didn’t get to do it the first time,” he said with a smile, reminding me of our almost kiss that night in the cabin in the woods. I sighed. Not only did I love Adam, I think I still had a crush on him too.

“Why are you here?”

“I live here.”

“Why aren’t you still out with Mark, smartass?”

“We had a good time for a while and then I just kept thinking about how much you would like this or how much you would enjoy that. Mark said I was getting mopey.” He laughed.

“That’s why I’m home early too,” I admitted, reaching up and brushing a piece of hair off his forehead. “I think you would like Orient Express. We should go there together.”

“Yeah, that would be good. I was thinking, maybe Mark should date Beth. Then we could all hang out together. Because, you know, it’s all about us.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” I laughed. “Great self-absorbed minds …”

“So, Lily,” he said looking deeply into my eyes. “When do you want to get married?” My heart started pounding harder again. It was the first time Adam had actually brought it up.

“How about right after New Year’s?” I asked impulsively, realizing for the first-time that that’s what I wanted. I fidgeted and bit my bottom lip waiting for his reaction.

“That soon?” he asked, sounding surprised but not displeased. “I can understand how you would be eager to become Mrs. Adam Roth, but are you sure?”

“Is that too soon do you think?”

“Nah, not for me. I’ve been waiting twenty-three years for you, Fruit Roll-Up girl.”

“Me too, green glitter boy.” I paused and looked down at my hands, debating whether or not to confess something. I decided after a moment of reflection that I felt safe. “You know, when we graduated from high school, and you went to BU and I went to Tufts, there would be times when I would be in Boston and I would think I saw you and my pulse would shoot up and I would feel excited. It was never you, though. Stupid, huh?”

It was a small thing that I had confessed, nothing like telling him I had been fantasizing about him the first time I came, but somehow it was even harder to tell him. Sexual attraction was one thing, but admitting that, even then, I had deeper feelings for him made me feel more vulnerable. I kept staring at my fingers, twisting on my lap, wondering if he was imagining me as a pathetic schoolgirl.

“I used to look forward to going to synagogue when I was home on break because I was hoping to see you there. One week, I went twice. My sisters started calling me ‘rabbi’.” I looked up at him and my chest felt tight.

“Why didn’t we just …?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Now, we’re getting married and we are going to spend the rest of our lives together, blissfully bickering, bantering and banging.”

“Nice alliteration but we have to survive the wedding first.”

“We can hire that Mr. Jonathan guy and let him and our moms tackle the details. That should make them happy and then we won’t have to worry about it. I don’t care how we do it as long as I’m the groom and you’re the bride.”

“I want us to be involved. It’s our wedding. I refuse to let other people completely plan the most important day of our lives. It may be stressful, but we are going to do this our way. They just get to help.”

“Okay, here’s my involvement. We have to invite Josh Lieberman and Rob Bergen,” Adam said naming his two closest friends growing up. “They’ll never believe it.”

“And Sharon Jacobson and Marcy Kaplan, if she can make it home from Africa or wherever she is. And Shari Edelstein too, so I can say ‘look who gets to kiss him now, honey’.”

“Are you going to let me feel you up in the stairwell?” he teased.

“I’ll let you feel me up anywhere you want, baby,” I said giving him a lecherous look that made him laugh.

“I think Braden and Gabrielle are going to have their legal clinic open by February, so we can start off next year married and with new jobs. That’s pretty exciting.”

“Yeah, two big steps toward the future. Maybe we should eventually think about getting a bigger place too, since you seem convinced that we’ll have kids someday.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Hannah said we could come over and stay at her place overnight next weekend to watch Josh. She and Nate will stay a hotel Saturday night. She was very grateful and she didn’t even sound all that worried.”

“Foolish woman,” I joked and he laughed. “Maybe she’s blocked out the diaper incident. At least he’s probably potty trained though.”

“She’ll probably have my mom hidden in the house somewhere in case of emergency. Break glass for Bubbe,” he added, making me snort.

“Speaking of parents, I hope that my parents’ divorce is amicable. They’re both such aggressive people. I have this image of them snarling at each other as they walk me up the aisle.”

“Maybe Mr. Jonathan can hire us some stand-ins.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to elope?”

“Ask me again in a week.”

The next morning we informed “the mothers” as I had begun calling them, of our intention to be married in just over a month from then. You would have thought that we had announced the end of the world. There was general panic and much scrambling. My mother called to inform us that they were holding a meeting at our apartment at two PM and that Mr. Jonathan himself would be there. I felt like I had been subpoenaed. I figured that I might as well invite Bruce, since his idol would be making an appearance. When he heard the news he nearly fainted.

Adam and I had a relaxing morning, eating bagels and lox, sipping our coffee and sharing the paper. Meanwhile, I imagined that Deb and Judith were operating like they were at DEFCON One. I couldn’t wait to see what they had whipped together by two PM. Never underestimate two Jewish mothers planning a wedding.

Two o’clock rolled around much too quickly for my taste. Bruce arrived first. He was practically vibrating with excitement. He had also taken pains to look his best and he was all spiffed up. He floated through the front door like a butterfly and settled himself in a chair as if he had just ascended the throne… as Queen.

Adam’s mother was next with all three of her daughters and little Josh in tow. Hannah came in schlepping a purse big enough to hide in, a tote bag filled with toys, an insulated snack bag with Elmo on it and a kiddie sized toilet seat. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail; her blouse was buttoned wrong and she was wearing two different socks. Motherhood didn’t look very easy.

I guess it all depended on the mother and hood, though, because in glided my egg donor looking immaculately put together. She had someone in tow too. I think it may have been Liberace. Bruce flew to his feet, and for a moment, I worried that he would actually prostrate himself before his master.

“Don’t tell me, Mr. Jonathan, right?” Adam asked with a sunny smile.

I don’t know what tipped him off. Maybe it was the gray and purple madras slacks paired with the magenta cardigan. Perhaps, it was the silver and white fringed scarf thrown, devil-may-care, around his neck, or the cute beret set at a jaunty angle on his finely coiffed head.