Affirmation (5 page)

“I
can’t believe you just quit,” he mutters. “You know
the job market sucks out there for attorneys right now.”

“I
know. But I have an idea.”

Raising
his eyebrows at me, Cal takes a bite of his sub and waits for me to
explain.

Licking
a chunk of frosting off my finger, I say, “I’m going to
open my own firm. And I want you to be my partner.”

Cal
pauses chewing and just stares at me. I hold his stare, so he knows
I’m not kidding. He quickly swallows his food and wipes his
mouth. Pushing his sandwich aside, he leans across the table toward
me. “Are you serious?”

Okay,
at least his tone isn’t mocking me but he
is
in disbelief, so I need to convince him. “Yes. My mom was well
insured when she died. I’m willing to put some of that money
into opening up my own firm. And you are always telling me how you
want to switch from doing defense work to plaintiff’s work. So,
now is your chance. Plus, I have a really huge case, and I need help
with it. If we win it, it will be worth millions. And if we lose it…
well, I’ll need someone’s shoulder to cry on.”

Cal
takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, his lunch completely
forgotten. “Let’s say I even entertain this idea. When
would you want to do this?”

“In
two weeks… I’m ready to start as soon as I leave
Connover and Crown.”

“Jesus
Christ,” Cal mutters, scrubbing his hand through his hair.
“This case you’re talking about… tell me about
it.”

I
do one even better. I hand over the typed memorandum and eat my
cupcake while he reads it. When he’s done, he looks up. “Well,
the good news is, if I were to help you on this, at least my firm
doesn’t represent this particular insurance company so there
would be no conflict of interest for me to be involved in this case.”

Laying
the memorandum down, he reaches over and picks his sub back up.
“There’s a lot to consider. I mean, what type of firm
would we have, where would we locate it, what do we need to do to go
about setting it up? I mean… we need bank accounts, office
space, equipment…”

Reaching
down into my briefcase, I calmly hand over a thick document that I
stayed up all night working on. The cover says, “Business Plan,
Carson and Dawson, LLC”.

Cal
glances down at it, and his eyes widen in disbelief. “You got
to be kidding me. When did you do this?”

Shrugging
my shoulders, I say, “It’s just a little something I
whipped up last night.”

Giving
a huge bark of laughter, Cal sets his sub back down again and picks
up the business plan. He starts reading it and, because it will take
a while, I go ahead and get to work on my salad.

I
amuse myself by people watching, but amusement turns to sadness when
I see Matt walk in… with Kylie Wynn right behind him. She’s
talking animatedly toward him, and yup… there goes the classic
laying of her hand on his arm. Apparently, that move never gets old
for her.

After
they pay for their meals, which I take a small measure of glee in
noting that they paid separately, I watch as Matt scans the room,
looking for an open table. His eyes pass over Cal and me, not giving
much of a glance since our table isn’t empty.

But
then his eyes snap back to me, and our gazes lock.

We
stare at each other a moment and, for just a brief time, it’s
like nothing bad ever happened between us. There is still a palpable
connection, and our eyes hold all of those secrets. But then Matt’s
gaze flicks over to Cal, and his face hardens a tiny bit.

I
expect Matt to try to find a table as far away from us as he can, but
he surprises me when he walks over to us. When he’s only a few
feet away, I kick Cal under the table. He looks at me, and I nod over
his shoulder so he knows someone is approaching.

Cal
turns slightly and sees Matt and Kylie.

“Matt,”
Cal says with a nod of his head.

Matt
is ever polite, because he has to be since he and Cal deal with each
other in the professional world. Matt nods back and introduces Kylie.
While Cal makes small talk with Kylie for a few moments, I see Matt’s
eyes glance down at the business plan I had just handed Cal. He sees
the words Carson and Dawson, LLC clear as day. I watch his face
carefully so I can gauge how this will affect him. I mean, it’s
truly none of his business, but I imagine this would piss him off
royally.

He
does nothing more than bring his eyes up to mine though. They look
sad for just a flash, and then he gives me a small smile.

I’m
not sure if that is approval or just general acceptance, but he
didn’t react the way I expected him to.

After
some quick goodbyes, Matt and Kylie seek out their own table and Cal
and I return to talking about logistics.

Matt
and I are flying back to New York from Atlanta. He had me, once
again, attend some depositions with him so I could take notes, while
he meticulously picked apart witness after witness. He sprung this
trip on me at the beginning of the week, telling me three of the last
four days of my employment would be spent with him in the Peach State
on a medical malpractice case.

We
just finished a long day of depositions and made it to the airport
with a little bit of time to spare before we boarded the eight PM
flight into JFK.

I’m
not angry to be here. In fact, it gave me another few days to observe
the legal brilliance of Matthew Connover. And yes, I got to observe
the hotness of him, too, which is always nice, although it made me a
little nostalgic. Just looking at Matt in a custom-made, tailored
suit was worth the trip.

While
leaving his firm is truly the best decision for my own peace of mind,
I am going to miss being able to see his gorgeous face.

And
that magnificent body.

And
that brilliant mind.

And
fuck, that just makes me sad, but it is what it is.

Matt
has been strange since I gave my notice. I expected him to be cold
and aloof. Rather, he treats me with the utmost respect, and I even
see flashes of his easygoing humor. Sometimes, there will be brief
moments when we are talking about a case, and I will forget how badly
I’m hurting. I can see he forgets it too, because sometimes I
see warmth in his eyes. Sometimes, I’ve even seen lust, which
affects me on a whole other level I’d rather not think about.
It doesn’t help that I have dirty dreams of him almost every
night, and my poor vibrator is just not measuring up.

While
we were in Atlanta, he was very professional. We worked each day
together, spending seven to eight hours straight in depositions. We
usually had dinner together at night in the hotel restaurant, where
we would continue to work… going over my notes for the day and
strategizing on how to best attack the next day’s deponents. We
would say goodnight in the elevator, and we both went to sleep alone.

It
was truly the employer-employee relationship we should have had all
along.

But
I’m not gonna lie… it was extremely unsatisfying,
knowing what I used to have.

Now,
as wait for our flight to board, there is no work to prepare for the
next day so we have to rely on general conversation to get us
through. I’m nervous, because so far, Matt and I have been able
to get along by keeping things on a professional level. I’m
trying to think of something interesting to say when Matt takes the
lead.

“I’m
releasing Kylie Wynn from her contract on the
Pearson
appeal.”

“Really?”
I ask with extreme curiosity. “I thought she was an expert or
something.”

Matt
sort of grunts and picks at an imaginary piece of lint on his dress
pants. “I really just needed the extra pair of hands more than
anything. I know as much about appellate law as she does. I was just
short on time. Besides… she got a little, uh… too
personal with me.”

Now
I’m surprised. Surprised that Matt admits this to me, and I
have to wonder why.

“I
kind of saw that coming,” I tell him. “What did she do?”

He
shrugs his shoulders and sighs. “Just made a pass at me in my
office. I mean… a
really
awkward pass.”

The
giggle that pops out is unintended. “What is it with you and
female lawyers? First Lorraine… and now Kylie. You’re
like a magnet.”

We
both chuckle, and then Matt’s gaze sort of focuses in on me
with a somber look. “You were actually first… then
Lorraine, and then Kylie. But you were in a different league than
they were.”

His
words warm me—that he is at least validating that I was
different. That I was more.

I
just wasn’t enough though.

Clearing
his throat, he brings me back out of my rumination. “I brought
up the thing about Kylie because I was wondering if you would like to
contract with me to help me on the
Pearson
appeal?”

“What?”
I ask, utterly shocked.

“I
saw the business plan Cal was reading that day at lunch. I assume you
two are going to start your own law firm together?”

Cal
and I did indeed decide to go for it. We’ve met several times
to iron out the details and, starting next week, we open the doors to
Carson and Dawson. We’re each going to fund fifty percent of
the startup costs and be equal partners. I’m excited but scared
as shit, because I’m risking a lot of my inheritance on this.

Matt
doesn’t sound in the least bit perturbed by my new venture,
which actually makes sense. He didn’t want me to have anything
to do with Cal when we were a couple. Now that we’re not, he
clearly doesn’t care.

“Yes,”
I confirm to him. “We are starting up a firm. While I would
need to talk to Cal about it first, I’d love to be able to do
some contract work for you. As you know, I really only have one case
to my name.”

The
smile that Matt gives me is surreal. It’s reminiscent of the
smiles I used to get when we were at our happiest, and it causes a
tiny jolt of longing to shoot through my heart.

“Excellent,”
he says. “We can discuss the details tomorrow before you
leave.”

We’re
called to board and, after we take our seats, the conversation
actually seems to flow as if there was never anything harsh, sad, or
bitter between us. It seems Matt has made peace with the way things
are, and while I’m still in mourning over my loss of him, it’s
amazing to me that we can be together like this… in a friendly
manner.

I
suppose that has to do with the fact that neither one of us really
screwed the other over. We just came to a quick realization that
neither one of us wanted the same thing. So, yes… I’m
very, very sad that Matt isn’t my lover anymore. But I also
don’t hold it against him. He tried for me. He tried to give me
what I asked for, but he just wasn’t very good at it.

How
can you fault someone for at least trying?

Matt
and I share a cab from JFK. It’s just past midnight when it
pulls up to my apartment building.

“Pop
the trunk,” Matt tells the cabbie, and he steps out to help me
with my luggage.

After
pulling my suitcase out, he shuts the trunk and turns to me. “I’ll
see you tomorrow morning.”

I
smile at him, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out
and brush a lock of his hair from his forehead. “Okay. See you
tomorrow.”

I
start to turn toward my building when Matt’s hand reaches out
and grabs my wrist. Turning to look at him, I’m almost knocked
over by the look on his face. It’s an arrangement of emotions
that Matt never dares to share with me. There’s confusion,
loneliness, and uncertainty—everything that would make someone
like Matt extremely vulnerable.

I
raise my eyebrows at him, and he seems to be at a loss for words. But
then he quickly recovers, because this is Matt Fucking Connover and
he’s never truly without his prose.

“Let
me come in with you?” he asks in a low voice that is laced with
sensual promise and just a hint of desperation.