Just Friends With Benefits (4 page)

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Authors: Meredith Schorr

BOOK: Just Friends With Benefits
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I wanted to hang out with him alone, too, but as far as I knew, my boss had no plans to send me to New York anytime soon. Maybe if I asked him, he’d let me go. I couldn’t tell him I wanted to go because I liked a guy there, but I had an idea.

 

Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get to work. I looked at the clock radio on my night table. I wished it was time to wake up already but the bright green numbers on the display reflected that it was only 12:17. I turned over on my side and tried to relax. I couldn’t, so I put on the free sleep mask I got when I flew to Prague with my friend Suzanne and hoped it would release the pressure under my eyes. I probably looked like the lone ranger but since I was alone, I didn’t care. I still couldn’t fall asleep, removed the mask and looked at the clock again. It was 12:26. I thought about what I would wear if I met Hille in New York for dinner. Would he believe I was coincidentally sent to New York so quickly after he mentioned it? He was a guy and probably wouldn’t give it a second thought. Sometimes I wished I was a guy so I wouldn’t think so much. Guys cared about three things: food, sports and sex. I wished I had a penis, a big penis, of course. And balls I could adjust while sitting on my couch with a beer watching baseball.

 

I didn’t really want to be a boy. I’d probably be a girly man since I cried at commercials all the time and couldn’t program my remote control or change the bag on my vacuum cleaner, but I did like the idea of not thinking so much. And if I was a guy, I’d probably have fallen sleep already.

 

 

 

 

 
Four
 

 

 

When I arrived at work at 8:30 the next morning, I took the long way from the elevator bank to my office. Although the entrance to the right of the elevators was closer to my office, the entrance to the left was closer to Gerard’s and I wanted to make sure he was in. He was already sitting at his desk reading a paper, his John Lennon glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, while drinking what looked from the outside of the cup like coffee from one of the sidewalk vendors. After devising my plan of attack into the wee hours of the night, I couldn’t wait to talk to him, but I did. I hated being bothered first thing in the morning, before I finished my coffee or sometimes even took off my coat, so I refused to do that to Gerard. Instead, I drank my coffee and looked at my emails, stopping every few minutes to check the time on my phone. I decided to call him at 10:33 because it seemed more random than 10:30.

 

It wasn’t even nine when I finished reading and printing my emails. As a senior corporate paralegal, I had my own office, so I took advantage of the time by practicing my speech out loud with my office door closed. I didn’t want it to sound too rehearsed, though, so I stopped at 9:45 and prepared a closing binder. At 10:32, I stared at my phone until 10:33 when I picked it up and dialed 7190, Gerard’s extension.

 

Seemingly in good spirits, Gerard answered the phone and said, “Good morning, Stephanie.”

 

“Good morning to you, too. How was your weekend?” I instantly wished I could take back the second part since, as nice as he was, Gerard and I didn’t really talk about non-business stuff. And besides, if he asked about my weekend, I couldn’t exactly tell him I got really drunk.

 

“And how was yours?” Gerard was saying.

 

“Very good, thanks.”

 

“So, what can I help you with this morning?”

 

Pulling a stray hair from the side of my ponytail and twisting it into a knot, I said, “Actually, I wondered if I could speak to you when you had a moment. No rush.” But please let’s do it now.

 

“Sure. Why don’t you come by now?”

 

“Great. I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, I removed my hair from the ponytail and brushed it straight. Then I checked my reflection in my metal letter opener. It was kind of blurry but clear enough to confirm I didn’t have lip gloss on my teeth. I grabbed my legal pad and a pen and headed to Gerard’s office.

 

He was on the phone, but motioned for me to sit in his guest chair. “I love you, too” he whispered before hanging up and turning his attention to me. He smiled and said, “So, Steph, what did you want to see me about?”

 

I felt my heart pulsating beneath my black sweater. I had chosen black in case I started sweating. “Well, in preparation for my annual review, I’ve been thinking about some goals I’d like to set for myself.” I paused and waited for Gerard’s reaction.

 

“That’s great, Stephanie! Anything you’d like to share now?”

 

“Actually, I’d really like your feedback.”

 

His hands locked behind his head, Gerard said, “Shoot.”

 

“Well, I’ve been working here for over six years now and I’ve definitely learned a lot. I really like working for Bartlett, Pinker and Wood and would like to continue my tenure here.”

 

Gerard laughed and said, “Well, I’m pleased to hear that. You’re an asset to the department and I wouldn’t want you to leave us.”

 

I didn’t feel I deserved the compliment, considering my current act of manipulation and I felt a pang of remorse. But I had to go on. “Well, since I’m not looking to go to law school, my concern is that I’ll stop learning new things. I need to be challenged to feel good about myself and my contribution to the firm. So, I’d really like your suggestions as to how I can prevent my job from getting stale and I’ve also come up with a few of my own.”

 

“I’m sure I can think of some ways to keep things fresh, but let’s hear what you’ve got,” Gerard said.

 

I looked at my legal pad on which I had made a list of goals. “I’d like, if possible, to increase my direct contact with clients. Obviously, it will depend on the subject matter but I really don’t think all contact needs to be through an attorney and since my billing rate is lower, the clients would probably appreciate it. And, it would show that the firm has confidence in my written and verbal communication abilities.”

 

Gerard didn’t saying anything and so I continued. “And I’d be interested in mentoring some of the entry level paralegals. As an experienced paralegal and one who has worked at BP&W for awhile, I think it would be helpful to them and interesting for me as well.” I looked up at Gerard.

 

Playing with the cap of his pen, he nodded and said, “Anything else?”

 

“Just one more,” I said. I gripped the legal pad more firmly to keep my hands from trembling and licked my dry lips. Gerard was slouching in his chair and so I focused on his gangly legs which were stretched out under his desk and said, “I really enjoy working on closings. Being involved in so many aspects of a deal, it’s great to actually help close it. If possible, I’d like to attend more closings.” Almost finished, Stephanie. Don’t quit now. “I know most of our bigger deals close in the New York office and I wondered if you might consider sending me there again to help out. Traveling always keeps things fresh.”

 

I let the legal pad drop into my lap and, feeling a rush of relief to be finished, said, “That’s it!”

 

Gerard was beaming at me so brightly, I knew I had done good and wondered if my childhood aspiration to be an actress wasn’t something I should have taken more seriously. “Well, Stephanie, I’m very pleased that you’ve taken such initiative. I’ll keep everything you said in mind. I’m pretty certain all can be arranged.”

 

I waited for him to go into details but he just looked at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. I took his silence as a sign that the meeting was over, stood up and said, “Okay. Thanks for listening to me, Gerard. I appreciate it.”

 

“And I appreciate you and all you do. See you later.”

 

As I walked out of his office and back to mine, I felt totally stupid for thinking he might actually send me to New York on the spot. I wondered what exactly I had accomplished as a result of our meeting. I’d probably wind up mentoring a bunch of teeny-boppers whose only prior employment experience was babysitting. And I’d start receiving phone calls from asshole clients who thought their shit smelled like cherry blossoms. But, with my luck, I’d never attend a closing in New York ever again.

 

When I got back to my office, I closed the door and tried not to mope. My plan had totally tanked but there was really nothing I could do except proceed with Plan B. That meant I had to come up with a Plan B. I wished I could just insert “how can I see Hille again sooner rather than later?” into www.ask.com. For shits and giggles, I tried it. The first ten results were references to the phrase “sooner, not later.” I tried Google and got the same results. Giggling, I debated whether to try Dogpile or Yahoo next when I heard a knock on my door. I quickly maximized the window for Moodys.com, the ever-popular business information site, said, “Come in” and tried to look professional.

 

It was Gerard and I prayed that three fresh-faced young paralegals were not standing behind him waiting to be mentored. I sat up straighter in my chair in an attempt to slickly see who he was with and said, “Hi, Gerard.”

 

“Hi again. I wanted to talk to you about something.” He was alone.

 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” I looked around, hoping he wouldn’t notice the obscene amounts of paperwork cluttering my office.

 

Gerard sat in my guest chair and smiled at me before saying, “I see you’re keeping busy.”

 

“Gotta keep those billables up!” I joked. I guessed he noticed the obscene amounts of paperwork cluttering my office.

 

“Well, hopefully, you’re not overwhelmed.”

 

Paralegals were, by definition, supposed to be overwhelmed, but since it was an unspoken rule not to admit it, I swallowed down the truth and responded, “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

 

“Well, coincidentally, I think we’ll be able to implement one of your new goals sooner rather than later.”

 

I tried not to laugh at his mention of ‘sooner rather than later’ and said, “Great!” as enthusiastically as I could muster, nearly certain whatever it was did not involve a trip to New York.

 

“How would you like to go to New York for a closing on Wednesday?”

 

Practically leaping out of my chair, I said, “You serious?” My pitch was a little higher than I had intended and so I sat back in my chair, cleared my throat and added, “I mean, absolutely. For what case?”

 

“The Franklin General deal. One of the paralegals on the case is on maternity leave and another is on her honeymoon. They were going to hire temps, but after we spoke this morning, I called and mentioned your willingness to travel. So, assuming your cases can lose you for a couple of days, you’re good to go.”

 

I calmly responded, “Great. I just need to work out the logistics, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Is two days enough notice for Hille? What if he already has plans?

 

“The associate on the deal in New York is Adam Ginsberg. Call him for details.”

 

“Will do. Anything else?”
What should I wear at dinner?

 

“Nope. You can use the firm’s travel agent to get a round trip ticket on the shuttle and a hotel room for a couple of nights.”

 

“Great. I’ll do that right away.”

 

Gerard stood up and said, “Well, that’s that. Thanks, Stephanie.”

 

I was smiling so hard my face hurt. “Thank you! I’m so grateful for your support.”

 

As soon as Gerard left, I stood up, closed the door and did a victory dance around my office. Then I called Adam from the New York office and got the details regarding the closing. After making my hotel and flight reservations, I went to call Hille. I scrolled through my phone’s address book for his number and realized I had never entered him into my phone. I considered getting his number from Paul but if he decided to spontaneously fly to New York to join us at dinner, I’d be pissed. I decided to call Eric instead, since he had a wife at home and was far less likely to pick up and travel to New York with two days notice.

 

He picked up after one ring. “Yo.”

 

“Hey, Eric. It’s Stephanie.”

 

“I know that. If I didn’t have caller i.d., I wouldn’t answer the phone, ‘yo’.”

 

“Gotcha. So, what’s going on?” I couldn’t believe I was actually nervous to ask Eric for Hille’s number but aimed to sound as casual as possible—just hoping to meet a friend for dinner—no big deal.

 

“Not much. What’s wrong?” he asked.

 

“Nothing, why?”

 

“You sound weird. Nervous or something. What’s up?”

 

I spit out the piece of finger nail I had just bitten off. “Not nervous. Just really busy at work. Found out I’m being sent to New York for a closing. Leaving late tomorrow. I wanted to call Hille and see if he’s available to go to dinner with me on Wednesday. Do you have his number?”

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