Romantically Challenged (27 page)

“Your personal life I mean,” he added. “Not just work.”

What was he up to? Normally, his only concern about my personal life was that it didn’t interfere with my billable hours. “That’s fine too.”

“I heard about your boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” It was at least possible that he didn’t know about Noah.

“I realize that you might think it’s none of my business, but as senior partner, I have a right to be concerned about the welfare of my associates.”

“Bruce, what are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend,” he said. “The guy from the Lakers game.”

I was going to kill Greg. The only person I knew who had a bigger mouth than Greg was Rosenthal. Now the entire firm would know about me and Noah, assuming they didn’t already. My only hope was a convincing lie. “Bruce, I appreciate your concern, but he wasn’t my boyfriend. He’s just a friend. Actually, I’ve suspected for quite a while that he might be gay. That’s why I never dated him.”

It must’ve worked because Rosenthal looked relieved. “Good,” he said. “Glad to hear it. Does that mean you’re not seeing anyone?”

None of your damn business. “Why?”

“Because if you’re not, I thought you should reconsider my suggestion about
First Date
.”

I fought to keep my voice from rising. “Bruce, the answer’s no. I like to keep my private life private.” Or at least between me and my friends.

“I understand, but I think it would be a really good opportunity for you.”

You mean a good opportunity for you. “I doubt that, and it won’t help the firm either. Greg told me he talked about his job for hours, but the editors cut it all out. All they want to air is the sexy stuff.”

“I think it would be different this time.”

“Why?”

“I played golf with the show’s general counsel over the weekend. He thinks we may be able to work out an arrangement. If someone from the firm went on the show again, he said he’d make sure some of the work talk aired in exchange for a break on legal fees.”

“Bruce, I’m not going to prostitute myself on national television just so you can get some free publicity.”

“It would be publicity for you too you know. We would all benefit.”

I just pressed my lips together and glared at him. I figured whatever came out of my mouth at this point would only get me fired. Which I was starting to think might not be such a bad idea, when Rosenthal looked at his watch and stood up.

“I’m late for a meeting,” he said. “Just think about it.”

“I’ve thought about it and my answer is no.”

Rosenthal shook his head. “Remember, Julia, it’s not good to bite the hand that lays the golden egg.”  

I wasn’t even going to guess at what that was supposed to mean. Instead, I waited for him to leave then counted backwards from ten while taking deep cleansing breaths. Neither calmed me down, so I walked next door to Simone’s office. “You’re not going to believe this!”

No matter how much Simone laughed, I didn’t see the humor in this one. She finally had to pacify me by telling me about Marty. His full name was Edmund Martin Kale III, but everyone called him Marty. According to Simone, he was thirty-three years old, single, good-looking, and best of all, not gay. He worked with Todd at the stock brokerage firm and Todd had invited him to Thanksgiving dinner at his mother’s house so he could introduce him to me.

“You’re still coming, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.” Since I had just seen my parents in September, I figured I was off the hook to visit them until spring.

“Good. This will be perfect. You’ll meet Marty, he’ll ask you out, the two of you will start dating, and a year from now we’ll be planning your wedding.”

If only it were that easy.

The last item on my day’s To Do list was to call Joe and apologize. If it wasn’t for Joe, I wouldn’t have learned the truth about Noah, or at least not so quickly.

“Don’t hang up,” I said when he picked up the phone.

“Why not?” Joe asked, his voice tinged with anger. “I believe the last thing you said to me was something like you never wanted to speak to me again.”

“Actually, what I told you was to lose my number,” then quickly added, “but I called to apologize.”

A short silence, followed by, “I’m listening.”

“You were right about Noah. Or half right.” I relayed the events of Sunday evening.

Joe’s response was, “It serves you right for not trusting me.”

I could just imagine his self-satisfied grin. I almost objected, but stopped myself. He earned the I-told-you-so. “In the future, I’ll know better.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Now he was pushing it. “Well, thanks again. I really do appreciate it.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Excuse me.” 

“How much do you appreciate it?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how to quantify it.”

“Enough to take me out to dinner?”

Hmmm. Looks like we’re not done here after all. “I don’t know. You were only half right. I don’t have my actuarial chart in front of me, but I think a partially correct warning may only entitle you to a lunch.”

“I’ll take it.”

We agreed to meet when Joe returned to L.A. Unlike me, Joe had decided to fly back east to spend Thanksgiving with his family.

Thanksgiving

I was thankful that the grocery store was open on Thanksgiving Day. I stopped to pick up a bottle of wine on my way to Simone’s house. I didn’t want to arrive at her future mother-in-law’s home empty handed.

The plan was that I would meet Simone at her and Todd’s place, then Todd would drive the three of us to his mother’s house. Simone said she thought I’d be more comfortable arriving with the two of them, rather than alone, which was true. What Simone didn’t say was that with me there, she’d have an excuse to leave early. That was also true.

I circled Simone’s block three times, but I couldn’t find a parking space anywhere. I would’ve thought that when you pay over eight-hundred-thousand dollars for a two-bedroom condominium in Brentwood, it would come with a guest parking space. I was wrong.

I called Simone from the car and she came downstairs and waited with me in the red zone. Todd pulled his BMW X-5 out of the garage a few minutes later and I pulled into his parking space. Simone and I climbed into the SUV and we took off in the direction of Bel Air. Poor Simone. Not only was she getting an interfering mother-in-law, she was getting one that only lived ten minutes away. 

The security guard stopped us at the entrance to the gated community. The guard checked Todd’s name off his list and waved us in. We wound our way along a wide, tree-lined street with a disappointing view. All the houses we passed were set far back on their properties, most behind tall shrubs and fences. When I was lucky, I caught a glimpse of a second story window. Apparently, this was how the other half lived. Maybe I’d been too hasty with Richie Rich.

Todd turned off the main road onto a long circular driveway. The outer edge was lined with parked cars. They were mostly Mercedes and BMWs with the occasional Porsche or Jaguar in between. I was glad I’d left my Acura in Simone’s garage.

What surprised me was that the house wasn’t bigger. It was large, but not a mansion. The facade was light gray stone with rows of black shuttered windows on either side of the double front door. In most parts of the country, a house like this would probably cost $300,000. In Bel Air, it was worth ten times that much.

The interior was much more impressive. The marble foyer was flanked on the left by a living room about twice the size of my apartment and on the right by a study that was almost as large. A maid disappeared with our coats and Todd led us into the living room where a handful of guests were gathered. The three of us were the only ones under fifty.

I hung back near the entrance with Simone while Todd ventured deep into the interior. Simone nodded in the direction of a well-preserved woman wearing diamond earrings large enough to be visible from across the room. “That’s his mother,” Simone whispered.

She didn’t look anything like the drawing I’d tacked to Simone’s dart board. With the Botox injections, the salon highlights, and a size six figure maintained with the assistance of a personal pilates trainer, she looked like a woman in her early fifties. Simone told me she was actually sixty-four.

Todd hugged his mother and she kissed his cheek, then Todd led her over to where Simone and I were standing.

“Hello Grace,” Simone said to her future mother-in-law. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Todd’s mother leaned in and air kissed Simone. “It’s so nice to see you, dear. I’m surprised you remembered how to get here.”

“I didn’t,” Simone said, “Todd drove.” Then she introduced me.

Todd’s mother gave me a limp handshake and a phony smile. I tried to hand her the bottle of wine I’d brought, but she’d already linked her arm through Todd’s. “Just put that in the kitchen, dear,” she said, barely glancing at the bottle. “Simone can take you there.”

“Come with me, honey,” she said beaming at her son. “I have some people I want you to meet.”

Todd and his mother disappeared into the far corners of the living room and I followed Simone back to the foyer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?” she said.

I sensed a rant coming. “Maybe we should just open the wine.”

* * *

Simone led me down the hallway to the kitchen where she yanked open drawers and slammed them closed until a bartender appeared with a cork screw. He opened the wine and poured Simone and I each a glass. When he started to walk away with the bottle, Simone pulled it out of his hand. Then she led me and the wine bottle on a tour of the house.

Simone walked me through the dining room and the den and then led me upstairs to the five bedrooms. We stopped in the master and Simone walked around the room pouring drops of red wine onto the white carpet.

“Ooops,” she said. “Sometimes I’m just so clumsy.”

“You’re wasting your time. You know she’s just going to call someone to clean the carpet. It’s not like your mother-in-law is going to be down on her hands and knees scrubbing out those stains.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said and downed the rest of her wine. “Maybe I should steal her jewelry instead.”

“Simone!”

“I’m kidding. But I need to do something to get back at her.”

“You already have.”

“What?”

“You’ve taken her darling baby boy away from her.”

“True,” she said and grinned. “But it’s not enough.”

We went back downstairs and Simone walked me around the grounds pointing out the garden, the pool, and the tennis courts. By the time we returned to the house, it had filled up. The kids and their nannies were ensconced in the den, the living room still held the over-fifty crowd, and the younger set was in the study watching football. Someone had finally opened the credenza and uncovered the large screen TV.

I followed Simone into the study and sat on the chair across from her when she sat down on the couch next to Todd. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded. At the next commercial, Todd left with his empty glass and returned a few minutes later with a refill and a man with dark blond hair wearing black pants and a burgundy sweater. The man was probably 5’10,” but looked short compared to Todd’s 6’4” frame.

Todd introduced me to Marty and we shook hands, then Marty sat down on the couch with Todd and the two of them watched the game. After being ignored for two more commercial breaks, I left for a refill on my wine. Simone had already finished our bottle and it looked like it was going to be a long, dull afternoon.

Simone followed me into the kitchen, and as soon as we were out of hearing range said, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s pretty clear he’s not interested in me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because he’s been ignoring me for the last half hour.”

“No, he hasn’t. He’s just watching the game.”

“He’s not watching the game during the commercials.”

“That’s when they catch up. You know guys don’t talk when they’re watching football.”

“They just saw each other yesterday. What do they have to say?”

“I’m sure Todd’s having exactly the same conversation with Marty that I’m having with you. Marty’s probably wondering why you’re not talking to him.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’ll see,” she said. “I’ll make sure the two of you sit next to each other at dinner. Then you can get acquainted without distractions.”

* * *

“I hear you’re a top notch litigator,” Marty said during the first of our five courses.

Flattery was always a good start. “I try. And you’re a financial wizard, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Which works out really well for me because I have no other skills.”

“None?” I asked with a suggestive look. I really needed to stop drinking the wine.

Marty leaned in a little closer and I was mesmerized by his perfectly aligned teeth. Not even one was slightly crooked. “Actually,” he said, “I have a few, but they can’t be discussed in mixed company.” Then he nodded toward the older woman and her ten-year-old grandson whom Simone had seated on his right.

I don’t know if it was the sexual innuendo or the lack of interesting alternative dinner companions, but Marty spent the entire meal chatting me up. He was actually very funny and had a great laugh. His sense of humor made him more attractive. Or it could’ve been the wine.

After coffee and dessert, Simone decided that I’d had long enough to get to know Marty. She grabbed me and Todd for a post-meal getaway. When Marty saw us with our coats on, he said he needed to leave too.

The four of us walked out together, but once we were outside,  Simone made sure she and Todd stayed ten paces behind.

“I had a great time today,” Marty said.

“Me too,” I replied. “If this stockbroker thing doesn’t work out for you, you could always try standup comedy.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” In my inebriated state, I really did.

“I’m leaving for Colorado tomorrow, skiing with some buddies, but I’d love to see you again when I get back.”