Romantically Challenged (32 page)

“What about Marty?” Simone asked. “Didn’t you two have a date this weekend?”

I told her about Marty’s phone message and she said, “That’s too bad. Although it does explain the one he left at our house asking if he could bring someone to the wedding. I didn’t really understand it at the time, since I remembered telling him at Thanksgiving that you didn’t have a date.”

“Simone, you promised not to interfere.”

“I only told him because he asked if there were going to be any other single people at the wedding.”

“Well, are there?”

Simone thought about it for a minute. “Todd’s cousin Christine. I know she’s not bringing anyone.”

“Men, I mean.”

She shook her head. “Greg and Marty would’ve been the only ones. Do you want me to tell Marty it’s too late to add another guest?”

“No, after the way he blew me off, I don’t want him as my date anyway.”

“Then you should definitely bring someone else.”

“Like who?” At this point, I didn’t even have any potential dates.

“How about the bartender?”

“Joe? The guy who went on a date with me in the afternoon and then another woman at night?”

“I thought you said yours wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t, but that’s not the point. He was definitely on a date with someone else that evening.”

“So what?” Simone said. “It was just a date. It doesn’t mean she’s his girlfriend. You’ve gone on twenty-five dates and you still don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Don’t be so sensitive. I only meant that just because you saw him out on a date, doesn’t mean he’s not available.”

I told Simone about my phone call to Joe on Friday night.

“So what? You don’t even know if it was the same woman. She could’ve been some friend of his that stopped by to pick him up.”

I stared at her incredulously. I could tell by the smile she was trying to suppress that even she didn’t believe that one.

“Did he call you back?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I haven’t returned yet.”

“Well, here’s your opportunity. You can call him and ask him to the wedding.”

Will He or Won’t He

I had just shut my office door when the phone started ringing. I stood in the hallway with my coat on and my briefcase in my hand and debated with myself. It might be Joe. I’d left him a message earlier in the day and I needed to talk to him before I lost my nerve. I unlocked the door and ran to the phone. It wasn’t Joe. It was Mark Parsons.

We made small talk while I scanned my list of active cases. If I was working on a matter for Rosebud, I certainly couldn’t remember it.

“So the real reason I called,” Mark finally said, “was to see if you’re free for lunch.”

I wasn’t expecting that. The last time we’d even spoken was when we’d bumped into each other at the movie premiere. He’d been cordial, but not effusive. “Sure. Is this business or pleasure?”

“A little of both.”

Now I was intrigued. “Care to elaborate?”

“No, I’d rather keep you in suspense.”

I agreed to meet Mark Friday afternoon at The Barn, the newest overpriced power restaurant on the west side. I certainly hoped Mark would be paying. Rosenthal would kill me if I tried to expense a $100 lunch, even if it was for his favorite client.

On the drive home I played out various scenarios in my head, but I couldn’t come up with a satisfactory explanation for the lunch meeting. After listening to another five messages from assorted psychos on my answering machine, I called Kaitlyn.

She concluded that I needed to switch to an unlisted phone number and the only reason Mark Parsons could possibly want to have lunch with me was because he was going to offer me a job.

“It’s obvious,” she said.

It wasn’t obvious to me. “Why would you think that?”

“What else could it be? If it was a new case, he would’ve told you about it over the phone so you could get started right away. Or more likely, he would’ve called Rosenthal.”

“Maybe he just wants to say thank you for my work on the sexual harassment case. I did get a good result.”

“No way. That was over three months ago and he would’ve invited Rosenthal too. If he wants to meet with you alone, it’s definitely about a job.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I couldn’t come up with a better rationale. “I can’t change jobs now. I’m up for partnership next year.”

“That’s ridiculous. You would turn down a great opportunity now because Rosenthal might make you a partner a year from now?”

“The only reason I’ve stuck it out this long is because I want to be partner. I’m not going to bail now when I’ve only got one more year to go.” Of course, there were no guarantees that Rosenthal was going to make me a partner. But I had to at least try, didn’t I?

“You’re making a mistake, but it’s your life.”

* * *

The upside of spending a sleepless night worrying about whether turning down the job that Mark Parsons hadn’t offered me yet would be the biggest mistake of my life was that when Joe called me back at work the next day, I was too exhausted to be nervous. I told him the real story behind my
Hollywood Tonight
episode, with minor modifications. I added that I’d only joined Just A Date to appease my mother. Joe had never met my mother, but he knew the type.

I didn’t ask Joe about Barbie or if she was the woman at his house Friday night, and he didn’t offer any explanation. Nor did he ask me about Steve. Apparently we’d adopted the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. I knew it was better that way, but I was still curious.

After we’d exhausted all the safe subjects, I eased into the wedding question by asking him if he was going home for the holidays.

“No,” Joe said. “I just went home for Thanksgiving. I’m staying in L.A. for Christmas so I can work. How about you?”

“Same,” I said. “It’s usually slow around Christmas, so it’s a good time to catch up on all those things I never have time to do. Besides, I have a wedding New Year’s Eve so it seemed silly to fly home for Christmas and then fly back before New Year’s.”

I was hoping that would prompt him to ask me about the wedding. It didn’t. After ten seconds of uncomfortable silence, I dove in. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I’m working,” he said.

“You’re catering a party on New Year’s Eve?” I guess I should’ve expected that.

“Actually, I’m bartending.”

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore?”

“I usually don’t, but the money’s really good on New Year’s, so I couldn’t turn it down. Why?”

“No reason.” No point in telling the truth now.

“Liar! You wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with me, didn’t you?”

“I did not.”

“You did too. Admit it. What did you have planned?”

“Nothing.”

“A night of seduction?”

“You wish.”

“Then what?”

I knew he wasn’t going to let this one go. “I just needed a date for my friend’s wedding, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Why do you want to bring a date to a wedding? Don’t you know weddings are a great place to meet people.”

“Yeah, I met you at the last one.”

He laughed. “Touché.”

“Maybe it’s because it’s on New Year’s Eve,” I added, “but this one’s going to be all couples.”

“Do you expect me to believe that America’s favorite romantically challenged serial dater can’t get a date?”

I explained to Joe that I had planned on going with Greg until Simone uninvited him, and now it was too late to find someone else. He didn’t need to know about Marty.

“I’m really sorry, Julie. I’d love to go if I wasn’t working, but I’ve already committed.”

“No problem, Joe. I understand.” Actually, I didn’t. But I consoled myself with the knowledge that at least he was blowing me off for work, and not another woman. Somehow that made it better.

Partners for Life

I had barely begun to feel sorry for myself when Simone ran into my office and shut the door.

“Guess what?” She didn’t wait for a response. “The partners are meeting tonight. You’re up for partnership this year along with me and Greg.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I heard it straight from Diane.”

Rosenthal’s assistant was the source of all reliable gossip. “Why is he considering me now? I’m only a sixth year. Technically, I’m not up for consideration until next year.”

“Greg’s only a sixth-year and you didn’t think it was weird that he was up for partnership a year early.”

“That’s because Greg’s a kiss-ass.” Now that she and Greg were on the outs, I could say these things to her again.

“True. But you’re a celebrity. To Rosenthal, that’s even better than a kiss-ass.”

* * *

I didn’t need to work late, but I did anyway. I was hoping the partners’ meeting would end while I was still in the office and that someone would tell me the outcome. By eight o’clock, I was tired of waiting. I went next door to Simone’s office and told her I was leaving. She said she was going to stick around a little longer and promised to call if there was any news. I stopped by Greg’s office too, but he was already gone. No one in the firm doubted that Greg would make partner. Especially not Greg.

* * *

Simone, Greg and I spent most of the day Wednesday going in and out of each other’s offices, trying to decide whether no news was good news or bad news. Rosenthal let us squirm until five o’clock, then he called us down to his office for a group meeting.

The three of us lined up on his couch. Greg on one end, Simone on the other, and me sandwiched in the middle. If Rosenthal noticed the tension between Greg and Simone, he didn’t mention it. He closed his door, leaned on the edge of his desk, and with his arms folded across his chest said, “I’m sure you know we had a partners’ meeting last night. And I’m sure you also know that one of the items on the agenda was whether each of you will make partner this year.”

He moved behind his desk and sat down before continuing. “What you may not know is that we didn’t finish last night. We’re reconvening again tomorrow night, so if all goes well, I should have an answer for you by Friday.”

“Why aren’t you meeting tonight?” Greg asked what I and I was sure Simone was thinking.

“I have a previous engagement,” Rosenthal said then smiled. He really loved watching us sweat.

* * *

I arrived at work Friday morning at 8:15. That was the earliest I’d ever made it to the office. I’d even beat the bagel man. I was surprised when I found Simone sitting at her desk.    

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” I asked.

“No. I figured I might as well come in and get some work done.”

“That’s what I told myself too.”

We spent the next hour drinking coffee and playing darts. This time it was Rosenthal’s picture tacked to the board.

At 9:15, I went back to my own office and pretended to work while I waited for Rosenthal to arrive. He walked past my door promptly at 9:30, but didn’t say a word.

After half an hour, Rosenthal must’ve decided he’d tortured us enough for one week. He walked into my office and closed the door behind him. I held my breath.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You are now a partner at Rosenthal & Leventhal.”

I breathed, but I was still in shock. I never thought he’d do it. Not this year anyway. It was too soon. I stood up to shake Rosenthal’s hand, but he walked around the desk and gave me a hug. I thanked him and he beamed at me like a proud father.

“Just remember,” he said, “next time you’re on television you need to mention the name of the firm.”

“Done.” I was too excited to be annoyed.

Rosenthal walked out and turned towards Simone’s office. When I heard him shut Simone’s door, I put my ear up to our common wall. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t have a glass, so I tried holding a paper cup up to the wall, but it didn’t help. I waited until I heard Rosenthal’s voice in the hallway, before I ventured out. He was halfway to Greg’s office when I walked into Simone’s. She was staring out the window with her back towards the door.

“So?” I asked.

“You first,” she said with that inscrutable expression I could never pull off.

“Yes,” I said.

“Me too!” she yelled and broke into a smile. We hugged and congratulated each other and planned how we would spend all that extra money we were sure we would make now that we were partners. Simone said she was going to trade in her old BMW for a Jaguar. I was debating between using the extra money for a down payment on a condo or paying off my student loans.

Greg joined us a few minutes later.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He was the only one of the three of us that didn’t look happy.

“Didn’t you talk to Rosenthal?” he said.

“Yes, I made partner. Simone too.” I didn’t dare ask him if he’d made partner.

“Did you ask him what kind of a partner?” Greg said.

“How many kinds are there?” Simone asked before I could.

“Two kinds,” Greg said. “Equity partners and income partners. Equity partners actually own a piece of the firm and share in the profits. Income partners are partners in name only. It’s really just a glorified title for senior associates so they can tell their clients they’re partners.”

“That bastard!” I said at the same time Simone said, “Rosenthal told you this?” Simone was still in denial. I’d already moved into anger.

“Not in those words,” Greg said, “but yes.”

“How come he didn’t tell us?” Simone asked.

“Well he didn’t volunteer the information to me either,” Greg replied. “After he congratulated me, I started asking him about the procedure for buying into the partnership. He told me I didn’t need to worry about that just yet. When I pushed him on it, he admitted that he’d made the three of us income partners.”

“Did he give you an excuse?” Simone asked.

“He started with his usual bullshit about how the firm wasn’t as profitable as it used to be and—“

“What does that mean?” I asked. “He only made one million this year instead of two million?”

“Apparently,” Greg continued. “He said he couldn’t consider any new equity partners before things turned around.”

“And did he say how long that would be?” Simone asked.