Seduce Me (15 page)

“Where is this yacht going?”

“Nowhere. That means if it’s awful, you can sneak off and no one’ll be the wiser.”

“Can I let you know when I’m not chock-full of sex hormones?”

“Spoilsport. Of course you can.”

“Tentatively, yes, then,” she said.

He grinned. “Tentatively, yay.”

She kissed him and flopped down on her back. “I read about your case,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. “It was a major deal. I can see why they all want you to come work for them.”

He felt as if he’d been sucker punched. His gut tightened and his heart, which had just gotten back to normal, raced into fourth gear. “I was going to tell you,” he said. “But I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

“I gathered. I’d like to understand more about what you did. From the articles, it seemed to me that you capitalized on an iffy stance from the FDA?”

“That’s about right. I brought it to my boss’s attention.” He was playing down his role. Not intentionally, but Max heard it in his voice. He wondered if she could hear it, as well. “It turned out to be important.”

“I also read that because of the final ruling, there are lawsuits coming up to challenge the FDA’s position.”

“That’s true, too.”

She sat up again, cross-legged, the sheets pooling at her waist. Her hair caught the morning light, making it look like a halo. “Obviously, you did what you were hired to do, and you did it exceptionally well. Is it always going to be David and Goliath cases?”

“Probably.”

“Are you always going to be on Goliath’s side?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. What I really want is to focus on my research. I know you know how fulfilling that can be. It’s such an amazing rush to follow the trail of an idea, to discover something no one had connected.” He sighed. “But in all the interviews, they keep talking about me being in the courtroom. I don’t hate it there, but it’s not me, you know? Especially because the trial work would be in addition to the research, and Christ, that just seems...difficult.”

“So can’t you just tell them what you want?”

His smile was crooked. “Not if I want to achieve my goals. I mean, I really do want to step up. Forget it, I’m just whining when I have no business doing any such thing. I hit it lucky and big, and this is my moment. That win is what’s going to put me in the big leagues.”

“No, I see that,” she said. “But it must have been hard, to have such a bittersweet victory at the root of all this success.”

He gently squeezed her leg. And didn’t mention that there hadn’t been anything bittersweet about it. That had come later. After he’d met her.

* * *

M
AX
HADN
’
T
PLANNED
on going to City Hall Park that day. But when Joey Balaban had called, asking if he had time to meet, he didn’t even consider saying no. He saw Joey right away at the fountain, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking more like a student than a criminal lawyer.

The park was crowded, as expected, but Joey spotted him quickly and they headed off south, walking on the well-kept lawn. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” Max said. “It’s good to get out, walk around.”

“I know I called out of the blue, but I was hoping I could ask you a favor. About family matters, of course. The never-ending argument.”

“I figured. What can I do?”

Joey shook his head and ducked to get out of the way of a running kid. “Next week, I’m setting up a meeting at Ivan’s home. I’m going to tell them I want to talk about the lawsuit. I’ll make sure Victor’s clan is there, too. Nat and I have to sit them all down and tell them to knock it the hell off. The problem is, I might be a good enough attorney to represent them in court, but I’m easily dismissed as Luba’s baby boy. And while they do respect Natalie, I don’t know if the two of us will be sufficient to put this idea to bed permanently. I was hoping you’d come and help us make the point.”

“That it’s a foolish waste of money?”

“Yes, basically. And that they don’t have any proof that anyone stole anything. They’re just being stubborn old goats.”

“They’re not going to like that.”

“Nope. But if you’re there, and you tell them they’d be fined for wasting the court’s time, I think they’ll listen.”

“They’ll also hate me.”

“I doubt it. Hanna likes you and Natalie respects you. Besides, they’ll find something else to argue about soon enough. This war won’t ever end. But at least it won’t cost them both a fortune.”

“Sure, I’ll do what I can.”

“Great. I’ll set things up.”

“No problem, but after next week, I’m back to work and I may not have the time.”

“Okay. Thank you. Seriously, thanks.” Joey paused in the shade of a cherry tree. “I also wanted to ask you about your firm. I’ve heard a lot of good things about Latham, Kirkland and Jones, and I was thinking after my stint at Legal Aid, I might check them out.”

“To be honest, I don’t know that much about the criminal side of the firm. I do know they have an excellent reputation and the lawyers there are top-notch. I’d give them a try if I were you.”

“Good to know.” Joey nodded. “After this last case, a lot of firms have to be knocking on your door.”

Max smiled, and shrugged, though he saw no reason to be closemouthed at this stage. “I’m seeing what’s out there, testing the waters. I could very well end up staying with Latham. What other firms are you thinking about?”

They walked again, heading back along a different route. “I’ve got a considerable list, including small firms. In fact, that’s appealing to me more and more. I’d like to work somewhere I could really get to know the clients. Work on cases that mean something to me.”

Not surprised, Max just nodded. He imagined most Legal Aid attorneys were of that mind-set. “There are a lot of good reasons to go small, although being located in Manhattan is outrageously expensive, as I’m sure you know, which makes it difficult to turn down any case. But I can put you in touch with a couple of people in Brooklyn who might be able to steer you in that direction.”

Joey’s smile reminded Max of Ivan. “That’d be great. I’ve got some contacts from Harvard, too, so maybe I won’t be cast adrift.”

“Harvard, huh?” He took another look at the guy. “You’ve got to have more than your share of firms knocking at your door.”

“Yeah.” Joey gave a modest shrug. “Where did you go to law school?”

“Northwestern.”

“That’s a great school.”

“It worked for me.”

They were by the fountain again. Joey checked his watch, and then held out his hand. “I appreciate you meeting me here. At Legal Aid, we don’t have the luxury of long lunches. Or any lunches, most days.”

“It’s got to be great working there, though, huh?”

“Yeah. I wish I could stay, but that’s not the deal I made.” He backed up a few paces. “I’ll call you.”

After Joey turned, Max didn’t immediately head off in search of a cab. He walked north, not paying attention to much. Just thinking about what his father had said. Keeping his own promise to consider his next move carefully. He’d been so gung ho about the law growing up. He’d wanted to be Clarence Darrow, Thurgood Marshall, Abe Lincoln.

But then he’d grown up and seen the world change. To support a family these days cost a fortune. He and Mike had been lucky. Their uncle Roger had left them a nice bequest when he’d died in 1994. Enough to put them both through college, then law school for him and graduate school for Mike. With the rest of the money, his brother had opened his first gallery and Max had made the down payment on his loft. At the time, the market had been the lowest he’d ever seen it in New York. The monthly mortgage payment was still outrageous, but he’d always been careful with his finances.

He knew he wanted a family someday, later down the road, and he wanted to make sure they would always have enough, no matter what. He didn’t have to save the world or even like his clients. But he did have to be smart about his future.

15

T
HE
YACHT
WAS
owned by the senior
partner of Daniels and Porter. Natalie recognized the name from their television
commercials. According to Max, personal-injury cases comprised only a small part
of the giant firm, which had offices in Los Angeles, Dallas, London, Paris and
Dubai.

The cab dropped them off at Pier 56, where they were met by
white-gloved attendants who were checking off names before escorting guests up
the plank. “Is it called a plank?” she asked, leaning close to Max.

“I don’t believe it is. I think it’s a gangway.”

“I like
plank
better. You never
hear a pirate threaten to have his captor walk the
gangway.
”

He grinned at her. “That makes me think of the Jets and the
Sharks.” He bent a little and snapped his fingers in an absolutely terrible
impression of a gang member from
West Side
Story.

“You are adorable,” she said. They moved up the receiving line.
“How come you’re so calm when this firm is so huge?”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “It helps that I’m with
the most beautiful woman on the boat.”

“Ah, so you’re going to use outrageous flattery as your main
tactic.”

Max, who looked stunning in his gray suit, shook his head. “In
this instance, they’re going to be the ones using the flattery. I just need to
keep my head and remember that it’s all fun and games until you actually see the
contract.”

From the moment they’d stepped on the dock, he’d been checked
out blatantly by women and men. It didn’t hurt that the tie he’d chosen made his
eyes shine a fascinating blue-green. She was decidedly not the most beautiful
woman in sight, let alone on the ship. But she felt like the luckiest.

Truth be told, she was a bit intimidated by the number of
lawyers all in one spot. And the unbelievably luxurious yacht. Thank goodness
she’d had this dress. She’d spent a great deal on it two years ago for the
Tribeca Film Festival, where Omnibus was a sponsor. With her recent upgrade in
underwear, it fit her even better.

It was finally their turn to get on board, and Lord, what a
sight. Subtly aglow with recessed lighting and artfully placed strings of white
minibulbs, the very large open-deck area had roving white-jacketed servers
offering food and several different cocktails, including Champagne. There was
also a bar and a five-piece band playing the kind of jazz that you can’t ever
dislike out loud, lest you be thought plebian. Fitting, as most everyone around
them looked as if they’d been selected by central casting. Thankfully, there
were a few folks who seemed like real people. Like people she’d know.

Max grabbed them a couple of Champagne flutes as they made
their first foray around the deck. Just as she was about to comment on the
quality of the drink, Max was approached by a very distinguished-looking man.
Bald except for a collar of short silver hair, the man stood ramrod-straight.
She wondered if he was ex-military, or had just trained himself to look as
intimidating as possible.

Max introduced Natalie as his friend to William Daniels, the
senior partner and vice versa. Hearing Max call her that stung a bit, but then
that’s precisely what she was. No matter what she’d rather be. Daniels shook her
hand and met her gaze for an appropriate amount of time, but as soon as he
turned back to Max, she understood that things had gone from social to business.
The conversation changed in tenor and topic, beginning with a compliment about
Max’s role in the tort case, and a question about how it had come about.

Max looked pleased, and as he told the story, she understood
why. The FDA advisory wasn’t, in fact, law. But Max’s argument read that if a
product was regulated by the federal government, consumers shouldn’t be allowed
to sue—and states had no right to pass regulations or issue health warnings more
stringent than those given by the federal government.

Mr. Daniels approved. At least, that was her interpretation of
the noise he made when the right side of his thin-lipped mouth twitched.

But the second Max broke eye contact with Daniels to look at
her, she realized she needed to make herself scarce. The court had agreed with
Max, but the outcome still bothered her, and she was there to support him. The
last thing she needed was for someone to see her discomfort.

She slipped away, thinking she’d find out what food was being
served. The hors d’oeuvres were bound to be exotic and fabulous and she wanted
to try them all.

The first one she tried was a mini beef Wellington to die for
and the second, an eggplant tartine. Then she heard a woman mention Max, and the
hors d’oeuvres lost all their appeal. The way she said his name, first and last,
was filthy. The woman was beautiful and her voice was positively salacious and a
little drunk as she went on about how happy she’d be to show him the ins and
outs of the office.

Natalie walked away, wishing she could do or say something
terrifically witty that would shut the woman up, but she’d only embarrass
herself, and worse, Max. Just knowing the kind of hours these people kept, she
felt certain that it wasn’t all business all the time at the office.

Max was still with the senior partner. Max’s body language
looked relaxed even though a few other people had joined them. She couldn’t help
hoping he wouldn’t accept whatever deal they offered. Which was ridiculous. No
matter where he worked, there would be gorgeous, powerful women who were far
more like Max than she was.

She stepped aside for a couple to pass, and they looked so
polished and aloof, she felt as if she’d sneaked onto the main deck from
steerage.

It was as if she’d taken off blurred lenses. The glamour she’d
been wowed by did a very good job of hiding the people underneath the facade.
There was a similarity of style among the crowd. Chanel. Prada. D&G. Almost
every heel she saw was five inches high, and she didn’t see a single
off-the-rack suit. The women were all lean, and while there appeared to be a
little more leeway with the men, most were in good shape.

She had never felt so invisible.

Finally, she saw an older gentleman standing alone. His suit
wasn’t immaculately tailored and he looked as if he was guarding his full plate
of hot appetizers. She approached him carefully, looking for signs she wasn’t
welcome, but when he caught sight of her, he smiled.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Natalie. I’m a guest of a guest, and
he’s busy talking shop. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, welcome. I didn’t expect to be talking to anyone during
this party so, nice to meet you, Natalie. I’m Harry. Harry Ellerbach.”

“Hi, Harry. What brings you here tonight?”

“I was invited. I’m the CFO of the firm. They always invite me,
and these days I tend to show up.”

“Why’s that?”

“I lost my wife four years ago. We never liked parties much, so
we used to stay home. But now? It’s a big house, and I get bored of my own
cooking. Whatever else you want to say about Daniels, he doesn’t skimp on the
food.”

“What I tasted was delicious. How long have you been with D
& P?”

“Thirty-two years.”

“Wow. That’s quite a long run.”

He had a nice smile. Not the perfect white Chiclet teeth of
almost every guest there, but an honest one. “It is. I keep things legal
financially, and they put my kids and my grandkids through the best universities
in the country. It’s a good trade-off.”

“So you like working there?”

“I wouldn’t say I like it so much as I’m used to it.” He held
out his plate, but she shook her head at the offer. “I know where all the bodies
are buried. Metaphorically, of course. They’re like most big law firms nowadays.
Billable hours are king, and people who aren’t useful aren’t kept. But that’s
the world, eh?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“You’re not a lawyer.”

“How did you know?”

“Thirty-two years.”

“Ah. No, I’m a film archivist at Omnibus. It’s a—”

“I used to go there. With Annie. We saw a lot of great films
there. We even took classes. I remember one was the Middle Ages in Film. That
was excellent. Better than PBS.”

“Thank you. That was due to our relationship with the film
school at NYU. Have you thought about coming lately?”

He sighed. “No. But now that you mention it, that’s not a bad
idea. I think I’ll get the schedule. I like those question-and-answer programs.
The ones that make me feel as if my brain isn’t turning to mush. There are only
so many tax regulations a man can read.”

She opened her clutch and took out one of her business cards.
He didn’t have a hand free, so she slipped it into his breast pocket. “Call me.
Maybe I can give you a private tour before a screening.”

He smiled, and then his face grew serious. “Who did you say you
were here with?”

She looked behind her. Max wasn’t with Daniels any longer. He
was fully engaged with a half dozen younger people, one of whom was the horrible
woman. Every eye was on him, and they all looked as if they were utterly
captivated by whatever he was saying. “Max Dorset.”

“Is that him? The good-looking one?”

She followed Harry’s line of sight. “Yes.”

“I assume he’s considering joining the firm,” he said, and she
just smiled. “He could do worse. He certainly looks like he’d fit in well.”

“He had a big triumph recently.”

“Ah, yes. As I said. He could do worse. Or better. It depends
on how much of a scrapper he is. I don’t know about you, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, believe me, this is certainly no criticism, but you seem
very nice.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “And?”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Very nice isn’t seen
as much of an advantage at D & P.”

“Max and I are just friends, so I don’t think I can hurt his
chances.”

“Oh, no, that isn’t what I was implying.” He sighed. “I
shouldn’t have opened my mouth. That’s why I should stick to eating instead of
talking.”

“I would have been very sorry if you had.”

“And the defense rests, Your Honor.”

She laughed. “What?”

“You made my point.” His smile was kind, yet sad somehow. He
just looked at her, his expression torn, and she had a feeling he was about to
say something she didn’t want to hear. “Most of the people who make it at
Daniels and Porter are constantly looking to accrue points. It’s not enough for
them to win. Someone else has to lose. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, trying not to let on that he was getting
to her. “I do.”

“That attitude is encouraged. Nurtured. He’ll do fine if that’s
where he gets his energy. A lot of people do.”

They watched the crowd around Max. Some of the outliers left,
only to be immediately replaced. But the attention was centered on him, and he
was glowing. Obviously in his element.

He’d told her that he was just window-shopping, seeing what was
out there. He’d also said he wanted to secure his future, which meant a big
salary. But she’d never seen it all laid out like this. The way everyone was
sizing him up. It wouldn’t matter that his motivation was a solid career and
financial security; there was no way any firm wouldn’t want to exploit every
facet of his abilities. And yes, he wanted the most challenging cases, but she
doubted they’d let him stay in the background. Any firm would be crazy not to
exploit his charisma.

The fight melted out of her. All the secret hopes that he would
suddenly come to realize that he wanted a home life, that he wanted
her
more than another stunning win, were carried off
on the wind of fabulous excess. She just wished she could see it as an
opportunity for him instead of a dangerous web.

Either way, it wasn’t her business. Except that she needed to
give up any last romanticized thoughts she’d entertained about a friendship
between them. He’d try, she had no doubt, but soon enough he’d have to cancel
lunch plans. Nights together. Then the day would come when he’d stop calling
altogether, firmly in his own orbit, in his own tribal world, with its in-jokes
and status markers.

This party was a preview of things to come. She most definitely
didn’t belong on this boat. He’d barely looked at her since they’d come on deck.
Turning back to Harry, she found he had cornered a waiter, one carrying
absolutely beautiful cocktails.

“And what are those?” Harry asked.

The waiter smiled. “It’s an exclusive cocktail called the
Daniels Porter. Made with St-Germain, rum, lemon juice, local honey, absinthe
and house-made blueberry jam.”

Natalie laughed. “Jam?”

“It’s very, very good, ma’am.”

“How much of that is alcohol?”

“It’s best if you’re not driving tonight.”

She lifted one off the silver platter. “Thank you.”

The waiter bowed his head as if he’d been trained at Downton
Abbey, and she sipped her drink.

“What do you think?” Harry asked.

“It’s sinfully good.”

“Of course it is. You should eat.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to take a walk around the deck.
I’ve never been on a yacht before and I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Would you like company, or is this a solo voyage?”

“Oh, yes. Please come. I’m sure you know more about boats than
I do.”

Harry put his almost empty plate on a nearby tray and together
they set off to explore. “First thing you should know,” he said, “is this isn’t
a boat. It’s a megayacht. That’s a whole new class. Basically, you could house
an army here and keep them fed long enough to invade a small country.”

“A megayacht. I’ll remember that.”

Harry walked slowly, which was fine. He led her toward the edge
of the deck, naming things as he went. She knew exactly where Max was every step
of the way. She watched the tide of guests wash in and out, while he was as
steady as the shore. It was difficult, sharing him. It was hard not to think of
their time together and how soon it would be over. She’d miss him. It. Them.
He’d been smooth and interesting, and she’d never been as quick or as daring in
her life.