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Our managing partner nods his head approvingly. Hayden is his favored candidate too. Fred and Tyler have some kind of mutual admiration society and Hayden benefits.
Yeah, he’s a suck-up.
My turn. Say something but avoid the gush.I clear my throat as quietly as I can. “This is an amazing challenge. I really appreciate the chance to work on a case so important to the future and reputation of the firm and, potentially beyond, Fred.”
Kind of stiff. Fingers crossed I’ve hit the right note. The knot in my chest loosens when Rebecca winks.
As we walk out, she stops me. “Micki, I have a lunch appointment, but let’s have a drink after work.” She looks around. Tyler’s just going into his office, not paying any attention to us. “We haven’t had a good chat for a while.”
“Great, Rebecca. Just come by my office when you’re ready to leave.”
Then I cancel my date for the evening. Work comes first, always.
* * *
After-work drinks have replacedthe three-martini lunch, unless you’re Hayden Forbes-Cartwright. He indulges in both. An unwind is just what I need along with a heads-up on what I can expect in the next few months as we grind through the promotion process.
The Gage is lively at five thirty. A millinery shop in the early twentieth century, the transformation into a happening bar and restaurant on Michigan Avenue in the twenty-first includes historic framed ads for hats.
Rebecca pushes through the crowded room after the hostess, who seats us at a quiet table in a corner near the tile fireplace. We won’t have to shout and have less likelihood of being overheard.
Our waiter arrives in classic server attire, pristine white shirt and black slacks. His curly red hair is a Raggedy-Andy mop.
“One Paris Rose, one Jabberwock, fried pickles, and a cheese board.” Rebecca hands back the menus and lets out a breath.
Then she pulls out a legal pad. “Thought we could go over some strategies for the work. You can work on the emails, social media, anything online, and whatever documents we can upload. That way, while you’re traveling, you’ll have plenty of material to access.”
“Great. I’ve been anxious about being away at such a crucial point in my career.”
The pencil between Rebecca’s fingers moves up and down like a seesaw. “Thanks to technology. Years ago, we were tied to the office, the library. I’m glad you can go to the awards ceremony. Kind of like the Oscars for authors.”
“Yeah. Still, five working days away…”
“I’ll make sure you’re front of mind for all the partners. As far as the work, our new legal research assistant is already busy organizing everything as documentation comes in.”
The barman puts the flute containing the Paris Rose cocktail in front of Rebecca. She hurriedly pushes her legal pad to the side, but not before a few drops splash onto the paper, leaving a light pink trail. She takes a sip just as the server deposits the cheese board in the middle of the table, along with a basket of fried pickles. Meanwhile, the barman has brought my Jabberwock in its coupe.
No time for lunch and my stomach growls. Cheese is a magnet for me. Hence my passion for pizza. With grabby fingers, I snatch some almost before the server gets the platter on the table. “Sorry,” I mumble my apology through a mouthful of cheese. “Starving.”
Rebecca nibbles on a pickle. “Simon Greenberg is an attorney with Talcott, Maier, a state legislator, and the front-running Republican candidate for Senate from Illinois. We went to law school together and have faced each other in court many times.”
She places cheese on a couple of pickles and pops them, one after the other, into her mouth, then sighs with satisfaction. “The SEC received a tip claiming he made use of private information to trade stocks from several companies he represents. After an investigation, the Commission decided on civil charges. Unfortunately, because his candidacy has made him a public figure, criminal charges are pending as well. There may well be some questions about election finance, too.”
“Wait. Shouldn’t Hayden be here?” Not that I want him, but if we’re a team, he deserves the same explanations.
“Hayden has already been briefed.”
Be professional. In control. Pretend it doesn’t matter.
“Oh. I see.” But I don’t. Not at all.
Rebecca takes a huge swallow of the pink liquid. “Not by me. After our meeting, Tyler and Fred took Hayden to lunch and briefed him there.”
How does she know? Or is this an assumption? My heated protest escapes before I can rein it in. “But it’s your case.”
She waves the comment away. “He was so full of himself when he got back. Swanned into my office. ‘Simon Greenberg, huh? I wondered after the rumors flying around. Good for us.’ Then he laughed and walked out.”
Her scowl could freeze the Chicago River. “I was sure Tyler at least would make sure he’s up to speed, and I wanted to put you in the loop right away. Fred and Tyler are bound to give Hayden some instruction on how to handle things, and he will take advantage of the time you are away in April.”
