I allowed myself a small smile, not that he could see it. “Yeah,” I sniffled.
“Throw yourself into work. This place is a prison, but sometimes you want to be locked away from everything else. That’s what I always do when my life is shit. And it’s gotten me this far.”
“Yeah,” I said, and steadied my breath. “It’s a good distraction.” I hung up, took a shower, and called my email to life again, feeling somewhat ready to face the day.
From: Peter Dunn
To: Alexandra Vogel
Subject: FW: Stag River
Alex, see below. Gary Kaplan specifically requested you on the acquisition of Tremor Inc. That’s something to be proud of!
—Peter
My heart sank. I contemplated saying I was already staffed too heavily for the next month, but all first-year staffing went through Courtney, the staffing partner, so she’d know exactly what my capacity for new work was, and Peter could easily find out. All I could hope was that there wouldn’t be any face-to-face meetings for the deal. I shivered in disgust and shoved the feeling down so far I barely registered it.
From: Alexandra Vogel
To: Peter Dunn
Subject: Re: FW: Stag River
Peter,
I’m flattered! Please let me know when I can get started.
—Alex
I watched as my in-box began to flood: Anna reminding me that I was delinquent in recording my time; Mike Baccard announcing that Klasko had been honored with yet another humanitarian award; Howard Kravitz, the head of PR, warning us not to answer calls from any reporters asking for comment on a partner’s son allegedly paying another student to take his SATs; dozens of emails between me and Jordan, hypothesizing which partner the email was referring to; and all the while, hundreds of messages regarding my active deals devoured my attention. The deluge mercifully squeezed the anxiety from my consciousness, and after a few hours, my small laptop screen was straining my vision. I arched my back, stretched my arms, and turned on the cold water in the shower.
I stuck a Post-it to the refrigerator:
Had to just head in for a few. Be back no later than 6. I’ll be sending you good vibes all day. Can’t wait to hear about it.
X, A
I headed to midtown, and didn’t leave the office again for seventy-two hours.
Chapter 15
Three days later, I finally caught a break from the onslaught, and the brief lull in a morning of back-to-back calls allowed my brain to wander back to the events of the last happy hour. I needed to figure out who had started this rumor. I shot Carmen a message, even though I knew she had a closing the next day for Jordan’s deal.
From: Alexandra Vogel
To: Carmen Greyson
Subject: HUGE Favor
I really need to chat. Are you around? Know you’re swamped. But, PLEASE. I’m in my office for the next few hours.
Carmen breezed into my office three minutes after I had hit send, her skin clear and taut and her bright blue eyes alert despite the stress I would have imagined she was under, shut the door, and took a seat.
“You look amazing for having a closing tomorrow,” I said, then realized how it sounded. “I mean, you look really good, period. Which is impressive considering you have a closing tomorrow!”
She smiled with a slight bow of her head. Something was different. She really did look . . . She had to be dating somebody. Everybody looks better when there is somebody to look better for. But she was looking better in the office! Was she dating somebody at work?
“I’m hiding the stress well, I guess. Actually, Jordan is making this closing really smooth for me. It’s sort of a complicated deal, so Jordan’s holding my hand a bit.” She had said his name twice in three sentences, but moreover, she’d said it as though she loved saying it, and was itching to say it a thousand more times. It’s Jordan she’s been looking so good for lately, I thought. I wondered if he was reciprocating. “But I have to get back to it soon. What’s up?”
I shook the thoughts of her and Jordan away, knowing I didn’t have much time, and launched into my deposition. “Have you heard a rumor about me?”
Her eyes widened in what resembled panic before her face settled into her classically inscrutable expression, and she gave a slight shake of her head. “What? No. Why? Have you heard one about me?”
I couldn’t tell if she was expertly deflecting or legitimately wondering, but she looked genuinely worried. “No. Why would I have heard one about you?” She’s definitely sleeping with Jordan, then. I didn’t wait for her to respond. “Everybody was looking at me funny at happy hour.”
She scoffed. “That’s all? That’s just how lawyers look. We’re all socially awkward! You’re being silly.”
“And then Derrick accused me of sleeping with Matt.”
Carmen coughed on my last word. “What? Matt Jaskel?” She glanced over her shoulder to confirm that my door was closed. “Are you?” she whispered, even though it was. She was either a very good actress, or completely shocked.
“No! Jesus. No.”
“I’m just confirming before I say what I was about to, which is that that is absurd! Nobody is saying that.” She was almost laughing.
“Everybody is saying it! Nancy, Derrick, Jordan. And I’m not being paranoid. Everybody was looking at me suspiciously. I want to die. But honestly, between Stag River and National, I’m way too busy to buy arsenic. Tell me the truth—do I need to switch firms?”
“Al, don’t even kid about that. You can’t leave Klasko. I need you here. And nobody would ever believe that. Ever. I trust that Nancy girl as far as I can throw her. She’s so weird, and definitely has a thing for Jordan.” Despite the fact that her response was a classic deflection, she also had a point. I watched as her expression clouded over. “Would you ever sleep with somebody at work?”
“I don’t think so. Why?” I asked gently, trying not to scare her off.
“You know what, never mind! Don’t pay attention to people. And I’m so sorry, but I really have to go. I have a closing!” She was out of her seat before I could say another word.
Carmen was right. Nobody actually believed the rumor. Plus, screw them! They were probably just jealous because I was making inroads with the M&A team. I was certain the hostility would dissipate after we were all placed into groups. I could handle the cattiness for a few more months.
* * *
Just before Klasko partners migrated south to St. Barth’s or east to Chamonix, the firm held its annual Winter Ball. As Jordan explained, it was formerly known as a Christmas party, and then a holiday party, until the idea of offending anybody who did not observe a winter holiday overwhelmed firm management to such an extent that they created a Winter Ball instead. The entire firm and our plus-ones descended on the Pierre Hotel like a plague, a swarm just shy of a thousand. Everybody was invited. The mailroom. The librarians. Secretaries. Lawyers. Plus-ones.
Carmen, Kevin, and Derrick left without me, since I’d been stuck on a call with Stag River, so I hurried over to the Pierre solo, trying to beat Sam there so he didn’t have to navigate the party alone. As I entered the ballroom, my eyes were pulled skyward by the ornate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and then down to take in the rich red carpeting, dotted with male attorneys wearing exactly what they wore to the office and female attorneys taking a few fashion liberties they might not otherwise—skirts a few inches higher and blouses a few lower. Their dates stood out more because they wore nonbusiness clothing than because I didn’t recognize their faces from around the office. I was wearing a new high-waisted burgundy skirt from Aritzia with a white silk blouse from Intermix, an outfit I hoped was just conservative enough to be appropriate and just playful enough to be considered “festive” attire.