been disconnected, and I don’t have my BlackBerry, and his voice mail said something about being out of the office . . .” I stop myself, feeling the heat rise up my cheeks.
“He’s on the west coast working on a deal. I’m sure his assistant will have his coordinates.”
“Right. I should’ve thought of that.”
“Nathalie,” he calls out the door, “please find out when Craig Talbot will be back, and get his numbers from his assistant.”
“Will do,” she answers.
“Thanks, Matt.”
“Of course. Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do now?”
“What do you mean? Can’t I . . . I mean, I thought I’d come back to work.”
Matt’s eyes slide away from mine. My stomach re-forms into a hard knot of nervousness. In my experience, nothing good ever comes from a man who can’t look you in the eye.
“Matt, what is it?”
“I’m just a bit surprised you want to come back, after everything that’s happened.”
“What do you mean? What else would I do?”
His eyes return to mine. I can’t read their expression. “Have you given any thought to going back to school?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Perhaps a change might do you some good.”
“Why would I need a change?”
“No reason. Forget I said anything.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Matt, come on. What’s going on?”
He clears his throat. “Nothing, only . . . you might find it hard rebuilding your practice after being gone for so long, that’s all.”
“Susan was gone longer when she had her baby.”
A muscle twitches in Matt’s jaw. Bringing that up was a mistake. Susan’s yearlong maternity leave was extremely controversial. Rumor had it that she had to promise she wouldn’t have another kid to get it.
Why do I like working here again?
“That’s true. But, Emma, her clients knew she was coming back.”
I put two and two together. “And mine thought I wasn’t.”
“Yes.”
“You mean . . . my clients have all been reassigned?”
Matt looks sad. Sad for me. “I’m sorry, Emma, but yes.”
This is not good. Partnership in TPC is based on a complicated formula of billable hours and number of clients. You have to have a certain client base that generates a certain number of billable hours to even be considered. So what Matt just said means I’m not a year away from partnership; I’m going to have to start back at the beginning, as if I’d just graduated. As if the last seven years had never happened.
No wonder he thinks I should go back to school.
“But I can still come back if I want to?”
“I’ll have to check with the Management Committee, but if that’s what you really want, I’ll back you.”
“It’s what I want,” I say with more certainty than I feel.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Sophie’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed across her chest. Her perfect veneer of makeup emphasizes her high cheekbones and gives definition to an otherwise weak chin. Her apple-green blouse matches her cat eyes.
“It’s true,” she says in her precise diction. I catch a whiff of Chanel No. 5, a scent I used to like before I met her.
“Looks like it.”
“Well, that’s just grand. Everyone was so concerned.”
“I’ll bet.”
She looks me up and down. “You’re looking well.”
I push up the sleeves of Dominic’s sweater, feeling dowdy.
I will not let her goad me into saying something bitchy in front of Matt. I will not let her goad me . . .
“How are you enjoying my office?”
Damn. And I was trying so hard too.
“Have you finished the opinion for Mutual Assurance yet, Sophie?” Matt says with a disappointed tone in his voice.
Mutual Assurance is one of the firm’s biggest clients. Aspiring litigators cut their teeth on the hundreds of cases it throws TPC’s way every year. In my first year at the firm, I wrote The Defendant denies the allegations in paragraph x, y, z so many times it felt like I was doing lines for
“He’s on the west coast working on a deal. I’m sure his assistant will have his coordinates.”
“Right. I should’ve thought of that.”
“Nathalie,” he calls out the door, “please find out when Craig Talbot will be back, and get his numbers from his assistant.”
“Will do,” she answers.
“Thanks, Matt.”
“Of course. Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do now?”
“What do you mean? Can’t I . . . I mean, I thought I’d come back to work.”
Matt’s eyes slide away from mine. My stomach re-forms into a hard knot of nervousness. In my experience, nothing good ever comes from a man who can’t look you in the eye.
“Matt, what is it?”
“I’m just a bit surprised you want to come back, after everything that’s happened.”
“What do you mean? What else would I do?”
His eyes return to mine. I can’t read their expression. “Have you given any thought to going back to school?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Perhaps a change might do you some good.”
“Why would I need a change?”
“No reason. Forget I said anything.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Matt, come on. What’s going on?”
He clears his throat. “Nothing, only . . . you might find it hard rebuilding your practice after being gone for so long, that’s all.”
“Susan was gone longer when she had her baby.”
A muscle twitches in Matt’s jaw. Bringing that up was a mistake. Susan’s yearlong maternity leave was extremely controversial. Rumor had it that she had to promise she wouldn’t have another kid to get it.
Why do I like working here again?
“That’s true. But, Emma, her clients knew she was coming back.”
I put two and two together. “And mine thought I wasn’t.”
“Yes.”
“You mean . . . my clients have all been reassigned?”
Matt looks sad. Sad for me. “I’m sorry, Emma, but yes.”
This is not good. Partnership in TPC is based on a complicated formula of billable hours and number of clients. You have to have a certain client base that generates a certain number of billable hours to even be considered. So what Matt just said means I’m not a year away from partnership; I’m going to have to start back at the beginning, as if I’d just graduated. As if the last seven years had never happened.
No wonder he thinks I should go back to school.
“But I can still come back if I want to?”
“I’ll have to check with the Management Committee, but if that’s what you really want, I’ll back you.”
“It’s what I want,” I say with more certainty than I feel.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Sophie’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed across her chest. Her perfect veneer of makeup emphasizes her high cheekbones and gives definition to an otherwise weak chin. Her apple-green blouse matches her cat eyes.
“It’s true,” she says in her precise diction. I catch a whiff of Chanel No. 5, a scent I used to like before I met her.
“Looks like it.”
“Well, that’s just grand. Everyone was so concerned.”
“I’ll bet.”
She looks me up and down. “You’re looking well.”
I push up the sleeves of Dominic’s sweater, feeling dowdy.
I will not let her goad me into saying something bitchy in front of Matt. I will not let her goad me . . .
“How are you enjoying my office?”
Damn. And I was trying so hard too.
“Have you finished the opinion for Mutual Assurance yet, Sophie?” Matt says with a disappointed tone in his voice.
Mutual Assurance is one of the firm’s biggest clients. Aspiring litigators cut their teeth on the hundreds of cases it throws TPC’s way every year. In my first year at the firm, I wrote The Defendant denies the allegations in paragraph x, y, z so many times it felt like I was doing lines for
Similar Books
