Falling in Love (31 page)

I could never be a real legal secretary so why the charade? Just like I knew now that I could never stay sober. Total destruction was only a matter of time. I knew that. I always had. I just didn’t want to admit it. Until now.

I went straight home and straight to my closet. I threw on a short low-cut dress on the bed. Why not go nude, Sherry! Here I am guys. Have fun. Looking at the dress, I almost vomited.
No! Stop it Sherry! Get a fucking grip! Not a fucking guy!

I called Elaine. Her line was busy. So was Gregory’s. Darcy, my savior so many times without ever knowing it, was in Miami visiting her sick mother! Perfect!

No! Damn it, no! Don’t!

I threw the dress into the closet and dunned shorts and a jersey, grabbed a ball and rushed out the door. I’d kick penalty shots until the darkness was beyond black. Maybe then I’d be too tired to act out. But I was haunted by my thoughts.
Did I really want to ruin Adam’s career? Lose every game for the Wildcats? Quit now while only you know that you’re an abysmal failure.
Failure is easy, I told myself. I sure knew that, I’d been a failure all my life.

Just one night of extreme acting out and Elaine and Gregory would hug me and love me. I could be a temp again. No expectations. Easy. I had stayed sober for 268 days. But I knew that I was never going to make 269 days. I turned into the first bar. It was a sports bar. Perfect. Half the people in there in some kind of sports togs.

“What’ll it be?” asked the muscular bartender who someone had called Joe.

I set the soccer ball on the bar. “A double screwdriver.” The perfect drink to start off this impending horrible night.

The moment he set the drink on the bar, I realized I had no money on me. “Can I run a tab?”

He nodded. He probably knew some guy would end up paying for my drinks anyway. And why not? If I’m going to act out with some guy and probably all of his friends, at least he could fork over for a few drinks.

I stared at the silver droplets condensing on the glass. I ran a finger down the side and licked the moisture off my finger. The moment that cold orange concoction touched my lips, I knew my life was all but over. I raised the glass in a toast to myself.
Here’s to ending it all!
With the glass an inch from my lips, close enough to smell the sweet orange juice and the acrid vodka, and ready to dive into oblivion, I heard, “Hey, Sherry!”

Great! A long-forgotten one-night stand! That didn’t take long. Then I recognized the voice. No! Not now! Not here!

I swung around on my stool. Looking out of place in a power suit and carrying a briefcase was Paula. “Hi,” I said sheepishly.

“Been kicking balls?”

“Ah, No,” I stammered. “Just going now. I wanted a glass of orange juice, first.”
Orange juice? In a bar? Nice try!

Paula ignored the comment. “I’ll go with you. Give me five minutes to change.”

“Great,” I said softly.

Suddenly, Joe was all over us, exclaiming, “Wow! In my bar! Awesome!” He extended a napkin and a pen to Paula. “Do you mind? Could you say, ‘To Donna. You’re the best ever.’ She’s always saying you’re the best ever.” Paula autographed the napkin and handed it back to Joe, who kissed it, exclaiming, “I’m getting laid tonight.”

“Good for you,” smiled Paula.

I grabbed the ball and as we headed out, Joe called, “Hey, Miss?” We turned around. He motioned to my screwdriver still untouched on the bar.

“Go ahead,” Paula said, thinking I had just forgotten to drink my ‘orange juice.’ “Don’t you want it?” In horror, I knew that Joe was expecting payment for the screwdriver, and I was going to have to ask Paula to buy my expensive ‘juice.’ Worse, I’d have to tell her why I was really there.

“No worries!” Joe exclaimed. “It’s on the house.”

I breathed again, telling Paula, “I changed my mind.”

As we headed out, Joe called, “Paula, you bring Timmy in here and not only drinks, food, anything you want. It’s all on the house. I wish he were wearing pinstripes tonight. They need a stopper.”

Paula turned back and nodded with a knowing smile.

Outside, I asked, “What’s a stopper?”

“The Yankees have lost three games in a row. A pitcher who wins and ends the skid is called a stopper.”

I need a Timmy, too, I thought.

Paula’s lovely apartment overlooked the Hudson River. Adorning the drawing room were pictures of Paula and a handsome man, apparently Timmy, on exotic vacations. “No trophy room?” I asked.

“In Riverdale.” Paula emerged from the bedroom wearing only a bra and panties to gesture at a photo of what looked like a European Castle. “Forget about mine, Tim’s trophy room is probably bigger than this whole apartment.”

“Do you miss him being gone all summer?”

“Desperately!” She reemerged, dressed for the field. “Let’s do it.”

For the next two hours, I got another master class in passing, and like Darcy, Paula was extremely generous in sharing her knowledge as well as some incredible tricks.

As darkness set in, our legs both felt like jelly. I declined her invitation to dinner. I didn’t want to flirt with another screwdriver. But no matter how much I messed up in the future, I knew that I would always be eternally grateful to Paula for walking into that bar.

The next day, Adam assured me that the closing had gone fine and no really noticed that it had started late. I felt a little stronger for having not slipped. I knew that I had Paula to thank for that but as Elaine loved to say, we can’t do it alone.

I still had to leave Adam, I knew that. I couldn’t be responsible for ruining his career, too. But he was always so busy. I couldn’t find the right time to tell him. But I also had to know the answer to one question before I left. Finally, one night we stayed late to revise documents. No constantly ringing phones and associates pestering to see him. My chance to end it. Dining on Indian takeout in his lavish office, I broached my darkest thought.

After stammering a bit in embarrassment, I finally got out, “Adam, after I had showed up drunk that morning of the meeting with the Japanese buyers, and then I left the firm, I never understood why you had insisted that if I ever came back to Whitney that I was to work for you.” I felt a new pang of guilt for assuming then that he had just wanted what every man I’d ever known had seemed to have wanted.

After a pause, Adam replied, “I was hoping that I would never have to tell you, because I didn’t want to put any pressure on you to stay sober. You don’t need to for me, but for yourself.”

“Okay. I know that,” I said, suddenly nervous.

“I didn’t do it for you, Sherry. In a weird way, I did it for me.” Adam looked uncomfortable. “I had an alcoholic father and, intellectually, I’ve always known that I could never have helped him. I was only eleven when he got so blasted that he drove a pickup head on into a semi. But emotionally, I’ll always feel guilty for not saving him. I guess you were an attempt to assuage that guilt.” He smiled. “Now, you have to stay sober for me, too. How’s that for pressure?”

I laughed. “Actually, I’m okay with that. I haven’t done that great trying to stay sober for me. Maybe I can do better for you.”

He smiled. “That would be wonderful.”

Now I didn’t know what to do. So I just told him about my quandary. Adam laughed. “Sherry, I would like to think that I will never ruin my career. But I can guarantee you this, if I ever do, the reason will not be you.”

I felt like crying. He was not only the best boss I’d ever had but he was the most supportive man I had ever met in my life.

But as always, I waited for something horrible to happen because it always did when things were going too well. It didn’t take long. A few days later, Adam called me into his office and said, “Another firm has been wooing me for a year and I finally said, yes.”

I was crushed. I wanted desperately to stay with him until I left to attend college full-time. I almost burst into tears. He continued, “They are reimbursing Whitney for the Denison pro bono. They’ve also agreed to pay you their top secretarial salary and to give you a ten-grand bonus upfront. But if you accept, you have to promise to try and stay with me for a year.”

I couldn’t believe it. In my entire life, no one had ever done anything like that for me.

“Yes,” I whispered, almost unable speak. I wanted to run to him and hug him. “Yes,” I whispered again and ran out, fighting back tears.

We were gone in two weeks. We only moved a few blocks but into a spacious suite.

Like Whitney, our new firm was also old and prestigious with hallways lined with more antique wood. Instead of just a workstation, I had my own office outside of Adam’s office with my own window overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge.

On our first day, Adam’s wife, Lisa, came for lunch. She was even more beautiful than her pictures and her walk, talk, dress, basically everything, exuded class. I wondered if I would, or even could, ever have a fraction of that kind of class. She sweetly thanked me again for my help with the Denison appeal. Then she leaned against the door to Adam’s office and looked me over, making me very nervous.

“Adam said you were attractive,” she said a bit too loudly, “but you are drop-dead gorgeous.”

Finishing up a document, Adam didn’t look up. “Don’t let her intimidate you, Sherry. I said you were
very
attractive.”

Adam came out. Lisa kissed him long and luxuriously and then said, “Just remember, Darling. I get you or your millions.”

No! She was going to get me fired! The ten-thousand dollar bonus, my own office, all gone in an instant! I didn’t even do anything!
Yet! Then I realized it.
She knew!
She knew that I couldn’t say no to the lowest scumbag. Surely I could never say no to Adam. I’d ruin his marriage and the life of his adorable daughters.
Of course, she knew!

When Adam returned alone from lunch, he picked up his messages saying, “Before you decide to quit again, you should know that Lisa’s comments weren’t about you.”

I almost laughed. Now he could read my mind, too. “Lisa’s father wasn’t an alcoholic like my old man but we had both felt the pain of seeing our mothers’ eyes when our fathers called to say they were ‘working late.’ Hopefully, I’ll never mess up my marriage but one thing I do know is that it won’t be from being with another woman. Lisa knows it, too. But now and then she likes to remind me that men are men and if I ever do something really stupid I’m going to find out just how good of a lawyer she really is.”

He motioned to the pile of documents on his desk. “That is my mistress, and if you think I’m ever ‘working too late.’ throw me out. Deal?”

I nodded. “Deal.”

As he disappeared into his office, I felt wonderful. Yes, I was the girl who couldn’t say no. But I also had a boss who was never going to ask for a yes! I couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the afternoon.

Later, Darcy called to say that she couldn’t make our passing practice. “I’ve got two showings and my assistant just went home sick,” she lamented. The next thing I knew I had agreed to “show” one of her apartments. “Linda is the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet,” Darcy promised.

Linda Harris was waiting for me in the lobby of a posh Fifth Avenue apartment building in the Seventies. Mature and blonde, she was wearing a serious designer outfit but her smile was all T-shirt and jeans.

I was awestruck as we wandered through the lavish penthouse apartment with its myriad bedrooms and wrap-around terrace. The spacious drawing room alone was several times the size of my apartment.

“This place should be in a museum, don’t you think?” Linda observed. “It’s too beautiful to just live in.”

I nodded.

She led me out to the terrace overlooking the bucolic beauty of Central Park. “I was here once before,” she confided. “Without Johnny, of course. He was working.” She turned to me. “Did you know we eloped? Had to borrow the money for the marriage license. But Johnny could sell. He sold me and everyone he ever met. We had some seriously lean years for awhile but Johnny had a vision and he knew how to make it happen. It seemed like one day I thinking about asking our church for some charity food and then next day I was on the board of some charity gala.”

She looked wistfully down at the Central Park Zoo where a group of kids were enamored with some frolicking sea lions. “Johnny kept saying we were going to sell the company and just have fun for the rest of our lives. But the first time he tried to sell it, the buyer said he was going to lay off five-hundred people. They were our people, our families. Johnny just couldn’t do that. So we kept getting bigger and he kept on trying to sell it. The last time was two years ago when eleven thousand people were going to get laid off. Once again, Johnny said, no.”

She turned to me. “You know the only vacation we ever had?” I dutifully shook my head even though Linda wasn’t really asking. “It was one day. We went to Memphis for a conference. Johnny loved the Beatles and he loved Elvis. We had planned to stay an extra day to see Graceland but some crisis came up and he needed to rush home. But then Johnny said, ‘There’ll always be some crisis. I don’t care what it costs us, let’s go see Graceland.’ So we had one glorious day of just being tourists, of just being Elvis fans. Johnny loved to say that our tickets for touring Graceland cost over two-hundred thousand dollars—and that it was a deal!”