Lawfully Yours (20 page)

CHAPTER 33

Jordan’s schedule finally gets lighter. When he isn’t at work or with Marty, he’s at my house. The unoccupied spaces in my closet and dresser are gradually diminishing. As odd as it is for me to open a drawer and see several pairs of men’s boxer shorts wedged in next to my bras, it’s good to know Jordan’s intent is to stay with me.

Jordan’s romantic nature always comes through. He’s so thoughtful, bringing over amazing food from fabulous restaurants. And who knew my former, tough-as-nails boss is the kind of guy who likes to cuddle when watching romances? Lucky for me though, we always wind up doing much more than mere cuddling. I’ve never had a sex life before and know now what I’ve been missing. But I’ve got no regrets. Waiting for someone like him was worth it.

But as much as I love our time alone, the house bound thing is getting claustrophobic. “Can’t we ever go out?” I plead. “I feel like I’m under house arrest.”

“I’m just trying to minimize our exposure. We tried staying at my place once, but you said you didn’t want to go there again.”

His place is a glamorous apartment in one of Hartford’s best buildings. The truth is I feel out of place in the cold, masculine environment. It’s filled with articles of his life that have nothing to do with me.

Unfortunately, the only other option, my place, is getting both of us into a rut. “My point is we need to leave both our apartments,” I explain. “We can’t keep living our lives as shut-ins because we think we’re going to get caught.”

Because I’ve been nagging him for three months, he agrees. Our first stop is a lobster house in Mystic. The weather’s warm for nighttime in early May, and we’re able to sit outside on a deck that overlooks the water.

“I have something important I want to discuss with you,” he says, taking my hand.

My heart races. Was Mom’s premonition right?

“I’m having trouble balancing my time with you and the rest of the things in my life.”

I pull my hand back. “What is the issue now?” I ask, hopefully in not too hostile a voice.

“Marty, for one. Work, for another. I knew dating you would push everything else to the back burner, which is a big problem for me. I have files I need to work on at home. And even when my workload calms down, I still don’t have time to call up the guys from law school, or my parents. My time at my own home is so limited. Assuming one could call my apartment my home. It’s now nothing more than a very expensive, oversized locker.”

“What are you saying?” I ask him, wrestling my voice to keep it calm. “That you want to break up with me?”

“Break up? No. I want us to live together.”

“What?”

He leans over and smiles. “It’s the solution I came up with. If you’re always with me I’ll easily be able to take care of the other things in my life. So, our apartments are a little small, I think. When do you want to look for a bigger one?”

My thoughts are swimming. I definitely need to anchor down at least some of them quickly. Unfortunately, the thought that weighs heaviest is not one he wants to hear.

“Look, Jordan, I care about you enough to live with you. But I’m not sure I can be your secret paramour indefinitely. So let’s take the situation one day at a time.” My voice is cool.

First he looks surprised, then worried. “I was hoping you’d say you want to live with me, too. You are the love of my life,” he says softly.

“I am?” Must. Close. Gaping. Mouth.

“Yeah. You’re always so happy when I make the first move. Well, at least that part of our relationship stays consistent.”

“I am the love of your life?” I repeat. It comes off sounding like a question.

“Yes, Sue. I am in love with you. I want to be with you all of the time. Nothing would make me happier than if you moved in with me.”

“I’m sorry,” I choke. “But I honestly don’t think that works for me.”

Jordan straightens himself up in this chair. His neck and shoulders are rigid straight, his expression neutral. It’s his negotiation stance, one I’ve seen countless times as his associate. “Okay, what do you think will work?” he asks tightly.

“I do want to be a part of your life. But I can’t be a part of your life and yet outside of your life at the same time.”

“Are you saying you want me to tell the firm we’re involved? Or are you saying you want us to get married?”

I start to open my mouth again, leaving it hanging in the air for a few more moments. My heart flutters with hope. “Is that an offer?”

He tugs at his shirt collar, his face flush with color. “Sue, I love you. I want you in my life and I want you in Marty’s life. But all I’m ready to do right now is share an apartment together. That’s already a big step for me. It’s honestly
more than I thought I’d ever do again, given my divorce.
And
telling the firm about us when we know we can get fired is not a good idea.”

“When will it be a good idea?”

“I can’t answer you that. I don’t know.”

“You’re still afraid people will think there’s a pattern of your being involved with associates?” My voice has definitely gone up an octave.

“Rochelle made it worse, yes. But it is still not okay for a partner to be dating an employee. That rule applies to every company. It applies even more if that company is a law firm.”

“It seems we haven’t progressed an inch from when we started dating. I thought with time you’d change your position. I’ve changed my position so much to be with you. I gave up working with you, even working with my clients. And then agreed to work for Bill.” I pause for a moment. “Jordan, I’d even leave the firm if they couldn’t accept our being together.”

“I don’t think quitting your job is the answer.”

“And hiding all our lives is the answer?”

I can’t talk anymore, my jaw is clenched tight. The air has gushed out of me like a balloon with the pull-tie yanked out.

We leave the restaurant not saying much. He can tell I’m pissed.

“Should I sleep back at my place tonight?” he asks.

I nod in response.

I’d once thought that if Jordan ever told me he loved me things would magically fall into place. Wrong. The conversation at Mystic looms large and threatening, a darkened sky before the storm.

He hasn’t removed any of his things from my apartment but continues to say he has work to do, or the gym to go to, or an extra something to do with Marty to prevent him from coming over.

After a week of indefinite postponements, I have it out with him. “Jordan, you keep coming up with excuses. Are you deliberately avoiding me?”

His response is even cooler than it’s been over the past week. “You don’t know where you stand with me. I don’t know where I stand with you.” An Alpine iceberg in winter would radiate more warmth.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand, trying to not yell.

“I told you I want to live with you. You told me you don’t. I’m not a toy to be played with. I was serious about our being together full time. I thought you were, too.”

“I am serious about us. I told you I’d leave the firm if they can’t accept our being together.”

“I wouldn’t let you be the one to leave, and I can’t leave. How many times do I need to explain this to you?”

He can explain it a hundred more times for all I care. He’ll be speaking to a dial tone anyway. I hang up, being sure to slam the phone down as hard as I can.

Impasse. He continues to stay at his apartment, and I feel more alone than ever. Is it better for me to subject myself to his conditions, or miss him by not having him at all?

There are even more problems on the horizon. Helen leaves me another voice mail. I wouldn’t care except for her threat. She says if I don’t return her book immediately she’ll find out who my boss is and tell him I stole from her firm. Great. I’m sure Bill would love to get a call like that. Questions about my professionalism are really what he wants to deal with. I can now resume cringing every time I walk around the office.

Could things get worse? Of course. My office phone’s caller ID indicates Larry wants a chat with me. As soon as I hang up the phone I hustle over to his office as instructed.

Panic would be preferable to what I’m feeling now. Why would the firm’s head partner want to see me? I seriously doubt he wants to give me another award.

Standing outside his door like a scared elementary student waiting to be called in by the principal, his secretary waves me in. “They’re waiting for you,” she says, quickly turning back toward her computer screen. Despite a desperate desire to run away, I enter.

Larry’s office is enormous, but it figures that the head partner would have premium digs. This place manages to put Jordan’s to shame. It’s actually more of a suite than an office. The designer must have blown the budget on gold fabric on this one. As did the architect on the window budget; the entire wall is glass. Whether the set-up is meant to impress or intimidate, it doesn’t matter—it does both.

At least Larry feels at home. He’s sitting at his desk, obviously quite comfy in a leather wing chair. Sitting in one of his guest chairs is Jordan. Huh?

“Come on in, Susan,” Larry orders.

I sink down into the other guest chair. Without saying a word, trying not to sweat. I’m desperate to look at Jordan but I don’t dare to. Damn it. I need to read Jordan’s expression and gauge how much trouble I’m in. Maybe he can send me a telepathic message as to what I did wrong. And where’s Bill? Shouldn’t he be the one sitting in the guest chair instead? Afraid to make eye contact with Jordan, I keep my eyes focused on Larry.

“Susan, I want to get some facts from you.”

“Yes, Attorney McMullen.”

“Calling me Larry is fine. What can you tell me about Jerry Spalone?”

“I’m sorry, in what way do you mean?”

“I got a call this morning from Jerry Spalone, Senior. He said he wanted to switch to a different partner due to some incident that happened between Jordan, you, and his son, Jerry Junior. Tell me what happened.”

“I’ll be happy to tell you everything. I’m a little surprised, though, as to why Jerry’s father is calling you now. The incident happened months ago.”

“From what I understand, Jerry Junior waited until now to tell his father. Apparently Jerry Senior had an appointment this afternoon with Jordan for a land use problem, and his son threw a fit when he found out. So, from your perspective, what happened?”

How I manage to keep my eyes focused on the head partner, I don’t know. “I was working late on a Friday, around eight o’clock. I left to get a coffee from the break room. When I came back to my office five minutes later, Jerry Junior was outside my door, blocking it so I couldn’t get in. He demanded a date and heavily implied that if I didn’t leave with him right away I’d be jeopardizing the firm’s relationship with his family. Jordan happened to call me a few minutes later about a client. It was lucky timing because he heard Jerry’s voice in the background and guessed something was wrong. When Jordan came upstairs to help me out, Jerry slandered us. Jordan suggested that he leave, and Jerry left. That was it. I didn’t hear from Jerry Junior again, and frankly, I’m relieved. I’m sorry for any client failure I may have caused, or that Jordan may have caused by looking after me.”

“When did you first meet Jerry Junior?” Larry barks.

Now I know how deponents feel. If I manage to stay employed with this firm, I’ll be much nicer during depositions. “As you know, Larry, I do try to drum up business for the firm. I met Jerry Junior at a cocktail party thrown by a business connection of mine. Jerry came up to me and introduced himself. He asked for my business card and I gave it to him. I turned him down for a date, though, and thought I’d never see him again. But Jerry wouldn’t give up. He sent me a gift here at the firm, and then kept calling me. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, no matter how many times I told him.”

“Jerry Junior told his that father you and Jordan are seeing each other. I find that hard to believe, because I know the lawyers at this firm, especially our partners, would never violate company policy, or expose the firm to suit.”

The world suddenly stops turning, freezing time. The air becomes like ice shards ripping through my lungs.

“You know,” Larry continues, “our lawyers need to be assets, not liabilities—”

“Larry,” Jordan warns, “if you want me to leave the firm, that’s fine by—”

“Jordan and I are not dating.”

Both men fall silent and turn to stare at me.

Am I crazy? I can’t believe I just lied to the head partner! Lying to cover up is even worse than committing the crime.

“Thank you, Susan,” says Larry. “That’s good to know. You’ve been helpful. You can go back to your office now.”

Leave? Without knowing what’s going to happen? “Sir, I do understand office policy and the importance of keeping clients happy. The Spalone situation was unique. I am sure it won’t happen again.”

“It’s unfortunate it happened with this client, considering how critical the Spalones are to this firm.”

“What are you saying, Larry?” Jordan says coldly. “That because the Spalone family is important, Susan should have to tolerate stalker behavior from their lunatic son? And what do you expect from me? Despite all this, I’ll continue to work for Jerry Junior, if he wants me to.”

“I will handle it,” Larry says. “You can both go now. Thank you for your time. Close the door on your way out.”

I let Jordan walk out first. Slowly and quietly I close Larry’s door behind us. I’m kicking myself. Why didn’t I handle Jerry Junior myself that night?

My dream of being a smooth business professional is really no more than that—a dream. Worse, I’m no better than Rochelle because I also caused Jordan to be dragged into Larry’s office to defend against claims he’s dating his associate. Even worse, this time the accusations are true. Jordan really could be fired. Why didn’t I listen to him?