“Oh?” Karyn had lost the power of speech. As usual, she was growing quiet around the attractive man.
“No. You look too young . .” He spoke as if he doubted himself. “Are you her direct supervisor?” he asked Karyn, feeling his powers grow.
Karyn smiled. “It’s not like that, really.”
But it was.
“Casey is helping me on a few projects.”
“This one is nearly done. I should have it for you in half an hour or less.” Casey kept herself from saying, if Hugh went away, maybe ten minutes. Though it was amusing to watch Karyn act like a crushed-out girl. The truth was that under normal circumstances, Hugh wouldn’t give Karyn a second glance for romantic reasons. She was too serious and angry—the wire spectacles, the ash blond curls, the flat-chested runner’s build, and the one-inch stacked heels with the Ferragamo bows.
“Was there something else you wanted me to do after the book?” Casey asked.
“No,” Karyn said. She wouldn’t give Casey another assignment in front of Hugh. “But I think Larry might need some support this weekend.”
“This weekend?” Casey asked, glancing at Hugh.
Karyn nodded. A gentle smile appeared on her face.
“That would be a shame,” Hugh spoke up. “Our desk really needs Casey this weekend in Vermont for a roundtable. A special request from Walter Chin, my colleague. Oh, he also knows Charlie. We play cards. It’s a horrible imposition on Casey, but I didn’t realize that summer interns worked during the weekends. I hope you don’t have to work weekends, too, Karyn.”
“No, not every weekend.” Karyn smiled shyly. “Have you worked every weekend?” she asked Casey with concern in her voice.
“I had last Saturday off,” Casey replied, recalling P-rade. Jay’s business card was still in her wallet. “And I had a Sunday off. Two weeks back? It doesn’t matter. I can work this weekend. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I’ll talk to Larry, then,” Karyn said. “Why don’t you do this. . . roundtable, then? I didn’t realize you’d been working so much.”
“Karyn, really, I don’t mind. I like to work.”
Hugh smiled at Casey. If he could’ve kicked her under her desk, he would have.
“No, no,” Karyn said, her voice rich with sisterly kindness. “I’ll talk to Larry.”
“You are such a darling. To do that for me. Casey is very lucky to work with you,” Hugh said, smiling at her with unbroken concentration. “Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”
Karyn smiled anxiously and checked her bare hands. She touched her hair. “Well, bye, then.”
She left them, and out of politeness, Hugh turned to watch her walk out. If Karyn decided to turn around, she’d see that he had been attentive to her completely. This was something women seemed to want even as they professed resentment at being treated like pieces of meat. Why else would they swish their hips when they strolled away? They wanted you to check out their ass.
“You big phony bastard,” Casey wrote on her legal pad, then drew a smiley face.
“I am big,” he scribbled. “And you, Casey Cat, need a weekend in Vermont. It will be beautiful. And you have the best possible golf clubs. Say yes, dear Casey.”
Casey yawned and stretched her arms.
“I’ll pick you up at 7 o’clock on Friday night. The clients are meeting us there. We’ll be teeing off at 8 A.M. the next morning,” he wrote.
“You are such a presumptuous bastard,” she wrote.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I would kiss you right now if I could,” he wrote.
“Ick,” she wrote back. Hugh patted her back and left her office.
On Friday morning, Unu watched Casey finish up her packing for her trip to Vermont. She was running late.
“We met at a golf outing,” he said with diffidence.
“Yes, we did.” Casey smiled to be pleasant. She unzipped the enormous canvas golf bag used for airplane checkin, and Unu lifted her clubs into the bag for her. She tried to imagine walking into the office carrying her golf clubs.
“You haven’t golfed in a while.”
“No, I haven’t. I hope I won’t embarrass myself.” She felt awkward going to this without him. He hadn’t golfed in a while, either. “Maybe we can go after my internship ends and before school starts again. We can drive out to Jersey. Or at least hit a bucket at Chelsea Piers. Hey, where did I leave my watch?” She looked around the living room. Her watch was next to her keys by the door. “Oh,” she said, noticing where it was, then picked up her handbag. “What time is it, honey? Rats, I don’t want to be late.”