揑抣l come home for Christmas, then. Just let me know your schedule.?
揧ou could always visit your father, you know,?she says tentatively. 揑抦 sure he抎 love to see you.?
I wince. I抦 not sure how my mother is so big-hearted, but it抯 a quality I did not inherit卆nd I抦 glad. Seeing the best in people and forgiving the worst has never gotten a female anywhere, as far as I can tell. 揑抣l think about it, Mom,?I reply, which is a polite over my dead body, and his as well, and she knows it.
When we hang up, I find a parking spot and brace myself for the last event of the day and by far the worst: meeting a potential client, at Fields?request.
I hate doing it under the best of circumstances and am even less optimistic about tonight. West Forest Media could bring us a lot of work, but my impression of them and their CEO is that they are梬hat抯 the legal term?梔ouchey. I抦 young, female, reasonably attractive. It抯 a combination that seems to embolden even the most average of men to act like complete dicks, and these guys already seem like complete dicks.
I walk into the bar where West Forest抯 senior staff has been holding a post-retreat happy hour. When the CEO, Tim Webber, gives me a once-over as I introduce myself, I know this evening will go just as poorly as I expected.
揘ow I see why Fields insisted I抎 like you,?he says.
There are times when all you can do is ignore the innuendo. I take his extended hand, but my shake is firmer than it would have been.
揧ou look like that actress, the one with the桯ey, Jones!?he shouts to a guy near the bar. 揥ho does she look like??
揥onder Woman,?says Jones, and I stifle a sigh.
揟hat抯 it,?says Webber. 揥onder Woman. Gail something or other. You must hear that all the time.?
I force a smile. 揝he抯 a lot nicer than I am.?
He laughs, as if this was a joke when it was, in fact, a warning. 揑 bet that抯 not true.?He turns to the guy beside him. 揥e抮e going to the restaurant. Just bill the whole thing to me.?
His employees watch us move across the room, as if Webber抯 leading me upstairs to take my virginity, and when we reach the top floor, I understand why梩he restaurant is posh, quiet, and romantic. I抦 decidedly uncomfortable when he holds my chair for me then orders us a bottle of red without even asking me if I抎 like a drink. He抯 the type of guy who抯 experienced a bit of success and let it go to his head. I guarantee he cheats at everything梞arriage, taxes, corporate expenditures梐nd rationalizes all of it. I know men like this well. I was raised by one, after all.
I try to turn the conversation to his company抯 legal needs, and he waves me off. 揥e抣l get to all that. Are you hungry? Let抯 order some food.?
揑抳e eaten, thank you,?I say crisply. It抯 a lie, but I抦 not willing to be stuck with this man for ninety minutes over a steak dinner, especially not when he抯 clearly a let抯 mix business with pleasure kind of guy.
The waiter pours him a taste of the wine, and he swirls it in his glass, sniffs it, then swishes it in his mouth. He nods his approval without making eye contact, as if he抯 royalty.
It抯 obnoxious. I bet Ben Tate does the same fucking thing.
揝o, tell me what you do when you抮e not at work,?he says once the waiter is gone.
揑 work seven days a week,?I reply. 揑 rep棓
揥e need to change that,?he cuts in. 揧ou抮e way too pretty to spend all your free time working.?
Ugh.
I begin again. 揂s I was saying, I represented棓
揌ave you ever been on a yacht??he asks, and I give up. This guy does not give two shits what kind of work I抳e done. He probably doesn抰 even care that I went to law school. I抦 simply here to be his pretty audience for the night, and nothing more.
I patiently listen as he tells me about his yacht, namedrops every celebrity he抯 ever met and every model he抯 ever dated, and then shares a somewhat pointless story about partying with 揇emi?at Art Basel. What he does not do, no matter how many times I broach the topic, is discuss West Forest抯 legal needs.
Gemma Charles, FMG抯 first female partner, I repeat in my head.
I heave a sigh of relief when he pours the last of the wine in our glasses and throws his credit card on the table.
揌ave you ever gone sailing around Coronado??he asks. 揥e should go sometime.?
揕ike I said, I work seven days a week, so that would be a stretch. And speaking of work棓
He winks at me. 揧ou come with me to Coronado, I抦 happy to tell your boss we were working.?
My jaw has begun to ache with the effort of faking my polite smiles. 揑 prefer work to yachting, I抦 afraid.?
揑 can see you抮e going to be a challenge. That抯 okay. I like a challenge.?
I抦 not interested in being a challenge; I抦 interested in drumming up business, and we haven抰 spoken about work at all. How much longer do I have to pretend to care about this man抯 dumb hobbies and social life?