worn like a badge of honour. You have to go out there every day and fight for it.”
“I guess I just prefer to keep the details of my financial situation private,” I say as we slip out the door past the hostess and I raise my hand to flag a cab.
“Come on, Cat, lighten up! That’s what makes living in New York so exciting!” Lisa exclaims as we climb into the stuffy car. “Making the money and spending it. These girls are so much fun, you’ll see.”
Although Lisa and I get along, when it comes to friends and acquaintances, we can be oceans apart: I can’t stand mindless chatter and prefer to stay at home watching a movie or reading a good book, while Lisa’s a social animal who needs to go out even when the entourage sounds like a high-maintenance version of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
“Okay, if you say so.”
For the sake of our friendship, I keep quiet for the rest of the ride. I mentally prepare for our upcoming competitive dinner conversation as we make our way uptown to the Upper East Side.
My jaw drops at the sight of Daniel’s decor: soaring ceilings, sparkling crystal glasses, Bernardaud china, and clusters ofroses meticulously placed throughout the room. We take our seats, and, as anticipated, the tone of the evening’s conversation is set.
“I can’t wait for Memorial Day,” Amanda starts. “My boyfriend rented a house for us in East Hampton. We love taking our new Porsche for a ride out there.”
And they’re off!
“Unfortunately, I won’t be there this year. I really need a break from the city. I’m heading to a private island.” Leanne moves into first place.
“So, Catherine, what are you doing for the Memorial Day weekend?” Beverley asks perkily.
I give Lisa a panicked look. Long-weekend planning isn’t billable so it’s been the last thing on my mind. Suddenly, I wish I had mobilized Rikash on my summer plans.
“Um, don’t know yet. Frankly, it’s hard for me to make plans these days with work being so hectic.”
All three of them stare at me in silence with a look of disappointment. Clearly we’re not going to be best friends. Despite the fact that I have no interest in being one of these girls, I suddenly feel completely uninteresting and bland.
“Give Catherine a break, she just moved here!” Lisa tries to rescue me from my pathetic social life.
“I can’t wait. I’m getting my hair done at John Frieda next week.” Lisa changes the subject to outrageously priced beauty treatments. I hope she hasn’t lost her down-to-earth side to become as precious as her friends.
“Oooh,” they all coo at the same time.
“I’m going for a peel next week at Elizabeth Arden. My skin is so dull looking, I look like I’m in my late thirties—so scary.”
The waiter finally arrives to take our order and saves me from spa hell.
“Mademoiselle ,” he addresses me first. His piercing blue eyes look right through me and this gives me a frisson.
“Bonsoir, monsieur, je vais prendre le ravioli en entrée ainsi que votre filet de sole, merci.”
The three of them gape at me. Score one for Catherine; go ahead, ladies, and try to match that. I watch gleefully as all three awkwardly place their orders, steering clear of pronouncing anything in French on their menu. I spend the next fifteen minutes thoroughly investigating Daniel’s red wine list. Once our meals arrive, Lisa and I dig into our ravioli while the rest of them fiddle with their dressing-free arugula salads.
My savouring the pasta is interrupted by the buzzing of my BlackBerry. I’ve received an email from Antoine.
I need to discuss an urgent matter. Do you have a couple of minutes?
I excuse myself from the table and rush to the ladies room. I need to respond to his message without letting on that I’m out on the town and have had a few Comtesse cocktails and glasses of wine. Just keep your cool, Catherine, and remain vague.
I reply with:
Of course. Can you tell me what it’s regarding? I’m working
“I guess I just prefer to keep the details of my financial situation private,” I say as we slip out the door past the hostess and I raise my hand to flag a cab.
“Come on, Cat, lighten up! That’s what makes living in New York so exciting!” Lisa exclaims as we climb into the stuffy car. “Making the money and spending it. These girls are so much fun, you’ll see.”
Although Lisa and I get along, when it comes to friends and acquaintances, we can be oceans apart: I can’t stand mindless chatter and prefer to stay at home watching a movie or reading a good book, while Lisa’s a social animal who needs to go out even when the entourage sounds like a high-maintenance version of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
“Okay, if you say so.”
For the sake of our friendship, I keep quiet for the rest of the ride. I mentally prepare for our upcoming competitive dinner conversation as we make our way uptown to the Upper East Side.
My jaw drops at the sight of Daniel’s decor: soaring ceilings, sparkling crystal glasses, Bernardaud china, and clusters ofroses meticulously placed throughout the room. We take our seats, and, as anticipated, the tone of the evening’s conversation is set.
“I can’t wait for Memorial Day,” Amanda starts. “My boyfriend rented a house for us in East Hampton. We love taking our new Porsche for a ride out there.”
And they’re off!
“Unfortunately, I won’t be there this year. I really need a break from the city. I’m heading to a private island.” Leanne moves into first place.
“So, Catherine, what are you doing for the Memorial Day weekend?” Beverley asks perkily.
I give Lisa a panicked look. Long-weekend planning isn’t billable so it’s been the last thing on my mind. Suddenly, I wish I had mobilized Rikash on my summer plans.
“Um, don’t know yet. Frankly, it’s hard for me to make plans these days with work being so hectic.”
All three of them stare at me in silence with a look of disappointment. Clearly we’re not going to be best friends. Despite the fact that I have no interest in being one of these girls, I suddenly feel completely uninteresting and bland.
“Give Catherine a break, she just moved here!” Lisa tries to rescue me from my pathetic social life.
“I can’t wait. I’m getting my hair done at John Frieda next week.” Lisa changes the subject to outrageously priced beauty treatments. I hope she hasn’t lost her down-to-earth side to become as precious as her friends.
“Oooh,” they all coo at the same time.
“I’m going for a peel next week at Elizabeth Arden. My skin is so dull looking, I look like I’m in my late thirties—so scary.”
The waiter finally arrives to take our order and saves me from spa hell.
“Mademoiselle ,” he addresses me first. His piercing blue eyes look right through me and this gives me a frisson.
“Bonsoir, monsieur, je vais prendre le ravioli en entrée ainsi que votre filet de sole, merci.”
The three of them gape at me. Score one for Catherine; go ahead, ladies, and try to match that. I watch gleefully as all three awkwardly place their orders, steering clear of pronouncing anything in French on their menu. I spend the next fifteen minutes thoroughly investigating Daniel’s red wine list. Once our meals arrive, Lisa and I dig into our ravioli while the rest of them fiddle with their dressing-free arugula salads.
My savouring the pasta is interrupted by the buzzing of my BlackBerry. I’ve received an email from Antoine.
I need to discuss an urgent matter. Do you have a couple of minutes?
I excuse myself from the table and rush to the ladies room. I need to respond to his message without letting on that I’m out on the town and have had a few Comtesse cocktails and glasses of wine. Just keep your cool, Catherine, and remain vague.
I reply with:
Of course. Can you tell me what it’s regarding? I’m working
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