that’s why I’m so happy to hear a familiar female voice burst out of my cellphone this afternoon. “How’s my favourite Parisian?”
My dear friend Lisa and I attended law school together in California for a year and reconnected when I transferred to the New York offices of Edwards & White. I miss our chats, our shopping sprees, and, most importantly, our mutual support. I do have some friends in Paris, but most of them are married, have children, and have moved to the suburbs, so our lives don’t intersect as much as they used to.
“Lisa! So happy to hear from you. How are you?”
“Things are great. Work is crazy, as usual, and Charles and I are busy planning the wedding. I hope your mother is still okay with us having it at her beautiful home?”
Lisa had asked if she and her fiancé could get married at my mother’s property in the south of France. Given my mother’s workload, I realize now that organizing Lisa’s wedding might be bit of a stretch, but I keep that to myself. Knowing how much this means to Lisa, I’ll gladly pitch in; after all, it will give me an excuse to shop on someone else’s budget.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you here in Paris. My mother will take care of the decor and flowers.”
“That’s wonderful, but it isn’t why I called,” Lisa says, suddenly serious.
Given her tone of voice, I figure it can’t be good news. “
Ah bon?
What’s going on?”
“It’s about Jeffrey.”
I feel my insides becoming as tight as a knot. I’ve put thoughts of my ex-boyfriend at the back of my mind, in a place only my subconscious visits, usually at night. But I knew I would hear about him sooner or later. I was the one who reported his wrongdoings to the Securities and Exchange Commission, and some follow-up was inevitable.
“Okay. What about him?” I’m frozen in my chair, breathless.
“I guess you haven’t read the papers yet? He was indicted this morning. It’s all over the
Journal
.”
At the time of his company’s initial public offering, Jeffrey requested that I illegally transfer shares into an offshore bank account in his name. He was the chief financial officer of the company, I was acting as legal counsel on the deal, and we were dating. I subsequently sent a letter to the SEC, then got him to repeat his outrageous request on tape. I have visions of Jeffrey appearing in front of a grand jury in handcuffs, unshaven, flanked by members of the NYPD, all the while cursing me over and over.
“I didn’t realize it was today.” I feel silly for not having paid closer attention to the case. I’ve been so ashamed about the whole mess that I’ve purposely avoided hearing anything about it.
“The article mentions that he lost his job, had most of his assets frozen, and had his passport confiscated. I guess that’s what you call karmic payback,” Lisa says.
It suddenly occurs to me that my letter to the SEC mighthave been leaked to the press. I ask, “Does the article mention anything about my letter?”
“No, don’t worry. Your name isn’t mentioned. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I thought you should know.”
“Thanks, Lisa, I appreciate it. But I’ll feel much better when that part of my life is behind me for good.”
“Maybe we’ll be able to celebrate that at my wedding,” she says.
I certainly hope so.
“There’s somewhere we need to be right now,” Rikash calls out. His hands flutter around his head, and he wipes his brow with a silk polka dot handkerchief before whisking me up from my chair. I give him a curious look, but he’s silent until we reach the elevators.
“Photo shoot,” he says, after pressing the call button.
“For what?”
“You’ll see.”
“We need to wait for the light,” the photographer declares to no one in particular. We’ve just entered a huge white room filled with fashion assistants, makeup artists, hair stylists, and a contingent from the Dior publicity team. “The
My dear friend Lisa and I attended law school together in California for a year and reconnected when I transferred to the New York offices of Edwards & White. I miss our chats, our shopping sprees, and, most importantly, our mutual support. I do have some friends in Paris, but most of them are married, have children, and have moved to the suburbs, so our lives don’t intersect as much as they used to.
“Lisa! So happy to hear from you. How are you?”
“Things are great. Work is crazy, as usual, and Charles and I are busy planning the wedding. I hope your mother is still okay with us having it at her beautiful home?”
Lisa had asked if she and her fiancé could get married at my mother’s property in the south of France. Given my mother’s workload, I realize now that organizing Lisa’s wedding might be bit of a stretch, but I keep that to myself. Knowing how much this means to Lisa, I’ll gladly pitch in; after all, it will give me an excuse to shop on someone else’s budget.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you here in Paris. My mother will take care of the decor and flowers.”
“That’s wonderful, but it isn’t why I called,” Lisa says, suddenly serious.
Given her tone of voice, I figure it can’t be good news. “
Ah bon?
What’s going on?”
“It’s about Jeffrey.”
I feel my insides becoming as tight as a knot. I’ve put thoughts of my ex-boyfriend at the back of my mind, in a place only my subconscious visits, usually at night. But I knew I would hear about him sooner or later. I was the one who reported his wrongdoings to the Securities and Exchange Commission, and some follow-up was inevitable.
“Okay. What about him?” I’m frozen in my chair, breathless.
“I guess you haven’t read the papers yet? He was indicted this morning. It’s all over the
Journal
.”
At the time of his company’s initial public offering, Jeffrey requested that I illegally transfer shares into an offshore bank account in his name. He was the chief financial officer of the company, I was acting as legal counsel on the deal, and we were dating. I subsequently sent a letter to the SEC, then got him to repeat his outrageous request on tape. I have visions of Jeffrey appearing in front of a grand jury in handcuffs, unshaven, flanked by members of the NYPD, all the while cursing me over and over.
“I didn’t realize it was today.” I feel silly for not having paid closer attention to the case. I’ve been so ashamed about the whole mess that I’ve purposely avoided hearing anything about it.
“The article mentions that he lost his job, had most of his assets frozen, and had his passport confiscated. I guess that’s what you call karmic payback,” Lisa says.
It suddenly occurs to me that my letter to the SEC mighthave been leaked to the press. I ask, “Does the article mention anything about my letter?”
“No, don’t worry. Your name isn’t mentioned. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I thought you should know.”
“Thanks, Lisa, I appreciate it. But I’ll feel much better when that part of my life is behind me for good.”
“Maybe we’ll be able to celebrate that at my wedding,” she says.
I certainly hope so.
“There’s somewhere we need to be right now,” Rikash calls out. His hands flutter around his head, and he wipes his brow with a silk polka dot handkerchief before whisking me up from my chair. I give him a curious look, but he’s silent until we reach the elevators.
“Photo shoot,” he says, after pressing the call button.
“For what?”
“You’ll see.”
“We need to wait for the light,” the photographer declares to no one in particular. We’ve just entered a huge white room filled with fashion assistants, makeup artists, hair stylists, and a contingent from the Dior publicity team. “The
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