asked.
“Yes, you told me that you’re really six feet tall.”
“I want to tell you about the biggest one tonight. I am really very rich.”
He appeared also very drunk.
“I have about seventy-five million dollars in my accounts.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to value more, that he loved me or that he was really wealthy? Or was I that awfully lucky woman who had found a rich man and he loved me? It was supposed to be, of course, the best of all possible worlds.
“I bet the people in here don’t have a clue how rich I am,” he said as we walked out of the restaurant.
I drove his car through the pouring rain down the dirt road back to the Inn. At one point I pulled over and looked at Len, with his seat pushed all the way down to relax his drunken body. Leaning over, I began to kiss and undress him and myself and climbed on top of him to make love.
On the following Monday morning, a massive arrangement of roses, peonies and calla lilies was delivered to my desk at work.
“I hope I’ve made you as happy as you’ve made me. Thanks for a wonderful weekend and the best birthday ever. Love, Len.”
While my colleagues marveled at the flowers, I sat daydreaming, enjoying my reflection in Len’s eyes. The flattery from him was constant and filled with words like fun, smart, fabulous mother, sexy and sweet. It felt hard to resist that reflection, given that I had not seen, or at least had not been willing to acknowledge, such desire and flattery since Jake.
Next to my briefcase on the desk sat the latest edition of New York magazine. Turning to the back of the magazine, I began looking through the personal ads. Just as quickly, I closed the magazine and smiled at my flowers. Len had provided a way out of that singles world and I was hoping to never enter it again.
CHAPTER 13
October
O n the list of people who were anxious to meet my new man, Jason and Elizabeth, two of my closest friends from Connecticut, ranked high.
Jason had interviewed me for my first job after passing the Bar, and within seconds of meeting him I knew I had landed in the right place. The first time I met him he radiated a warmth and kindness that struck a deep familiarity inside me. It took a few weeks to realize he reminded me of Jake.
After spending eight years as a mother, wife and caretaker, my legal skills were not rusty, they were untested. Yet it was Jason’s gentle prodding that led me into that world that lawyers inhabit, and after a year under his wing, I was well on my way. His endless patience would leave me always feeling grateful to him.
His wife, Elizabeth, who maintained an Isabella Rossellini beauty, once worked as a prosecutor under Giuliani. She had later gone on to become an associate at one of the premier New York white shoe law firms, but would end up in-house just like the rest of us - shunning the big bucks to spend time with her two little girls.
We met at Smith’s, an old, tiny, dark wood paneled restaurant overlooking the Connecticut River. The ceiling was low, the light fixtures hung even lower and the tables were dark wood with wooden spindle chairs.
“So Len, I hear you get to handle some interesting deals,” Jason began.
“Yes,” Len said.
“Must be quite a trip to be involved with deals that of that size,” Jason tried again.
“Yes.”
“I worked at St. Clair, James for a while and did some myself. The hours were exhausting. You must have a lot of stamina,” Elizabeth offered.
“I do.”
“I hear you have three great kids,” Jason said.
“Yes, three great kids.”
Silence for a moment as Jason, Elizabeth and I glanced at each other.
“I hear you live in New Jersey. I grew up there,” Elizabeth said.
Len remained silent.
“Elizabeth, I’m going to the ladies room. Want to come?” I asked.
Once we were at a safe distance from the table, Elizabeth asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He certainly doesn’t act like this with his friends,” I said baffled
“Yes, you told me that you’re really six feet tall.”
“I want to tell you about the biggest one tonight. I am really very rich.”
He appeared also very drunk.
“I have about seventy-five million dollars in my accounts.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to value more, that he loved me or that he was really wealthy? Or was I that awfully lucky woman who had found a rich man and he loved me? It was supposed to be, of course, the best of all possible worlds.
“I bet the people in here don’t have a clue how rich I am,” he said as we walked out of the restaurant.
I drove his car through the pouring rain down the dirt road back to the Inn. At one point I pulled over and looked at Len, with his seat pushed all the way down to relax his drunken body. Leaning over, I began to kiss and undress him and myself and climbed on top of him to make love.
On the following Monday morning, a massive arrangement of roses, peonies and calla lilies was delivered to my desk at work.
“I hope I’ve made you as happy as you’ve made me. Thanks for a wonderful weekend and the best birthday ever. Love, Len.”
While my colleagues marveled at the flowers, I sat daydreaming, enjoying my reflection in Len’s eyes. The flattery from him was constant and filled with words like fun, smart, fabulous mother, sexy and sweet. It felt hard to resist that reflection, given that I had not seen, or at least had not been willing to acknowledge, such desire and flattery since Jake.
Next to my briefcase on the desk sat the latest edition of New York magazine. Turning to the back of the magazine, I began looking through the personal ads. Just as quickly, I closed the magazine and smiled at my flowers. Len had provided a way out of that singles world and I was hoping to never enter it again.
CHAPTER 13
October
O n the list of people who were anxious to meet my new man, Jason and Elizabeth, two of my closest friends from Connecticut, ranked high.
Jason had interviewed me for my first job after passing the Bar, and within seconds of meeting him I knew I had landed in the right place. The first time I met him he radiated a warmth and kindness that struck a deep familiarity inside me. It took a few weeks to realize he reminded me of Jake.
After spending eight years as a mother, wife and caretaker, my legal skills were not rusty, they were untested. Yet it was Jason’s gentle prodding that led me into that world that lawyers inhabit, and after a year under his wing, I was well on my way. His endless patience would leave me always feeling grateful to him.
His wife, Elizabeth, who maintained an Isabella Rossellini beauty, once worked as a prosecutor under Giuliani. She had later gone on to become an associate at one of the premier New York white shoe law firms, but would end up in-house just like the rest of us - shunning the big bucks to spend time with her two little girls.
We met at Smith’s, an old, tiny, dark wood paneled restaurant overlooking the Connecticut River. The ceiling was low, the light fixtures hung even lower and the tables were dark wood with wooden spindle chairs.
“So Len, I hear you get to handle some interesting deals,” Jason began.
“Yes,” Len said.
“Must be quite a trip to be involved with deals that of that size,” Jason tried again.
“Yes.”
“I worked at St. Clair, James for a while and did some myself. The hours were exhausting. You must have a lot of stamina,” Elizabeth offered.
“I do.”
“I hear you have three great kids,” Jason said.
“Yes, three great kids.”
Silence for a moment as Jason, Elizabeth and I glanced at each other.
“I hear you live in New Jersey. I grew up there,” Elizabeth said.
Len remained silent.
“Elizabeth, I’m going to the ladies room. Want to come?” I asked.
Once we were at a safe distance from the table, Elizabeth asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He certainly doesn’t act like this with his friends,” I said baffled
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