KB
I was both excited and dismayed. Excited that this seemed to be the first real legal work I had been given, dismayed that I didn’t have the experience or knowledge to complete it. Also dismayed because I had three other emails from Broward and I wasn’t sure what other nuggets of goodness those held.
The next two emails were tame by comparison, menial tasks that I would be able to quickly knock out. The last email was only two lines and gave me at least three new wrinkles.
From: Kent Broward
Subject: De Luca
Date: June 12, 2012 11:08:03 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
Julia,
Sheila said that De Luca was speaking to you in the kitchen. Has he been bothering you? Please keep your distance.
Kent
I groaned silently. Note to self: Sheila is a rat. “Has he been bothering you?” Ummm, don’t know how to answer that. “Keep your distance”? Wow. I seem to be following that advice superbly. I marked the email as Unread and vowed to reply to him later.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I recruited/begged/bribed Beverly to help with my corporate documents, and stumbled through the operating agreement on my own. I was grinding through the legal research when I glanced at my phone and saw the time: 8:30 p.m. My stomach was growling loudly when salvation appeared at the door. De Luca stood in the doorway, pizza and a six-pack of soda in his hands. I tried not to smile but failed miserably. He beamed back at me.
“I’m not happy to see you—it’s the pizza,” I said, pushing back from my desk and rubbing my eyes.
“Come on. I already had Todd scope out the office. This whole wing has left for the night. Your dangerous secret will be safe. Let’s eat in the conference room.”
I stretched and stood up. I was barefoot, and considered putting on my heels, but then decided against it and padded after him. I yawned. “Where’s Todd?”
“I sent him home once he gave me the lay of the land.”
“Does he know you’re over here?”
“I don’t know or care. Todd is a smart guy. I’m sure he can figure it out.”
Great. Just what I need.
“I’ll eat with you because I’m starving and not finished with work, but this is the last time I’m going to have any type of interaction with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Broward is already smelling something. He sent me an email about it today.”
“Ahh, yes. I got one of those also.”
“And?”
“And what? Do I seem the type to follow Broward’s directives?”
I shrugged in response. We had entered the West Wing conference room. The fluorescent lights were in the process of warming back up, so the light was still dim. I wrestled two of the Dr Peppers from the six-pack, placing them on the table. I put the other four cans in the minifridge and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Brad sat down and flipped open the pizza box, taking two slices and spinning the open box to me. I glanced in. Half pepperoni, half meat lover’s. I grabbed a slice of each and sat down, the two of us taking up one corner of the long table. There was silence for a moment as we dug in.
He spoke first. “So, this is the last time, huh?”
I nodded in response, my mouth full of pizza.
“You really think you’ll be able to stay away from me?”
“Oh, my lord!” I groaned and looked to the ceiling in mock exasperation. “Does your ego have no bounds? As I see it, you’ve been the one who can’t stay away.” I waved a pizza crust at him to emphasize my point.
“I take an interest in all of our interns. You are the future of our company.”
“Bullshit. Are you telling me you are bringing dinner to your favorite intern, Wu?”
“I’m not attracted to Wu.”
“And you are attracted to me?”
“Of course.” He had locked his ridiculously sexy stare on me and spoken softly, but with absolute confidence and conviction. I swallowed. I wanted this man so badly it hurt. Knowing I couldn’t have him made it that much more delicious.
“Well, if this is truly our last encounter, we might as well make it count.”
“Meaning what?” I squeaked.
“I want to know about you. Let’s finish our conversation from lunch. You can ask me anything you want, as long as I have the same privilege.”
“I’m not as exciting as you are.”
He turned that over in his mind, shaking his head gently as he thought god knew what. I started the game.
“I was told you were recently divorced. True?”
“Yes.”
“Details?”
He gave me a wry glance, put his hands together on the table, looked down at them and then at me.
“I have only been married once—to my college sweetheart. We were together eleven years, married for seven of those. Hillary is a great girl, but we were too different, too incompatible. I think we both realized our mistake early on. But we stayed together and miserable, hoping...I don’t know...that something would change. Nothing changed, and we separated.”
“Who represented her in the divorce?”
He smiled slightly. “No one. We both did it unrepresented.”
“That’s a little unfair.”
“It would have been if I hadn’t given her everything. There is nothing more she could have gotten. I’d say it was extremely fair.”
“Why did you give her everything?”
“I’ve seen divorce pull too many people to shreds. It turns people into horrible things, gets them to the point where they hate themselves as much as their exes. It happened to my parents, and is one of the reasons I went into this business. I make sure that I am the animal, the horrible one. I don’t want them to become that person. This way the couple stays civil and a fair arrangement is made.” He shrugged, taking another slice of pizza. “At least that’s the plan. It often goes astray.”
“I’m not buying the nobility you paint divorce attorneys with.”
“Hey, it normally works for chicks at the bar.” He grinned.
“Were you faithful?”
“To Hillary? No. I had an affair that lasted the last year of our marriage. It ended before my divorce, but was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“She found out?”
“I didn’t make much of an effort to hide it. I think I wanted to get caught, wanted a way out. She overlooked it for a while, until my affair started leaving her voice mails describing our indiscretions.”
“Why?”
“She wanted a relationship. My wife got in the way of that. I tried to break it off and she got mad, thought that she might have a chance if Hillary dumped me. Can we discuss something else?”
“Why did your parents divorce?”
His expression became even more pained. I was obviously choosing the wrong topics. “She disagreed with my father’s business practices, and it divided them. She eventually left us to be with a man she felt