He took a piece of bread from the bowl at the center of the round table and started buttering it. Everything felt so maddeningly casual.
“Sure. I’ll start. First, I just have to say that it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Samantha. It sounds like you and Eddie Kaufman are two of the best things to ever happen to Andie. I know you’re both working tirelessly toward the best possible outcome.”
“Eddie is the best there is. She chose well,” I said with as much poise as I could muster.
He nodded thoughtfully. “A few days ago, I got a phone call from my old college buddy, who heads up one of the more successfulpublishing houses. He said he had an early manuscript he thought I’d find fascinating.”
George Brenner took a sip of Pellegrino. “I read what was on the page in one sitting. Obviously, we won’t know how the story ends until the case is resolved. But I called my agent and said I’d found my next project. Between the story itself and Andie as a protagonist, the screenplay basically writes itself. I already have half of it mapped out in my head.”
My head was spinning. “Oh, wow. That’s incredible news. The book isn’t even published yet—Andie, you should try to negotiate a higher advance,” I said, only half joking.
“I’m thinking about it,” she said lightly.
He looked pleased. “Andie has agreed to work with me on fleshing out the story and characters. I’d like to tell the story through the lens of the legal proceedings. Which is why I asked Andie if the three of us could meet.”
I glanced at Andie. I had no idea what he was about to say, but it felt like I was floating out of my body, watching the scene unfold like in one of his movies.
“I have a self-defeating obsession with writing about things I know nothing about. But I’ve gotten pretty good at finding the best people to help me overcome whatever the subject-matter handicap is, and that’s where you come in—because to be able to write the story I really want to tell, I need to know everything about the law Andie is accused of breaking and all the inside baseball of a federal indictment.”
He finished the last bite of bread. “I’ll get directly to the point. I’d like you to work for me as a story consultant, meaning I would pay you hourly to answer all my questions. With Andie’s permission, of course.”
The words hung in the air as the waiter returned to take our order. Andie ordered the Nicoise, and George ordered the burger with fries. I’d been too distracted to look at the menu but figured every hotel had some version of a Cobb salad.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, for both of us,” she said to me.
The rest of lunch was a blur. He excused himself immediately after picking up the check, and I promised to figure out a way to work with him that wouldn’t get me fired from my day job by violating attorney-client privilege and confidentiality. Even if Andie gave her blessing, like the book itself, this felt like another gray area that was likely to spook Eddie. Not to mention I was already spending a lot of time on nonlegal work by editing the book. I worried whether even asking the question would make me look less serious about the work I was actually there to do.
Andie walked me back to the office to debrief.
“You know this means my book has a shot at selling more than one copy,” she said as we walked south down Park Avenue. “George doesn’t make bad movies.”
“This is unreal.”
She smiled proudly. “I said I’d help you meet the right people in Hollywood.”
I shook my head. “This transcends Hollywood. He’s a creative genius. No one even comes close.”
“The publisher is really delivering, huh?”
“Seriously.College buddies?”
“What are you going to tell Eddie?” she asked.
“I have to figure out a way to convince him to be okay with it so I can get the firm’s blessing. I’m more worried about that.”
“Do you want me to send an email sayingIwant you to do it? Doesn’t the firm have to do what the client wants?”
I could easily see the firm telling me it was either my job or Hollywood, but not both.
When I got back to my desk, Patricia had emailed a large PDF file of documents to review for the Film at Lincoln Center pro bono matter.This one’s picking up next week,the email said. I hadn’t even thought about Lincoln Center in weeks.
I tried my best to focus while mentally plotting the best way to talk to Eddie about George Brenner’s offer. I wanted him to take me seriously as a lawyer and not come off as flighty or distracted by the shiny things that somehow kept coming my way. It seemed like no matter what, I wasn’t going to be able to balance everything.
At 4:30 p.m., I gave up trying to focus and texted Emilie that I’d be at her apartment by seven for a predinner cocktail.
I went home, showered without washing my hair, then put on black jeans, a white top, and a cropped black blazer.
I could hear hip hop blasting from her apartment before the elevator even opened. I held up a bottle of sparkling rosé. “It’s French,” I announced.
