“What did you say?” he asked as he scrolled through his contact list.
“That I needed to ask you first. Of course,” I said quickly.
“Would he want you to start right away?”
I told him we hadn’t gotten that far.
He paused and lightly chewed the tip of his pen.
“You don’t say no to that. That’s a door-opener.”
I nodded hopefully. “I really want to do it, but not if it means putting the firm in a bad spot.”
“Yeah. Well, this would be a much easier sell if she pleaded guilty and we weren’t actively representing her anymore.”
I told him about Andie wanting to plead.
He nodded. “Well then, that’s great news all around. I’ve been hoping she’d come around. There’s no way we’re ever going to get these prosecutors to drop the charges. She just has to take her lumps and get on with it.”
“Does that mean I can tell George Brenner yes? Once she pleads guilty, I mean?”
“Make sure he knows it’s ultimately the firm’s decision. But if she pleads, I don’t have an issue with it.” He put his readers back on and looked at me seriously. “But Samantha, whether it’s time spent editing the book or consulting for George Brenner, your work for the firm can’t suffer. Otherwise, I won’t continue to be supportive.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Understood. I can manage.”
I silently hoped George Brenner could wait.
Chapter Twenty-Five
That evening, I took the subway up to Seventy-Second Street and walked over to Campagnola, a timeless Italian eatery on First Avenue. I handed the maître d’ my coat as he showed me to Leo’s table. I wondered if the dinner would be business as usual. Only our past dinners had always veered away from talking business.
“You made it,” he said enthusiastically, greeting me with a friendly hug. He pulled out my chair and motioned for me to sit down.
“Come up with any more brilliant ideas since this morning?”
“Let’s see if it gets us anywhere,” I said modestly. “Like you said, they might call our bluff.”
He leaned in. “I’m going to give you some advice that it took me way too long to practice. You’ve got to celebrate every small win along the way. If you wait until the outcome you’re hoping for, you lose sight of all the tiny moments that got you there.”
He poured a glass of red wine from a carafe. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying take your eye off the prize. But what you did is worth a pat on the back, regardless of whether they settle.”
He raised his glass. “To all the small moments.”
I toasted back, feeling self-conscious as I wondered if he’d gotten better looking since the last time I’d seen him.
“How are Aldous and Kingsley?”
He grimaced. “Slowly killing me. They have more energy in an hour than I have in a month. We just hired a second nanny to tag-team, because the one we had threatened to quit.”
“No kidding.”
“They’re not easy. Or cheap.” He took a sip of wine. “I asked Jessica if we could leave them with her parents for Thanksgiving and go to Anguilla, just the two of us. She looked at me like I had two heads.”
“Could you take them with you?”
“I wouldn’t take them anywhere without both nannies.”
“Oh boy.”
