Page 6 of The Fall Affair

“Perhaps go on a date or two?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Let’s not talk crazy.”

Cassie smiled. “Baby steps.”

“Will you come with me wherever I end up?”

“Of course. We’re a team. Plus, we know too much about each other to get divorced.”

Cassie stayed for another hour before going home to have dinner with her husband. Once she was gone, I finally felt strong enough to turn on my cell phone. Dozens of messages came in once it illuminated. I scrolled through, reading the beginning of texts in preview—coworkers, a few attorney friends, all buzzing about me quitting. But the text that had come in at two in the morning was the only one I fully opened.

Harry Kasoff: Call me. We need to talk.

***

Interesting choice of restaurants.

After I’d texted him back, Harry asked me to meet for lunch on Monday to talk in person. The firm had three go-to places for business lunches: Salt, when it was casual and quick; Vellutto, for important clients; and Verde & Vine, when the partners were going alone. All were within a three-block radius of our East Side office. Yet Harry had told me to meet him at a place I’d never heard of, which turned out to be on the West Side and thirty blocks north. Why had he picked a place so far away? The answer could’ve been as simple as he had an appointment in the area right before or after we were meeting, but my gut told me that wasn’t it.

The Ellington Room was a small restaurant with dark wood paneling and portraits of jazz musicians in the entry area. It was upscale and intimate, not the kind of place I’d expect to meet the boss, especially after I told him off the last time we spoke. I gave my name to the hostess, who told me the other party was already seated and took me to a booth in the back of the restaurant.

Harry didn’t bother to stand when I arrived at the table. But he probably wouldn’t have on a good day.

I nodded. “Hello, Harry.”

He gestured across from him. “Have a seat.”

I slid in, and the hostess asked if she could take my drink order. My eyes flitted to the table in front of Harry, where two fingers of scotch sat in a crystal glass. I really could’ve used a drink to calm my nerves, but after what had happened on Friday night, I thought better of it and ordered a seltzer with lemon.

Once it was only the two of us, I folded my hands on the table. I wasn’t sure why I was here, but the first rule of negotiation was to remain quiet when you hit an impasse—the first party to speak usually loses. Harry didn’t make me wait long before jumping in.

“I’ll make you partner if you sign a confidentiality agreement.”

I tilted my head. “What am I agreeing to keep quiet?”

He grumbled something under his breath before answering. “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

I thought about it. Partnership was what I’d wanted all along, but getting it this way didn’t sit right. “What would you tell everyone at the office? Word is out that I quit.”

He frowned. “That you were upset when you didn’t make partner and were going to leave, but we didn’t want to lose you.”

Partnership and the partners groveling. That would work. Yet…something still niggled at me.

“Do you think Sierra deserved partnership based on her legal work?”

Harry’s face heated. “What the hell difference does that make?”

I shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. But I’d still like to know.”

“She’s a decent lawyer.”

“So are the rest of the attorneys at Kasoff, Faust & Moore. You only hire from the Ivys, and you send your recruiting manager to watch potential employees compete in moot court. You stack the deck, so you usually find yourself holding a winning hand.”

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“Why wasn’t I offered partnership? I bill more than anyone and manage a heavy caseload. I also have more trial experience than people who’ve been doing this job twice as long.”

“Maybe it’s because of the way you’re acting right now. Entitled.”