Page 4 of Partner Pursuit
“I think you got your wish,” Audrey said wryly.
“A hot guy?” Eve smoothed her hands on her apron and raised hereyebrows.
“But he thinks dating in NY for guys is like shooting fish ina barrel.”
“He said that to you? What kind of conversation didyouhave?”
“No, he was on the phone with a friend who was just dumped,” Audrey said, arranging the flowersin avase.
“Oh, I see. He must be reallygood-lookingthen.”
“Yes, but he knows it. So that makes him less attractive.” Or it shouldhave.
“I wouldn’t hold that against him,” Eve said. “Mygood-lookingguy friends always say how easy dating in New York is for them. And remember when Max had that consulting gig down south for six months and complained about how much harder he had to work to get a date there compared to New York?” Max was part of their tight circle of friends from college.
“We weresonot sympathetic,” Audrey said with a smile. “And that’s why dating in NY is such a nightmare. Men always seem to be searching for that better girlfriend option around the corner.”
Eve shrugged. “New York is tough. Let’s eat on your balcony. You can enjoy a summer night outside now that you’veescaped.”
Audrey carried the salad bowl across the hallway to her rear duplex apartment. The minute she’d walked into it, she’d wanted it: light and airy, huge sliding glass doors, hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, clever closet solutions, outdoor space. The kitchen and living room were upstairs, with a small balcony, and a spiral staircase led to her bedroom downstairs, where a sliding glass door opened out onto a little backyard garden. Perfect apartment: check.
And she had been able to afford the down payment. Ever since her dad had died when she was in high school, she and her mom had had to worry about money. Her social life had taken a definite hit, but living at home with her mom for law school and for her first three years at the law firm had paid off. And her mom had been so relieved and proud that Audrey could buy this apartment.Yes, Mom, you don’t have to worryabout me.
Several months after her father’s death, she had tried to bring back their family game night, making tacos, putting out board games for two. Her mom had shaken her head, crying, and abandoned the table. Audrey had then remembered her all A’s report card and run after her mom, whose expression completely changed when she looked at it. Her mom was so happy that Audrey was keeping up her grades. That she was going to get into a good college. No more game nights. Just discussions about schoolwork. Eyes on the prize. And that prize was now the financial security and professional recognition of partnership.
Which was now at risk. A cold shivery feeling snaked through her. It had never been a sure thing, but now it seemed farther away. She was tired; she’d been working so hard this past year that she didn’t have the reserves to pull up to mount this one last push. She shook her head. She could do it.
The salad had fresh strawberries and blueberries. The tart, fruity smell of the balsamic vinaigrette dressing drifted up. Definitely a keeper for Eve’s menu. Audrey set the salad on the little square table on the small iron balcony that overlooked the gardens, going back inside to fetch wine and glasses.
Her phone beeped. She picked it up as Eve passed by with the cranberry curry chicken dish and a bowl of riceon atray.
Eve stopped abruptly. “Are you taking the night off or what? Put that phoneaway.”
She dropped the phone as if it were a hot pot. “Look who’s talking. Are you or are you not about to cook a new recipe on your night off?” She followed Eve out onto the balcony.
“That’s my love of cooking. And you. You need to eat ahome-cookedmeal every once ina while.”
“You’re the best,” Audrey said as they sat down at the table. “I’ll add someone who cooks to my list of boyfriend requirements.Make it impossible. It’s hard enough finding someone intelligent and attractive.” That was another reason she liked work. Law was logical. Case precedents gave guidance, and sometimes evenblack-and-whiteanswers.
“Good luck with that. What boyfriend is going to put up with these hours?”
“Another lawyer?”
“Well, that’s one point in Preppy Boy’s favor.”
Audrey smiled at the nickname Eve had given Tim. He was a preppy dresser, which wasn’t exactly her style. But he was still a good guy, ironed khakis notwithstanding. “His name isTim.”
“I prefer Preppy Boy,”Evesaid.
“What happens if we start dating?”
“Preppy Boy doesn’t have the guts to start dating you while you’re both up for partner at the same firm. I’ve told you that. But if he does, he’s got my respect and I’ll call him Tim.” Eve took a bite of her salad. “Or PreppyMan.”
“Lovely.” Audrey poured two glasses of wine. “Anyway, I’m not going to date him either while we’re up for partner. I’ve learned that lesson.”
An evening breeze lessened the heat of the day, carrying the smell of barbecued steak from a neighbor’s grill. She filled Eve in with the exact details of her bumping into thegood-lookingguy and how he’d rescued the little boy. A glow of warmth made her cheeks blush as she recalled his glance meeting hers, but she didn’t share that with Eve. It was nothing but two strangers smiling at each other on the street.
“Looks like they’re setting up a party down there,” Eve said, gesturing with her glass of wine to the garden next door. A bar with a bright yellow surfboard as the countertop dominated one corner of it, and citronella candles and strings of Chinese lanterns provided dim, atmospheric lighting. “Let’s see if your hot guyshows up.”
