Page 30 of The Law of Attraction

‘Can’t a man just want a drink?’ I ask, moving to sit on the leather sofa.

‘A man, yes. You, at this hour, no. Spill.’

‘Sarah, there’s nothing to spill.’

‘It’s Becky, isn’t it? She’s gotten under your skin.’

I don’t reply. I stare at the abstract aluminum art on my wall.

‘I had brunch with her on Saturday, and I’ve got to tell you, she’s great. Normal. There’s a lot to be said for normal in this city.’

I know exactly what Sarah means. But Becky isn’t normal. She’s far from normal. There isn’t a stereotype I could fit her into. She breaks every mold. She’s smart, funny, incredible looking. And there’s no pretense with her. That’s definitely uncommon in the city.

‘I’ve never known you to want anything more than a one-night stand with any woman besides your mother, your sister and me, all of which would be very wrong, for the record. Yet, you can’t stay away from Becky.’ She’s calling me out and I don’t like it. To even consider Becky as more than a one-night stand rocks me to the core.

‘I took her to the game because I was being nice. Not romantic. Not looking for anything. I was just… Damn it, Sarah, you told me to take her.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Well, you told me she needed a friend. Same thing. And I’ve got work to do. So…’

I move across my office and open my laptop, dropping heavily into my desk chair and keeping my focus on anything other than Sarah.

She stands. ‘Fine. I’m just calling it how I see it, Drew. But I think you like her. And I think you’re afraid because you’ve never really allowed yourself to like anyone before.’

‘You need to go take a pill or something, Sarah.’

‘Maybe I do. I must be crazy to have stood by you all these years.’ She moves huffily to my door. With her hand braced on the handle, she tells me, ‘It doesn’t always have to be about work, Drew. You’re entitled to a life too.’

I lift my head to look at her. ‘No, Sarah, it is about work. It’s about making a life for myself that a lot of people aren’t fortunate enough to be able to. And right now, there’s a hell of a lot going on in this firm.’

The sharp attitude I saw just moments ago is replaced by something I like even less. Pity. ‘I overstepped. I’m sorry. Just… don’t waste precious time if you like her. God knows life can be too short.’

Now it’s my turn to pity her. Her husband, one of my best buddies, died in his early thirties and I held her when it happened. I don’t force her to try to see anyone else, even though it’s been five years. But I hear her pain now, and I’m an asshat for bringing it to the front of her mind.

She dips her head as we tell each other in a look that we understand each other.

‘I invited her to Staten Island for the weekend.’

‘And?’

‘She was going to say no. I don’t even know why I asked her. I just thought, she could see the boardwalk and…’

‘You want her to go with you to see your family. As I said, you like her.’

With an I-told-you-so smirk, Sarah goes back to her desk, and at least between us, the world is right again.

* * *

I’ve spent the day putting out fires and fixing Malcolm’s case. A few calls were all it took to reach a settlement. It turns out Malcolm was panicking over some flaky kid, who was looking to make a quick buck by riding on someone else’s idea.

I send one of the associates out of my office with instructions to draft a settlement agreement and check my watch. Done for the day at 9 p.m. Not bad at all.

As I let my head hang over the back of my desk chair, I think about what Sarah said earlier. Life is too short. She’s right. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my folks and, regardless of the mess I made with British Becky, I should go to see them this weekend.

I pick up my cell phone from my desk and drop my sister a message to tell her I’ll be there – Aunt Kathleen’s farts and all.

When I look up from my phone, Marty is making his way past the glass wall of my office and to my door.

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