Morgan stood up. He felt a surge of energy through his veins, his skin felt like it was on fire. “I’m in,” he said.
Within seconds, every other man in the room stood up and joined him. Leonard’s eyes met each recruit as they pledged to be a part of this. Morgan looked at each one of them, silently bet himself that he would outearn each and every one of them. And he knew from the way their eyes met his that they were thinking the exact same thing.
Morgan Isaacs smiled.
Let the games begin.
“No second chances,” Leonard said. “I’ll see the rest of you on Monday.”
21
Amanda had just settled down on Henry’s couch with a glass of Pinot Noir, and the first sip tasted better than anything she’d eaten in weeks. She’d skipped dinner, but hell, wine had nutrients, didn’t it?
It had been one of those days that never wanted to end.
Her feet felt like they’d been trapped inside thimbles and she needed something to take the edge off. She’d been with a client at the office until nearly eight o’clock, and
Amanda had come to the pretty secure conclusion that humans were not meant to wear high heels for twelve straight hours. So by the time she got to his place, weary, weak, her dogs barking like nobody’s business, she wrenched that cork from the bottle faster than Pamela
Anderson dropped her drawers around a rock star.
And while all those excuses were reason enough to have a drink-whether or not she continued with the bottle depended on several factors-another reason was Henry.
Things were going well. They’d endured more rocky periods in their relationship than the next twenty couples combined, and she fully believed they’d come out stronger than ever. She never doubted his love for her. Even when that brain of his got in the way, which it often did, she knew it was only because he could be torn between the right thing to do and the smart thing to do. It still surprised her how rarely those two choices were one and the same.
Still, she’d learned a long time ago that trying to change him was not only impossible, but defeated the purpose and would undermine their entire relationship.
Henry was relentless. That was the bottom line, and God did she love him for it. As much as her heart pounded during the times where he scared her half to death with his latest bit of reckless behavior, it was that full throttle stopatnothingishness that made him a great reporter and a great partner. Sure he did stupid stuff. He was a guy; that was embedded in the DNA.
For every time he brought home flowers, he would leave his underwear hanging from the bedpost. For every time he said “I love you,” he would chew with his mouth open. But that’s what made them so great. He wasn’t fake and didn’t pretend to be perfect. Amanda had met plenty of guys who did everything right: held the door open for her, pulled her chair out at dinner, chewed with their mouth closed. But these men were nothing but painters, carpenters, covering up holes in the frame with pretty wallpaper or a fresh coat of paint. Eventually the hole would reveal the truth, and the facade would crumble. With Henry there was none of that. He wore his holes proudly.
Still, she wondered when they might take the next step.
Amanda was never one of those girls who dreamed about her wedding when she was six. She didn’t name her unborn children, or buy Modern Bride magazine. If love came, she would deal with it then. For years, love to Amanda was like taxes. You only thought about it when you had to.
Yet Henry had changed that. Every so often she would think about what he would look like in a tuxedo, and thought about who would be her maid of honor. She caught herself smiling at things she once found cheesy, and more than once had felt that terror-and joy-filled moment of anticipation when she thought he might pop the question.
Yet she didn’t want to rush him. Or rush herself. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to commit, and wanted to make that decision when the time came.
Still, it felt nice to think about it. If only once in a while.
Amanda heard someone jiggling the doorknob. She stood up, glass in hand, and watched as Henry entered the apartment. His sport jacket was rumpled, slacks dirty around the cuffs. There seemed to be some sort of dirt or substance, something gray and ashy on his lapels. He saw her and smiled, and that was enough to make her smile, too.
“Hey, hon,” he said, dropping his briefcase on the floor and joining her. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she hugged him back. “You smell like tannins.”
She held up the glass of Pinot. “Got started early. That kind of day, you know?”
“Do I know.” He went into the kitchen and took out a glass. Not a wine goblet, but a regular drinking glass.
Then he went over to the dining room table where she’d put a stopper in the open bottle. He wrenched out the plug and filled his glass up nearly three-quarters of the way.
Then Amanda watched in both horror and admiration as he downed the entire thing in one gulp. But when he went back for a refill, that’s when she stepped in and took the bottle.
“Let’s talk first,” she said. “That first glass was enough to knock you out.”
He looked at her, then back at the bottle, debating whether it was worth arguing over. Eventually he nodded and went over to the couch, plopping down and emitting a deep sigh as he plunged his head into the soft leather.
“So,” he said, his eyeballs straining to see her from his position. “Tell me about your day.”
“The Morgansterns were in today. They’ve been trying to keep custody of their adopted daughter for the past few months. The birth mother was a crack addict, and her daughter was taken away from her after she left her in an alley wrapped in newspaper. Apparently the mother managed to clean herself up, get a job, and most importantly marry a man with enough money to make a go at challenging for custody. It’s going to be long and it’s going to be ugly.”
“Do you think you can win?” Henry asked.
“I hope so. The adoptive parents deserve to keep the girl. The mother…she might have cleaned up, but there are certain people who you know aren’t good parents. I’ve met her twice, and neither time did she look me in the eye.
Her husband does all the talking. She stands there, hands folded across her lap, like she’s almost embarrassed.”
“You think he’s pressuring her to try and get the daughter back.”
“That’s what I think.”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “You’re gonna win.”
Amanda smiled. Moved over to Henry, clasped his hand, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Thanks, babe,” Amanda said, moving back to talking distance. “So how was your day? Any good stories? Jack keeping you on your toes?”
Henry looked at her, and immediately Amanda felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her smile disappeared. She’d seen that look before.
“There was an explosion today, on Park Avenue. An apartment…”
“Some lawyer, right?”
“That’s right. Brett Kaiser.”
“I saw that on the news. Terrible. The police are saying they think somebody murdered him.”