Chapter Seven
I spotted Charlie in Grand Central leaning against the wall next to Joe’s, reading a book.
“Hey, early bird,” I said lamely.
He looked up and grinned. “Got here early. You’re never going to believe what I have for you. I literally couldn’t sleep.”
I laughed as I turned to order, pulling out the Amex that was creeping closer to my credit limit every day. “I’m almost scared to ask.”
He held up his wallet. “My treat. When you get on that case and save the movies and every celebrity from here to LA, I can say I bought you a latte when.”
“I should be buying you a latte for masterminding Thank You Thursdays.”
“That was all Lena. I just brought you into the fold. Anyway, save your money for celebratory cocktails.”
“You’re really keeping me in suspense.”
“The film gods are feeling surprisingly generous right now. Did you know the New York Film Festival just happens to be at the end of the month?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Nerd. Guess what’s happening Thursday night.”
“I have no idea.”
“The firm bought a table at the Film at Lincoln Center gala. It’s a fundraiser for this retrospective they’re doing on first-time filmmakers.”
“The firm ‘bought a table’? What does that mean?”
“One of the biggest perks of the job. The big part of Big Law.” He handed me a latte. “Seat fillers.”
“As in we get to go to these fundraisers?”
“If the firm needs to fill seats. Can’t have empty tables.”
“Will Eddie be there?”
“Probably not, but it’s a hell of a boondoggle way to mastermind your way into working with him on the pro bono stuff.”
“Wow. How do I get on the list to be a seat filler?”
He grinned. “We’re already in.”
On Sunday afternoon, I met Caroline for brunch at Buvette on Grove Street. I told her everything between bites of tomato and whipped goat cheese tartine, from the meeting with Eddie to the cocktail dress I’d found at Bloomingdale’s.
“Where does Lincoln Center do their galas?” Caroline asked.
“This one’s at Cipriani’s downtown.”
She smiled. “It’s pronounced Chip-riani’s.”
“Very glad I figured that out before Thursday.”
The waiter brought over a second French press.
“Do you have any idea what the pro bono case would be about?” Caroline asked, refilling my coffee mug.
I leaned in to be more discreet. Buvette was your typical West Village bistro, with tables so close to each other, it felt more like communal seating.
“Eddie just got on the board a couple months ago,” I explained.
“And he’s sending you in to charm them.”
I made a face. “Hardly. But it’s an awesome opportunity to meet people connected to the New York Film Festival and show initiative when I do finally get face time.”
I buttered a flaky croissant. “I’m actually really glad Charlie’s going. He’s so easygoing and can talk to anyone. Even if we’re at a table with ten other people who can’t make small talk, he’ll bring it out of all of them.”
Caroline leaned in. “So, what does he look like?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Average height, graying hair, apparently runs the New York Marathon every year, so he’s in pretty good shape. Otherwise looks like your typical partner, I guess.”
She laughed. “I meant Charlie.”
I took a sip of the mimosa, already feeling the effects of the pitcher that Caroline had ordered before I got there.
“Charlie’s nice looking. I don’t know. Glasses, a little scruffy.
Not what you would think of as an associate at a big firm, but honestly, he’s so smart and funny.
And he’s somehow always upbeat. It’s weirdly hard to have a bad day when he’s sitting five feet away,” I said, swirling the champagne flute to blend the orange juice that had floated above the prosecco.
“Anything there?”
I chuckled. “Absolutely not. Just an all-around nice guy.”
“Who you also just described as cute, smart, and funny.”
“Who is also my officemate,” I reminded her. “And even if he wasn’t, I’m not even close to being there. I didn’t leave Ben to meet someone else. I’m here to become someone.”
“Got it. So you have to become someone else before you meet someone special.”
“Right.” Every day I reminded myself that it took upending someone else’s life to finally have a chance at my own. Being single was my own form of penance. I needed to do this next part all on my own, without the distraction of someone holding me back.
“Okay, so you kick ass on this film festival thing, Eddie keeps putting you on cool stuff . . . What’s next? Making partner?”
I gingerly poked a grape tomato. “Oh, you know . . . make those Top 35 Under 35 lists . . . be in the know about all the trendiest restaurants . . . get invited to a client’s movie premiere . . . that kind of stuff.”
“What about just having some fun? Dip your toe in the dating theme park that is New York City?”
I shook my head. “No time.”
Caroline grinned. “That’s the perfect mindset for Tinder Social.”
I stacked an empty plate under another. “The last thing I want to do on a Friday night is explain to someone what happened in my ‘last serious relationship.’”
“When was the last time you were single?”
I squeezed one eye. “Eighteen?”
“Seriously?”
“Nineteen.”
She raised her mimosa. “Okay, babe, you’re gonna have to trust me on this. You have to learn how to be single in New York. Are you free Friday night?”
I cleared my throat. “I’ll probably be working late.”
“Let me see your phone.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “I will make this painless.”
I sighed, figuring I could play along now and get out of it later. I reluctantly unlocked my iPhone and handed it across the table. I leaned back and finished the mimosa as she took over my phone with comical intensity.
“Okay, I downloaded the app and made a skeleton profile, but you’re going to have to zhuzh it up later.”
“Sure.”
Caroline squealed. “There’s more to life than work. You’ll see.”
“If you say so.”
“The most fun thing you have lined up is a charity gala with a bunch of stiffs.”
“And Charlie!”
She smiled. “We’ll get you out there.”
Her phone dinged with a calendar alert. “Oh shit. I forgot I signed up for hot yoga.”
“You do hot yoga after mimosas?”
She shrugged. “You either do or you don’t. I’ve rolled the hot yoga dice so many times I’ve lost count.”
“I don’t think I know what that means, but brunch is on me. I never even got you a thank you gift for finding me an apartment.”
“I don’t need you to pay for brunch. Go on a Tinder Social date with me instead.”
I groaned. “No promises.”
Caroline was distractedly looking at her phone.
“I’m obsessed with this yoga studio, by the way.
It’s on Greenwich Street, like five minutes from our building.
” She leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know what it is, but I always get so turned on when I go to hot yoga. It’s so sensual. Maybe it’s just me.”
She signaled for the check. “This is going to sound like a weird segue, but you should totally come with me.”
We both burst out laughing. “I guess I can roll the hot yoga dice with you.”