Chapter Seventeen
Our first meeting with the prosecutors on Andie’s case was the following Monday. I was more anxious than she was. Most of the arguments Eddie was planning to make were based on documents that only I had reviewed and research I had done. I didn’t want to let either of them down.
I woke up early and ran to the store to get water bottles and granola bars—the “secret weapon” advice given to me by the senior associate who mentored me when I was a summer associate: Be the first-year who always has snacks handy.
Something about it felt sexist, but I did it anyway before hailing a cab downtown to meet Eddie and Andie, who were coming separately.
The all-male team of prosecutors assigned to Andie’s case reminded me of what Eddie promised Andie in our first meeting: My presence would ensure there would always be another woman in the room.
“Fellas,” Eddie acknowledged coolly.
Andie looked calm and collected. I could learn a thing or two.
I pulled out a folder with Eddie’s talking points so I could follow along. He barely looked at them. He knew exactly what he wanted to say and didn’t miss a beat. It was like watching a movie. Twenty minutes later, he finally took a breath.
“Look, guys. We’re about a month into this now, and that’s a month more than anyone should spend in defense of a baseless indictment.
There isn’t a shred of evidence that would support the felony you’re accusing her of.
We all know what this job is about, and it’s going after the bad guys, not a woman who, at worst, showed some bad judgment by dabbling in an elite poker game. This is a fool’s errand.”
The prosecutors stayed expressionless throughout Eddie’s impassioned monologue.
“Thanks, Eddie. That’s helpful. We do have a few questions for Andie, but why don’t we all take five first.”
They gave us the room, and Eddie handed me back the talking points.
“These were great, thanks.” I wanted to jump for joy like a little kid. Instead, I finally let myself breathe out fully.
“I brought some water and granola bars, if either of you needs anything.”
Andie nodded. “Water would be great. I feel like it was me talking for the last half an hour.”
I grabbed a bottle and handed one to her.
“Eddie, thank you. That was gr—” I heard the deafening whoosh before I saw it. My stomach dropped and everything around me seemed to move in slow motion. Carbonated water exploded out of the bottle, drenching her hair and face and now-see-through blouse.
She froze, a look of shock crossing her face just as the prosecutors walked back in. My heart hammered in my chest. Did that really just happen?
Andie dabbed her face with her palm. “Uh . . . excuse me for just a moment, I just need two minutes—can you point me to the nearest restroom?”
I jumped up, feeling my face flush with heat. “I’ll go grab paper towels . . . oh my god, I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry . . .”
I realized I had grabbed sparkling water instead of flat.
She laughed nervously. “Great icebreaker.”
The shorter prosecutor looked at the open water bottle and smirked. “The women’s bathroom is down the hall on the left.”
I was dying.
I followed Andie in the direction of the restroom. When the fuck had Smartwater started selling carbonated water?
The bathroom door closed behind us and Andie erupted in giggles as I stood there stoically.
“Oh my god, your face is priceless. Sam. Do not beat yourself up over this. Someday we’re going to tell this story. Only first, I really need paper towels. And maybe a hairdryer.”
I was still too embarrassed to feel relieved.
“Andie. I—I don’t even know what to say . . .”
“That’s okay, I think Eddie has enough to say for both of us. Damn, that man can talk.”
I removed the entire stack of paper towels from the dispenser. “I am . . . so sorry. This is the last thing you need right now.”
She started laughing all over again. “Honestly, it might be exactly what I needed. Stop apologizing. I’m just glad my mascara’s not running.”
“I really wanted today to go smoothly. Fuck,” I moaned, covering my face.
She tossed the towels and straightened her pencil skirt, then grabbed my hand. “Today is going to go however it goes. What matters is the work you put into getting Eddie ready for this meeting. Did you hear him in there?”
I smiled faintly. “He was really channeling My Cousin Vinny.”
She swung open the door decisively. “Let’s do this. I’ve already forgotten about you trying to drown me in seltzer.”
I planned to go home to change before meeting Connor and Emilie for dinner at Empellón on West Fourth Street, but by five o’clock, I was more than ready for the biggest margarita they had. I texted to say they could find me at the bar.
They got there half an hour later, dragging me to a corner table where Connor immediately announced he’d rented us a house upstate for the weekend.
“I’m sorry, why would you think I could just pick up and go away for the weekend?” I asked, taking the last sip of the Don Julio margarita I’d ordered while I was waiting.
“Sam. Come on. It’s barely forty-eight hours. We’re picking up the car in Midtown on Friday. You can jump in the back seat with your laptop and work the whole way. The house is fully stocked. The views are stunning. And we’ll have you back by Sunday night.”
I looked at Emilie, who just shrugged. “I know, neither of us does nature well. But he promised to never bring up again how we forgot his birthday.”
“Your birthday was a week before the bar—which you weren’t even taking,” I objected. For Connor, law school had always been just another thing to add to his résumé.
He grinned. “You are so right, Sam. Anyway, Emilie is in. Gillian is in. And—”
“Wait, the girl from yoga?” I gave Emilie a did you know that was still a thing? look.
“The woman from yoga,” he corrected me. “We also do SoulCycle now. But you should both know before this weekend that Gillian from yoga and SoulCycle is now my girlfriend,” Connor said proudly.
“As in, you’re not sleeping with anyone else?” I said doubtfully.
He looked crestfallen. “Do you both have such low opinions of me?”
Emilie coughed. “Lower, probably.”
“Ladies, please come to the Catskills. Observe me over the course of a weekend. I’ve changed.”
I shook my head as Connor held up his hand. “Observe me over a short weekend. Em, tell her you’re in so she’ll go.”
Emilie gave a resigned nod. “I have so much work that at this point, I’m just hoping self-sabotage will save me.”
I knew what she meant. “Ugh. Fine. But only if there’s Wi-Fi at the house, and you don’t force me to play a single board game.”
Connor smiled triumphantly. “Drinking games only.”