Breach Of Promise

When they reached the conference room door, dozens of curious eyes watched them enter. Genevieve fielded smiles all around. Nina caught a few nods of wary respect.

She needed to smile more, like Genevieve.

After di

A week before, Paul had called her. After rehashing his disappointment that she had not been able to join him in Washington over the holidays, he told her he was on hiatus from his work there while some unexpected construction glitches got resolved, and had tied up some Carmel business, so he could make himself available. He had driven up that afternoon in his van and checked into his second home at Caesar’s to look into Mike Markov’s business and background and locate witnesses who would testify that Mike had presented Lindy publicly and on numerous private occasions as his wife.

Nina had missed him, but didn’t like thinking about that. Did she love him? She asked herself now and then. She had been in love twice, with Bob’s father years ago, a feeling now over and only dimly resonant, and with Jack McIntyre, whom she had married. But five years later she and Jack had decided to call it quits. Her recent divorce from Jack still hurt a lot. She wanted to live quietly with Bob and build her practice here, until all emotional pain floated away down the Truckee River.

On the other hand, she was a young healthy female who got lonely at times. She wanted something, just not that crazy fool emotion that sends the rest of life spi

The evenings spent in her four-poster bed or in Paul’s various hotel rooms always held the hint of adventure, an unpredictability, a romantic sheen. She imagined he could now see the advantages of their relationship, too. Even though he had his consulting work in Washington, D.C., he was still available to her and didn’t talk much about the future. He had quit pressing her on the point of marriage and settled into this trysting thing rather well, she thought.

In the small library-conference room next to her office, Paul was waiting, drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey, lovely lawyer-woman,” Paul said. He set his cup down and put his arms around her.

“Hi, Paul,” she said, allowing herself to disappear for just a moment into his chest and let his heat surround her. “How have things been in Washington?”

“Almost as cold as they have been up here,” he said, playing with her earring. “It’s been slow. Lots of delays because of the weather.”

“You know what? I’m really happy to see you!” she said.

“Ditto,” Paul said, smiling at her.

“I missed you.”

“Me, too.”

“You missed yourself?” she asked.

“Don’t be cute.”

She stepped back from him. “We need to get right down to it tonight.”

“Good idea!” he said. “Let’s entirely dispense with the preliminaries. Where will it be this time, the floor, this big wide chair, or hey, here’s this nice long, comfy table…” He patted it, pushing files over to one side. “A little scratchy. But you’ve got a tough little rear end…”

“Do me a favor.”

“Anything, as long as it involves those delectably painted toes of yours.”

“Can you please disperse that fog of lust you hang around in long enough to tell me what you’ve found out?”

“It’s more entertaining than you think in here.”

“Come on, now.”

He planted a final kiss on her nose and took a chair. Nina sat opposite.

“Oh, before we start, I forgot to ask.” Nina messed with the papers on the table in front of her and tried to keep her tone casual. “Have you made up your mind about the job yet? I mean, it sounds like a great opportunity.” She had spent more than a few long nights pondering the job he had been offered on the East Coast, finally deciding she should encourage him to do what was best for him. That was the right way to care for a good friend like Paul. “You’d probably be a fool to turn it down. You’re in the prime of life, at the height of your profession…”

“Wait a minute. Last time we talked, I’d be selling my soul to take that job.” He sounded more than a little a

“Well, you would be,” she said lightly. “I’m just trying to say the right thing here, Paul. I don’t want to be selfish and hold you back. On the other hand, I want you to make the decision that is right for you.”

“I see,” he said, looking at her with an expression she could not interpret. “Well, I’m playing it cool. I haven’t said one way or another.”

“You haven’t turned it down?”

“No.”

“I was just wondering,” Nina said.

“I’ll let you know when I decide,” he said.

“Oh, good.”

There was a short pause. Nina looked for something in her briefcase and Paul looked at her. “So how did the pseudo-trial go today?” he asked finally.

“Alarming. Provocative,” Nina said quickly, eager to move on in the conversation. “Not that our substitute Riesner looks or acts anything like Jeff Riesner at all. He’s an attorney friend of mine named Rufus who can talk the same talk, but has an entirely different effect on me. He sounds darned reasonable. I can’t speak for the pseudo-jury.”

Paul gri

“But who better to represent Mike Markov? In court, he’s pure, scorched-earth aggressiveness. He’s going to have the jury believing they have to strike down this evil, predatory female. ’She can’t let go.’ Something like that will be his pitch. Oh, if it was only someone besides him. Someone decent like Rufus. I win, I take him out to lunch. With Riesner, I win, I watch my back.”

“So who won the case today?”

“Well, you have to understand. First, this shadow trial is a pretty pale rendering of the real thing. It lacked several real elements. Drama. Passion. Tedium. Andrea was Lindy. She laughed a few times in the wrong places, and Winston had a handkerchief hanging out of his back pocket like a fluffy little tail for the longest time that nobody even noticed except the jury. I guarantee that won’t happen at trial.”

“Where was your notoriously clever jury consultant during this kinky event?”

“Quietly ru

“And?”

“In our first opening and closing arguments, we emphasized the promises made verbally, that unofficial wedding ceremony they went through years ago, the assumptions and expectations of the parties.”

“How’d your jury like that?”

“They didn’t. We lost. We ran through another version, where we stressed Lindy’s role at the company and kept up the attack on the agreement. That one seemed to ring the right bell. Our second approach proved more persuasive. We won, sort of. They awarded her twenty-five percent of the net worth of the stock.”

“Surprised?”

“Not really. I felt all along that Lindy’s work would make or break her case. That’s a visible thing. We can point to real evidence of her contributions, evidence of Mike’s reliance on her, evidence of her regular participation in big business decisions, evidence that directly links her efforts to the success of the corporation.”