Her tone was far more pleasant than I expected it to be. “Nice to meet you, too, Miss… O’Hara, was it?”
“Yes,” I said with a forced smile. “Please call me Katie.”
“Like Katie Scarlett O’Hara,” Reed said, referring to heroine in the old movie Gone with The Wind. It had been my mom’s favorite. I had indeed been named after the character played by Vivien Leigh, only my full name was Katharine Ann rather than Katie Scarlett, thank you Jesus.
Reed held up a finger to signal a waiter, then gestured around the table. “Please, everyone, sit.”
Conner held the chair for Cassandra. He put his hand on her shoulder and she gazed up with a look that clearly said that they were more than friends and business associates. I made a mental note to Google them both as soon as I was back to my place. I was certain their names would come up together many times.
Conner sat directly across from me at the round table. I knew he recognized me by the little gleam in his eye, as if our one-night stand on New Year’s Eve was still fresh in his mind. I mean, it was just a couple of months ago, and w
e weren’t that drunk. At least I wasn’t.
I remembered the night vividly.
I had pleasured myself to the memory many nights since.
I also remembered waking up alone wondering where the hell he went.
I had to admit, I was a little pissed when I woke up the next morning and he wasn’t there.
Then Monique reminded me that was the point of a one-night stand.
To quote my wonderful bestie, “You meet, you fuck, you slither way.”
What had he called himself?
Brad?
Brad the banker…
And I had called myself…
Mollie…
Mollie the paralegal.
Shit…
“So, Miss O’Hara,” Conner said as he spread his napkin in his lap and took a quick sip of water. I watched him lick his lips. “Reed tells me that you’re with Yates Hamilton & Booz. You are their preeminent contract law specialist, I believe. That must keep you busy. Very little time to socialize and what not.”
“I’m just one of many,” I said. The waiter had refilled my wine glass. I took a slow sip and glanced at him from behind the glass, wondering if he was going to spill the beans about our night right here at the dinner table or keep our secret.
“Don’t be modest,” Uncle Allen said. “Yates Hamilton & Booz has about a hundred lawyers in their contracts department. Katie is their best.”
“Well, you might be a little biased, Allen,” Conner said with a smirk. “But I seriously doubt it.”
I watched the skin around Uncle Allen’s eyes tighten. He was half Irish and half Italian. He didn’t tolerate fools very well. “Meaning?”
Conner took a second to order a scotch rocks for himself and a Manhattan for Cassandra when the waiter came by. He held out his hands and smiled at me.
“Meaning that you’re not the kind of man who would call on someone just because they’re related to you,” he said respectfully to Allen. “If Miss O’Hara is here on your behalf, I suspect it’s because she is the best contracts attorney in the city, not because you’re her uncle.”
Uncle Allen narrowed his eyes at Conner McGee for a moment, sizing him up. I was waiting for all hell to break loose, until Conner smiled, and Uncle Allen smiled back.
“You’re right on that point,” Uncle Allen said. “She’s here because she is the best at what she does, not because she’s my niece.”
“I believe you might know my father, Mr. Benson,” Cassandra said, interrupting with a smile that made Uncle Allen’s eyebrows go up. Her voice was smoky, seductive, like Lauren Bacall’s in her youth. “Augustus Leone?”