One to Chase (One to Hold 7)

Shit like this has been going on since the first courtesan traded the first kingly blowjob for an estate in Venice all the way back to the fourteen hundreds. Hell, it’s been going on longer than that. Ever heard of Bathsheba?

“That took long enough.” Evan Cole, my associate and right hand, leans back in his chair, a knowing smile on his face. “Did I see Paige Goldfarb ahead of you looking like the cat who ate the canary?”

“More like who deep-throated it.” I mutter, leaning forward to take the last hit off my vodka.

He exhales a laugh. “Shit, Marcus, I hope you tapped that. Her body is fucking killer.”

“It is,” I cut him off. “Intercourse, however, was not a part of that transaction. Are you finished? We’ve got our phone conference at two.”

He tosses his cloth napkin beside his plate. “Done and paid for.”

“Good work.” I stand and only cast one final dominant smirk towards Troy before we’re headed to the door. You’ll always swim in my wake, Cocksucker.

Our offices are on the East Loop, an easy walk from the restaurant. Out on the street, we head south to cross the river. My associate has his phone in hand, and an article on the Wall Street Journal website crosses my mind.

“Enjoy these business lunches while they last,” I casually observe. “Apparently they’re going the way of the dinosaur. Your generation doesn’t have time for power deals over martinis.”

He glances up. “I don’t remember voting on that at our annual meeting.”

I laugh. “Damn Millennials. Established cafés all over New York are shutting down as a result.”

“New York is not Chicago.” His phone is back in his pocket, and I remember why Evan and I instantly clicked. He’s an old soul. “And our firm doesn’t follow the rules. We rewrite them.”

“We are pretty independent.” Our building near the corner of Wacker and Michigan comes into view, and I shift us back to planning mode. “Any final thoughts on McGruder?”

In our pending conference, I plan to shut down an over-eager prosecutor set on destroying my second top client for insider trading. Evan’s a smart young lawyer, even if his arguments are obvious. He’s learning fast, and he gets points for finding the arguments himself.

“The accusation alone will do more damage—” My phone buzzes, and I hold up a finger as I take it from my breast pocket.

“Hold that thought.” Only one group of individuals is allowed to interrupt me mid-meeting. My little sister never calls, but I just saw her at the wedding. “Elaine? Everything okay?”

“Marcus!” Her voice is loud and cheerful. I relax. “Hope you’re not busy?”

“Actually, I’m right in the middle of—”

“I won’t keep you but a second. I need a favor.”

Evan’s face is confused, but family comes first. “Make it quick.”

“Patrick’s little sister just moved back to Chicago, and she’s looking for a job.”

“Is she an attorney?”

“She’s in public relations, marketing...”

“We don’t need a public relations person.”

“I didn’t mean for you to hire her.” We’re getting closer to the office, and I glance at my watch. One-fifty. “You know everyone in Chicago. I figured you could introduce her around, help her transition, meet the top brass.”

“Lainey, I really don’t have time right now. If you’ll call Janice and get her on my calendar, I’ll see if I can fit her in.”

“That’s all I needed to hear! Thanks, Marc!” She’s so upbeat, I can’t help a sm

ile.

“How’s Lane?” Her little son has become her favorite topic of discussion in the last two years.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe. He’s passed through the truck phase, and now he actually wants to paint! It’s amazing!”