nothing wrong with greed,” Park said. “In moderation, of course. Now, go get a date for this weekend. And remember Welch is an author. She has to have read something besides the society pages.”
“Really? Then who the hell are you going to bring?” Nick asked.
“Oh. Good point.” Park frowned. “Can you get me a date?”
Two
“Let me get this straight,” Tess said from her armchair when Nick had finished explaining and the only evidence left of the pot stickers was an empty carton and a tangy memory. “You want me to pretend to be your fiancée in order to deceive one of our greatest living American authors so that you can take another step in your drive toward ultimate yuppiehood.” She thought about it for a minute. “This could be good. I could wear an apron.”
Nick looked confused. “No, you couldn’t. This is a very ritzy party. Why would you wear an apron?”
Tess shrugged. “All right, no apron. But it’s your loss.”
Nick shifted slightly. “Tess, concentrate here. I need to look like somebody who is approaching commitment. You need to act like somebody I’d commit to. Can you pull this off?” He squinted at her. “Of course you can’t. Why don’t I ever listen to Park?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Tess said. “Did he tell you I couldn’t do this? The rat. I know you bonded in college, but haven’t you noticed what a valueless twit he is?”
“Valueless is a little harsh,” Nick said. “Immature, maybe.”
“What did he do? Pull you from a burning building?” Tess shook her head. “Lassie wasn’t this faithful to Timmy.”
“He does all right by me,” Nick said. “And he pulls his own weight with the firm. Park may have his limits, but believe it or not, he’s a genius with contracts. And yes, I owe him. The only reason I’m even with the firm is that Park hauled me in with him.”
“I understand that,” Tess said patiently. “And I admire your loyalty. But since then you’ve pulled him out of a jam how many times? Don’t you think you’re about paid up here? Especially since he’s trashing your fiancée.” When Nick seemed puzzled, she added, “That would be me, remember?”
“Right,” Nick said. “At least, I remember when I thought that was a good idea. Look, I haven’t pulled Park out of a jam that many times. And we’re doing all right together. Hell, we could be rich if we nail this Welch account.”
“You’re already rich,” Tess said. “It’s time to move to a higher plane. Get a new interest. One with values.”
“I have values.” Nick cast a disgusted look around the apartment. “Besides, if this is the kind of life you get for having values, I’ll pass. This place is a dump. And where the hell did you get those sweats, anyway? They’re older than you are.”
“Hey,” Tess said, annoyed at having to defend her sweats yet one more time. “I paid for these with honest money at an honest thrift store.” She stuck her chin in the air. “Just because, unlike you and Park, I don’t buy overpriced running togs that I never run in because I might get sweaty—”
“Wait a minute,” Nick said. “I run.”
But Tess was already warming to the drama of the moment. “—which would be a waste of the ill-gotten gains I used to buy them—”
“I object to the ill-gotten gains—”
“Always a lawyer,” Tess said. “Objection overruled.”
“Look, we don’t cheat widows and orphans or defend rapists or polluters or do any of those other things you tree huggers are always on about,” Nick fumed. “We’re lawyers, not criminals, for cripe’s sake. Cut me a break.”
Tess came down from her high horse. “Sorry. I got a little carried away.” She looked at him, biting her lip. “This is like déjà vu. This is every argument we ever had.”
“I know,” Nick said gloomily. “It was the only good thing about not seeing you anymore. I didn’t have to have this stupid argument.”
“Well, you don’t have to have it now,” Tess said. “The door is over there. And this engagement would never have worked for us, anyway. You wouldn’t have let me wear an apron, and as the years went by, I would have resented it. Then one day, I’d have picked up a meat cleaver and there we’d be, in the National Enquirer, just like John and Lorena Bobbit.” Nick blinked at her, and she took pity on him and dropped her story. “Well, thanks for stopping by. See you.” She waited for him to get up and leave, feeling absolutely miserable for the first time since the last time she’d left him.
Nick put his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “I can’t leave. I need you.” He opened his eyes and met hers squarely. “This could get me a partnership, Tess.”
Tess felt a stab of sympathy for him. “Oh, love. When are you going to stop trying to prove you’re the best? You don’t have to sweat like this anymore. Your picture is on the society page all the time. You’re a Riverbend celebrity. People adore you. You’ve made it.”
Nick shook his head. “Not till I’ve made partner. I know that in your eyes that makes me an immoral, profiteering, capitalist whoremonger, but I will not be happy until I’ve made partner. I’ve worked a long time for this, and I want it.”
“I know.” Tess frowned. “What I don’t know is why Park isn’t giving it to you.”
Nick let his head fall back against the wall again. “Because Park can’t. His father still runs the firm, and Park would walk naked in traffic before he’d confront him or, God forbid, disagree with him. But Park swears his father will retire if we get the Welch account, and then Park can make me partner.”
Tess was confused. “Why doesn’t his father want to make you partner? You’re brilliant. And you practically run that firm now. This doesn’t make sense. You deserve partner.”
“His father cares about background,” Nick said stiffly. “Mine is blue-collar. Not the kind of person to be a partner in a Patterson law firm.”
Tess looked dumbfounded. “You’re kidding. He can’t be that archaic.”
“Sure he can,” Nick said. “It’s his law firm. He can be anything he wants.”
Tess slumped back in her chair and considered Nick and what she owed him. The first time they’d met, he’d knocked her on her butt playing touch football, and then sat on her to make her give up the ball, doing terrible Bogart impressions until she’d surrendered because she was weak from laughing. When she broke up with the guy she’d been dating a month later, she’d called Nick trying not to cry, and he’d brought her chocolate ice cream and Terms of Endearment on video, and then kept her company while she sobbed through the movie. And he’d never said anything about the mascara she’d left all over his shirt. And today he’d known she was upset about something and brought her pot stickers.
On the other hand, he worshiped money and success, and he’d humiliated her by rejecting her in a parking lot.
They were almost even. But
