I push all thoughts of Kenzie from my head and stand from my desk, taking a moment to adjust myself now that I have a half-chub from thinking of her. Bloody hell.
Once I’m situated, I head out of my office and down the hall toward Mr. Simons’s office. I can’t let Darla’s ineptitude slide any longer. But I’m going to have to approach this subject delicately because pussy-whipped is too soft a term for what Mr. Simons is for his new, younger woman.
I approach his office, which is situated at the corner of the high-rise and looks out over Manhattan. The adjoining office is where the other partner, Mr. Berns, now works. If he retires next year, it will probably be mine or Tom Harding’s.
When the time comes, I’m pretty sure Mr. Berns will give me his vote and I suspect Tom Harding will be getting Scofield’s. Which makes Mr. Simons the tiebreaker.
Mr. Simons’s assistant isn’t at her desk, but his office door is half-ajar, so I knock. My stomach feels a bit sour at the idea of having this conversation, but I’ve done harder things and dealt with the aftermath of my decisions before, so I push aside the fear that he’ll take offense.
The door opens slightly when I knock to reveal that Mr. Simons is sitting behind his desk and, lucky me, his fiancée is adhered to his lap.
Of course she is. Could anything in my life come easy?
He drags his attention away from the woman who I’d consider too young for me, and I’m thirty-four while Mr. Simons has a couple decades over me. He removes his hand from her hip and waves me in. “Andrew, come on in.”
“I can come back if you’re busy.” I nod at Bethaney. “Hi, Bethaney.”
“Andrew.”
A few months ago, after Mr. Simons proposed, he brought Bethaney around and introduced her to everyone. He said it was because we’d be seeing her around the law firm from time to time and wanted us all to be comfortable, but I suspect he was showing off his new prize, as though his new piece of arm candy negated the fact he’d divorced the mother of his children for her.
It wasn’t like he ever said that, but timing being what it was made it obvious.
“Nonsense, come on in. I was just trying to make Bethaney feel better.”
Bethaney’s pout looks perfectly practiced.
I take a few more steps into the office. “Everything okay?” I ask, feigning interest. What could this girl be upset about?
“The planner for our Christmas party quit. She said I was too demanding or something.” Her face twists into an expression to suggest the woman is crazy. “Now I have no one and the party is less than two months away. It’s going to be a disaster!” Her shoulders drop.
Mr. Simons wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. They’re one of those couples where, due to their age difference, you can’t help but think of them in bed and it’s not the best image to imagine.
“It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.” Mr. Simons kisses her temple.
“Ricky… you don’t get it.” She throws her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him.
Ricky? I barely stifle an eye roll.
“Everyone who’s any good won’t be able to take the job with this short of notice. This was supposed to be my coming-out party to your office. I wanted to throw the best party the company has ever had. I want everyone to like me.”
I’m surprised at the note of vulnerability in her voice. But truth be told, Mr. Simons’s first wife was an exceptional party planner. She had connections though, ones I’m sure Bethaney doesn’t. His first wife was big on charities, so the party favors were usually for a specific cause. During Labor Day, she gave everyone a specific animal that she’d adopted for them from the rain forest. And you get monthly updates on said animal. I believe her long-term goal was for us to continue to give money to the charity and it worked for me. A specific amount of money is taken out every month to care for my orangutan, Bongo.
“Everyone does like you. Right, Andrew?” He looks at me with an expression that clearly says I’d better agree.
“Of course. Everyone here thinks highly of you, Bethaney.”
Her pout makes a reappearance. “You guys are just saying that. I want to prove that I belong. Plus, Christmas is my all-time favorite holiday. I can’t screw this up.”
Christ, what’s with the Christmas cheerleaders I find myself surrounded by lately? What is it about the holiday that these people love? Then a thought occurs to me, but I don’t want to mention Kenzie’s name to Bethaney because that’s inviting Kenzie into my world.
“You know what, sweetie, Tom Harding probably knows someone. He always seems to have a guy or a woman who can help out.”
Tom Harding? I’ve never wanted to throat punch a guy more.
“Really?” Bethaney stands. “Maybe I should go ask him?”
“You do that, sweetie.” He pats her on the ass. “Hell of a case he won for the firm yesterday, right, Andrew?”
If I could forcefully throw up, I would right now.
“I know someone!” I actually raise my hand as the words rush out of me so fast, I’m surprised Bethaney understood me and stops. I’m not an impulsive person. I always think before I speak. It’s the nature of being a lawyer.
“You do? Who is it?” Bethaney turns to Mr. Simons.
“My friend’s sister is an event planner.”
“What’s her name?”
“MacKenzie Montgomery.” I don’t actually know if she goes by her full name in business or if she has a business name. We never got that far last night.
Bethaney tilts her head and purses her lips. “I’ve never heard of her.” She steps closer to the door and panic arises inside me.
“She’s very up and coming.” Bethaney’s expression doesn’t change, so I add, “And she loves Christmas. Just last night, she was dressed like an elf when we had dinner. Christmas cheer is the best, am I right?” I don’t know why I added that last part.
“You love Christmas?” Her expression says she pegged me for a Scrooge.
“What’s not to love? Favorite holiday.” I plaster what I hope is a convincing smile and point to myself. Even Mr. Simons quirks an eyebrow my way.
Bethaney’s eyes widen and she shifts to stand by me. “An elf? Love that.” She heads back over to Mr. Simons and grabs his lapels. “Oh, Ricky, this could be it. If she’s up and coming, I could be known for discovering the next ‘it’ event planner in the city. Wouldn’t that be amazing?” Her smile is at full wattage.
“You’re amazing,” Mr. Simons says, looking at her lovingly. Jesus, this guy is a goner.
Bethaney turns back to me. “Can you give me her number?”
“Sure, but why don’t you let me call her first and sweet-talk her into making time in her schedule?”
“Perfect.” She claps like a baby seal then rushes over to embrace me.
I let my hands hang stiff at my sides and glance at Mr. Simons, but he doesn’t look concerned that his fiancée is pressed against me. In fact, he’s grinning almost as much as she is. Maybe the way to win his vote for partner isn’t through hard work and billable hours. Maybe it’s through making the woman he loves happy.