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“Two. De Luca,” I said, and she scribbled it down on a pad.
“You guys sitting in, or out?”
I didn’t see any outdoor seating, but the night was unseasonably cool, so I let that be the determinant.
“Out.”
“Your car?”
My face must have shown my confusion because she smiled and elaborated. “What kind of car do you have?”
“Oh. White 7-Series.” She wrote something else down, and moved to the next person in line. I squeezed my way back through the entrance and into the night air. I saw Brad walking up from a side lot obscured by trees, and met him halfway.
“The place is packed. I said we’d sit outside, but I don’t know how long the wait is.”
He nodded, flashing a quick grin at me. “Good. If we are sitting outside, then there isn’t a wait, they’ll serve us out on the car.” He gave my waist a quick squeeze and nodded to the parking lot. “Why don’t you sit on the hood and I’ll grab us drinks? What do you want?”
“White wine—something fruity. Riesling, if they have it.”
He nodded and headed in. I wandered to the parking lot. It was a makeshift lot—with cars parked in all sorts of directions, but most facing the overlook. I saw Brad’s, the “B D Best” vanity tag clearly identifying it. It was parked close to the edge, and I climbed on top of the hood, which was still warm from the drive. The view from the hood was cut from every sappy movie I’d ever seen—a rainbow of city lights at night—and sitting on the hood I felt like a nervous teenager about to make out. It was almost pitch-black out here, half of the neighboring cars silent and empty, half with couples perched on the hood, or tucked inside their expensive frames. I yawned and lay back, the hood uncomfortably hard but the night sky clear and beautiful. Crickets chirped, and I waited expectantly for the first mosquito to find my juicy self.
Brad appeared from the left side, a red Solo cup in his hand. I sat up, my abs protesting, and grabbed the cup, peering inside. White wine. I looked at him quizzically.
“What—you only drink from fine glassware?” The darkness hid his face, but I heard his smile.
I took a sip. It was chilled, fruity and sweet. Perfect. “No. Just not typical De Luca.”
He clinked his bottled beer to my plastic cup and sat on the hood next to me, the car noticeably sagging. We sat in comfortable silence for a minute, looking out on the view.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Lisa Strong emailed everyone, telling us not to come in today, but to be there tomorrow.”
“Lisa is Clarke’s secretary?”
“Yes.” I took a sip of my wine, smiling. “I can’t believe you don’t know that.”
He smirked. “I barely keep my own staff straight.” He sobered, thinking of something, then turned to me.
“I met with Clarke today.”
I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“We were never interested in a fourth partner. We always wanted to keep it to three. With Broward...gone...we needed to figure out what was next. If we would stay just the two of us or not. I—”
“Broward’s not even in the ground yet!” My voice came out louder and harder than I intended, and he closed his eyes and sighed.
“Julia, I—” He stopped, interrupted again, this time by a thin redheaded waitress in a white button-up, black tie and black pants.
“Excuse me. I am Amber, your waitress. I have your drink orders from the bar. Is there anything else you’d like to drink?” She set a citronella candle on the hood and lit it, depositing two cloth rolls of silverware next to it.
“I’ll have bottled water, with dinner,” Brad stated, and looked at me.
“I’m fine for now, thank you.”
“Would you like to hear the menu?” she asked. I nodded in response, and Brad gave a curt nod.
“It’s pretty basic. We have spaghetti, chicken parmesan and lasagna.” I waited for more, but from her pregnant pause, that was apparently it. I ordered the spaghetti, and Brad asked for both chicken parm and lasagna. The waitress left, and I looked at Brad, the candle now illuminating his handsome face.
“So they’ll serve us out here? On the hood?” The idea seemed preposterous but fun, if not a little messy.
He nodded. “The inside restaurant is pretty small. It fills up quickly. When they first opened, and word started spreading about their food, the line would snake through the parking lot. They started taking drink orders from the waiting crowd...then things just progressed to where they’re at now. I should have asked if you like Italian. Their menu is so limited...”
I waved my hand, erasing his concern, and took a sip of wine.
“So. Broward?” I prompted him.
“Right. I understand that it seems cold to you, us discussing this so quickly after his death, but it is a business situation. We can mourn his passing after work, but this is a decision we needed to make quickly. There are clients and cases to contend with, not to mention the necessity to sell his shares so that we can settle with his estate. Claire will need and appreciate the money.”
My eyes clouded a bit at the mention of Broward’s wife, and I wondered, briefly, if Brad had been in contact with her.
“So, what did you decide? You and Clarke?”
“We decided not to absorb Broward’s interest, but to allow an outside attorney to purchase his shares. We don’t have the time or expertise to take on Broward’s clients, and don’t have any junior partners ready to fill his shoes. Today we chose a replacement and extended an offer, which was accepted. Tomorrow we’ll make a formal announcement and will introduce him to the team.”
I turned it over in my mind, thinking. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Whoever takes his place will be your new boss. There is a chance that he or she won’t want to train a new employee—in that case H.R. will either reassign you or terminate your new position.”
Terminate my new position. The phrase just screamed law school rejection. I sipped my wine slowly. “So. If I was to be reassigned, it would probably need to be to an attorney with a large caseload, someone who would need an additional hand.” I looked up at him suggestively, a wry smile crossing his face as he leaned over and looped his arm around my waist, bringing me to him, his lips pressing gently on my head.
“Well, I would love to have you under me.” His words, a growl against my hair, made me smile. “But, as much as I would enjoy that, we both know I am the last attorney Human Resources would assign you to.”
