“Let's look inside Steve Solomon.”
“There's nothing there,” he shot back.
“Be honest now.” She leveled a gaze at him, detected a hint of fear in his eyes. Now, that was something new, she thought. Maybe he can handle an assertive woman in court, but get inside his personal space, he breaks out in hives. “Be honest, Solomon. Do you have a thing for me?”
“What!”
“Do you drift off to sleep with little fantasies? The two of us in the stacks at the law library?”
“I've never been in the law library.”
“Are you writing my name on your legal pad, drawing hearts around it?”
“You're not my type, Lord.”
“Why not? All brains and no Rudnicks?”
“Exactly. Go marry the Avocado King.”
“Why shoot spitballs at me? What are the feelings you're not expressing?”
“At first I thought you were a royal pain. Rigid, arrogant, self-righteous. But with great legs. Thought I expressed all that pretty clearly.”
“And now?”
“Now that we have to work together, I tolerate you.”
“As long as that's all it is,” she said.
“That's all.”
“Good, then it's mutual,” Victoria said.
Ten minutes later, Steve parked the car in an open lot, and they walked along Ocean Drive past the usual collection of sunburned tourists and skateboarding teens. It was a sunny day, with a steady breeze off the Atlantic. As they headed to his office, Steve tried to figure out what had just happened. Why had he taken those cheap shots? Why couldn't he just say what he felt?
Because you don't tell another man's fiancee that the air sizzles when she walks into the room and fizzles when she leaves.
Now, there was the painful truth. Even though he knew he was lousy at introspection, he dug deeper. Ever since learning Victoria was engaged, he'd been trying to convince himself that he wasn't attracted to her. Now he was going out of his way to piss her off. He felt like the awkward sixth grader, who, unable to talk to the prettiest girl in class, yanks her pigtails instead. And she'd just busted him on it.
“Be honest, Solomon. Do you have a thing for me?”
Nolo contendere. He would cop a plea, but only to himself. To Victoria, he would keep up the front, pretending he could barely tolerate her. He would never mention his feelings, and he surely wouldn't act on them. First, because it would be damaging to their working together. And second, because in an uncertain world, he was quite certain of one thing: Whatever he felt for Victoria Lord, she did not feel for him.
5. I will never compromise my ideals to achieve someone else's definition of success.
Fourteen
SUCCESS VERSUS EXCELLENCE
“Me first,” Bobby shouted, running ahead and ducking into a pink, two-story stucco building. It had been built in the 1930's but had none of the charm of Art Deco. No graceful curves or ornamental friezes. No oak floors or cathedral ceilings. The walls were made of plaster mixed with beach sand, and the caustic effect of the salt corroded the plumbing and wiring. As a result, the building was subject to power outages and overflowing toilets. A sign on the exterior read, “Les Mannequins.”
Three young women, impossibly tall, impossibly thin, high-stepped out the front door. All three wore short shorts, cropped tees, and open-toed sandals with four-inch heels. “Hi, Steve,” they cooed.
“Let me guess,” Victoria said. “Your law clerks?”
“It's a modeling agency,” Steve admitted.
“Really? And I thought it was the Supreme Court.”
“All right, listen up, Lord. Getting to my office is like walking over hot coals. So whatever happens, just keep moving.”
“Why?”
“You'll see.” Steve took Victoria by the arm and hurried her through the door. In the lobby, two more young women-six-foot-tall twins with long, flaxen hair-stood at a counter studying contact sheets of headshots.
“Hey, Steve,” they said in unison. “When are you-”
“Lexy. Rexy,” Steve said, still on the move. “Not now.”
“But you promised,” Lexy said. Or maybe it was Rexy.
“You owe us,” the other one said. “Remember?”
“I'm busy.” He tried to hustle past them, but the two women, slender as straws, spun gracefully, despite their high-heeled slingbacks, and blocked his path. In spandex tube minidresses, one Day-Glo red, the other Day-Glo green, with long legs spread, the pair looked like twin Eiffel Towers decorated for Christmas.
“Do you know what parking's like on Ocean Drive?” Lexy asked.
“I know, I know,” Steve said.
“So where are our handicap stickers?” Lexy asked.
“We had to walk three blocks today,” Rexy said.
“In our Jimmy Choos,” Lexy said.
“You're not handicapped.” Steve pushed past the two women.
“Anorexia doesn't count?” Victoria said.
“Come on. My office-our office-is on the second floor.” Steve tried to hurry her along. Bobby was already at the stairs.
“The penthouse,” Victoria said. “I remember.”
“Don't bust my chops, okay? I get free rent in exchange for handling the agency's legal problems. Gotta do some work for the models, too. The trick is to get upstairs before they-”
“Steve, wait up!” A suntanned young woman in Lycra bicycle shorts and a sport bra approached.
“Later, Gina,” Steve said. “I've got law business.”
“So do I.” Pouty-lipped and big-busted-Rudnicks, Victoria guessed-Gina had a China chop of coppery hair as bright as a new penny. She stuck out her left hand and showed off a diamond the size of an eyeball. “Paco asked me to marry him.”
“Looks like you accepted,” Steve said.
“For one night. Then I changed my mind. He's just another Euro-rich model-humper. Now the creep wants the ring back.”
“Imagine the nerve.”
“I don't have to give it back, do I?”
“How should I know?” Steve said.
Victoria interceded. “The general rule is that an engagement ring is a gift. So, even if there's no wedding, the woman keeps the ring.”
“Look who got the book award in Contracts One,” Steve said with mock admiration. “Gina, this is Victoria, my new law partner.”
“Great,” Gina said. “Will you be my lawyer if the prick sues me?”
“I should caution you, Gina,” Victoria said in her lawyerly voice, “if you intended to break up ab initio, your fiance could claim fraud and get the ring back.”
“Ab what?” Gina asked.
Bobby said: “Ab initio. From the beginning. Like, did you always plan to rip off the guy like you did the fertilizer salesman who paid for your boobs?”
