Jack With a Twist

and how much fun you used to have when you worked together, but now it’s even worse. He mopes around the office like a sad puppy and all he really wants is to talk to you. To talk things out.”

“Is everything here okay?” Vanessa says, rushing out of the ballroom and over to me. “I’ve been e-mailing you for the last hour to make sure you got home okay, and I didn’t hear back. I was just about to hop on the Long Island Rail Road to start the search party with Mimi.” And then to Miranda: “You can go. I’ve got it from here.”

“Okay,” Miranda says, “but, Brooke, please hear what Jack has to say.”

Vanessa grabs me and hugs me tight.

“Do you want me to take you home?” she asks me.

“You know what?” I say, “maybe Miranda’s right.”

“Not possible,” Vanessa says.

“True,” I answer, smiling. “But still, let’s hear what Jack has to say.”

“Fine, but I’m coming to sit at your table,” Vanessa says, grabbing my hand, and we walk back to the ballroom together.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp, “is Noah your mystery man?”

“He’s married,” Vanessa says. “What do you think, I’m pulling a Miranda?”

“Is that our new term for cheating?” I ask.

“It’s our new term for making a move on a married man,” she says. “Yes. Think of it as the new Miranda warning—you do not have the right to hit on a married man. Anything you do with said married man can and will be used against you by every other woman you know.”

“You know what? I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“I feel worse for the wives of the men she’s messed around with,” Vanessa says. Said like a wife who’s been betrayed. I feel a tug of sadness for Vanessa and all she’s been through.

“Oh, honey. Me, too. I feel terrible for the wives. What she did, what she does, is awful. I mean, I’m not saying that what she did was in any way excusable, I’m just saying that I feel sorry for her. It’s like she just can’t help but fall in love with the wrong guy.”

“Are you trying to say that you fell for the wrong guy, too?” Vanessa asks, as we approach the ballroom.

“You know what? I don’t think so, but I guess we’re going to find out right now.”

The double doors to the ballroom open with a swoosh and the people at the few tables nearest to the doors turn around to look at us as we quietly make our way to the SGR table. I sit back down in my seat and Vanessa takes Rosalyn’s seat. Noah looks at me from across the table and smiles. He mouths the words I’m glad you came back.

I mouth back the words, “Me, too.”

Judge Solomon’s law clerk announces that Jack is going to be giving the closing statements, and the crowd applauds as Jack takes the mike once again.

“Thank you all for coming today to honor the Honorable Edward Solomon. My father. The man we all love and respect, and by being here today, you’ve truly honored him. Thank you for that.” The crowd all stands to applaud. Then, as everyone begins to take their seats again, Jack turns to his father: “Dad, you’ve made me the lawyer I am today. The man I am today. You’ve taught me how to fight to the death in a courtroom, and I’ve litigated against the toughest adversaries in the jurisdiction without flinching because of it. But the one person I could never go against is you. I always thought that having respect for you meant never standing up to you, but I was wrong. Now, I think that having respect for you would actually be to show you that I’ve become the man you’ve always taught me to be. To be strong, to take responsibility for things. To stand up for what I believe in.” Jack says, to a round of roaring applause. The judges on the dais all begin shaking Judge Solomon’s hand and patting him on the back. The Judge’s law clerk begins to get up from his seat, thinking that Jack is done speaking, but Jack doesn’t move a muscle. He stays firmly planted at the mic. He runs his hand through his shaggy brown hair and takes a deep breath.

“Dad, I love and respect you, but I don’t want lobster at my wedding if Brooke doesn’t want it. And, Dad, if you want lobster, then that’s fine, but then you won’t be at my wedding, and I’ll have to respect that, just as you’ll have to respect my decision here today. Because I love Brooke Miller and I’m going to do anything in the world to get her back. I let my fear get in the way of the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m correcting that mistake here and now. Being afraid cost me the most important thing in my life and I’m going to get it back. I’m going to get it back right now.”

And with that, Jack jumps off of the dais and begins walking straight toward my table. Everyone stops and stares as he makes his way through the massive ballroom, straight through to my table.

I get up from my seat and walk toward him.

Finally! My real, live Breakfast at Tiffany’s moment! You know, without the whole $50-for-the-powder-room and kept-man thing, though.

What? Wouldn’t you want your Breakfast at Tiffany’s moment to be cleaned up a bit, too?

“I want to settle,” I say as we meet in the middle of the ballroom, both gasping for air.

“Being with me is settling?” Jack says. He runs his fingers through his shaggy brown hair and I can tell that he’s not sure whether he should put his arms around me. “I thought that my speech wasn’t half bad.”

“No,” I say, “Not settle on you. Settle with you. Our case. I want to settle our case. And then I want to marry you.”

“Whatever you say, counselor,” Jack says as he leans in to kiss me. And we kiss and we kiss and we kiss. And we don’t care that Jack’s dad is there, watching us with his mouth down on the floor. And we don’t care that we’re standing in a room full of judges and lawyers. We kiss and it’s like the rest of the world has ceased to exist.

I’m vaguely aware that as we stand there kissing, some people in the crowd begin to clap. Soon, it becomes a roaring applause and I detach myself from Jack’s face long enough to look out and see everyone standing up and applauding for us.

I turn around to see Jack’s father standing and applauding for us, too. He then grabs the mike and says: “Jack, I’m very proud of you. I’m proud of the man you have become. So, if you and Brooke don’t want lobster at your wedding, then I don’t want it, either. And Brooke, if I’ve done anything to offend you and your family over the last few months—well, it sounds like I’ve done a lot to offend you and your family over the last few months—I truly am sorry. I hope that you all will see fit to forgive me.

“I really am happy that Jack’s found a woman like you, and my family would be lucky to have you as a daughter-in-law. Beauty and brains, that’s our Brooke!”

“Of course we forgive you, Judge Solomon,” I call out, hoping that it’s loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you try calling me Dad?” Judge Solomon says, and the crowd begins to applaud again.

I am so not calling that man Dad anytime soon.

“Now, I think that I’ve got a conflict of interest here,” Jack’s father says. “So, who’s going to marry these two for me?”

A voice booms from the back of the ballroom. Large and commanding, it’s a voice that doesn’t need the assistance of a microphone. I turn around and see a familiar face: Judge Martin, walking toward us, yelling, “I will!”

Column Five

You didn’t hear it from us…

WHAT former model turned fashion designer was seen canoodling with an unidentified brunette at a midtown hotel for an afternoon rendezvous? Onlookers say they stopped in for a drink and tearfully declared their love for each other before embracing out in the open, just before sneaking off to a room.

Could this be why her husband moved out of their Upper East Side brownstone a few months ago?