“It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. We met, right? Hooked up, everything went fine. But then she found out I’m a lawyer. And she goes, ‘Oh I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I want a normal person.’” He looks insulted. “Like lawyers aren’t normal.”
“At least she said sorry.”
“An empty apology. I won’t accept it. She has some weird bias against attorneys. She’s an…an attornist!”
“I’m not sure that’s really a word.”
“It sure as hell should be, to shame those who hate us.”
“She probably just had a bad experience somewhere along the line.”
He nods morosely. “She apparently got fucked over by some ex-boyfriend who’s also a lawyer.”
“Right? There you go.”
“Yeah, well, I got fucked over by an ex who’s a woman. You don’t see me swearing off women.”
I decide not to point out that he can’t swear off women because he doesn’t play for the other team. Probably wouldn’t make him feel better. “She’s going to be sorry she said that to you, especially when she needs a great lawyer in her corner.”
“Exactly.”
“You should just hook up with some other woman. Who isn’t one of those, uh, attornists.”
Aiden nods. “Thinking about it.”
“You do that. Cheer yourself up.”
“Right.”
Okay then. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’ve got an appointment with a client who needs a lot of handholding over some intellectual property issues.”
“Isn’t that always the way?”
We pay for our drinks and start to get up. As he takes his card back from the bartender, he looks over my shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that your assistant?”
I turn around. “Where?”
“Over there.” Aiden gestures with his chin. Sure enough, Yuna is at a table in the southwest corner. An older woman with the s
ame eyes and mouth is with her.
I really want to go over and say hi. But I don’t want to interrupt her time with her mother. I can always talk with her tomorrow or Monday.
I start to turn back to Aiden, then freeze when her mom starts flipping portrait photos. They’re large publicity shots. Impossible to miss.
Did she bring the hundred-candidate list?
Annoyance knots my gut. Actually, annoyance doesn’t really capture my feeling. It’s not exactly rage. That’s too one-dimensional, although it’s a lot like rage. But there’s also resentment. And jealousy.
Why isn’t Yuna throwing the photos back in her mom’s face and flipping the table over? Figuratively, of course. The table’s really heavy.
“I need to go over there,” I say. Screw letting her have time with her mom. I’m putting an end to this ridiculous matchmaking scheme.
“Your assistant can have some personal time off.” Aiden’s tone is chiding, which is ridiculous, because he works his paralegals like dogs.
“Not when her mom’s trying to force her to marry some asshole.” I spit out the words like broken glass.