A Very Good Life by Lynn Steward

Lounge at the Westbury Hotel on Madison Avenue and 69th Street.
    “I’ll have a glass of house cabernet,” Janice told their waiter.
    “Just coffee for me,” Brett said, his arms folded defensively.
    “I’d rather have a Georges de la Tour cab, private reserve,” Janice declared, “but what’s the point if we’re not sharing a bottle.”
    Brett’s jaw dropped.
    “Don’t act so surprised, Mr. Landmark. I know more than people give me credit for. It’s just that I don’t place a lot of stock in facades and traditions. Consider the wine journals, for example. They’re part of yet another tradition, one that I’m sure will be carried on until you retire from the firm. It’s just more preservation. Preserve your precious wine labels and then preserve your routines until you turn into stone. Is this really how you want to live your life? I mean, it’s all well and good for some people, I suppose, but as a lifestyle, it would leave me cold, as in dead. If that makes me a bad girl from the West Coast with no breeding or social amenities, then so be it.”
    “I get what you’re saying about turning into a landmark,” Brett said, looking across the table at his colleague’s deep blue eyes. “But even partners at law firms have skeletons in their closets. Nobody’s a Boy Scout. Why did you imply back at Saks that my life is going to radically change?”
    “Because Patti Hartlen is a very astute observer, and women have been known to gossip.”
    Brett shook his head as the waiter brought a glass of cabernet and a cup of coffee to the table.
    “I’ve been thinking about that little run-in with Patti. Dana and I don’t even know those people. The meeting at Saks was awkward, but there’s no harm done.”
    “What if I told you that Jack Hartlen has a meeting with Patrick Denner next week?”
    Brett cocked his head and frowned. Patrick Denner was a corporate associate at Davis, Konen and Wright and a friend of Brett’s. “I haven’t heard anything about such a meeting,” he countered, sounding nonplussed. “You’ve heard of the Hartlens?”
    “It’s just a tidbit I picked up,” said Janice. “Ears to the ground, as they say. I don’t know any particulars, but if the Hartlens plan on retaining the firm’s services, then sooner or later they’re going to see you or me, possibly together. Whether or not Patti will draw any conclusions is anybody’s guess. We were leaving the ladies department together. Makes for interesting speculation.”
    “There
aren’t
any conclusions to draw.”
    “That’s irrelevant when it comes to gossip, and nothing will sink the chances of a partnership faster than salacious gossip. You also might not be picking up any more wine journals for Dana if Patti’s the kind to talk.” Janice raised her eyebrows seductively as she spoke slowly and deliberately. “But I can provide some cover, shall we say, to prevent any scandal.”
    “I’d appreciate that,” Brett said. “Do whatever you can.”
    “Ah, my dear Brett, you can be so naïve. Everything comes with a price tag.”
    Brett narrowed his eyes. “Which is?”
    “I want you. In the short term, that is. No kids or picket fences for me. Just a little innocent fun. And don’t tell me that you’re not attracted to me, or you wouldn’t be sitting here. I saw the way you laughed at my remarks back at Mrs. John Q. Whatever’s shop.”
    “You’re an opportunistic woman. This is blackmail.”
    “Is it? You want me with every fiber of your being.”
    Brett sipped his coffee and thought of the years he’d positioned himself to make partner. He also thought of Dana and how she trusted him. If the Hartlens became suspicious, then his career and marriage might well be in jeopardy. Janice’s scenario was a bit far-fetched, but Dana had bumped into Jack, and he had just bumped into Patti. What were the odds? He’d seen more than one career falter due to innuendo or even an ill-timed remark. Should he do what Janice