The Single Life. Liz Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ family, no significant other of either sex. He always attended office functions solo, as she did. He had joked about it once, suggesting they join forces as the few remaining singles on board. They had laughed loudly and long, but they both knew that was never going to happen. Which was too bad. Because if she didn’t have a rule about dating colleagues, he would be first on her list.

      “Congratulations, Clare!” He waited for her to sit down before lowering himself into a chair. “I heard about the Dubovski settlement.”

      She kept her eyes on the table, away from the long, lean legs stretched out in front of her. “Thank you, Anton. I’m pleased with the outcome. It went well for us.”

      “That’s an understatement!” He laughed, and his rugged features softened, making him look younger than the forty-something he was. “Astounding is what everybody else is saying.”

      She tried to focus on his words, not the vibrant tones of his deep voice. Funny how his voice always sounded so authoritative in court and with clients, when all she could hear in it now were the rich, throaty timbres more fitting for the bedroom.

      Clare ignored the tingling sensations spreading from her stomach to her toes. “Congratulations to you, too, Anton,” she said, resisting the pull of his blue eyes. “You were a big part of that success.”

      She worked hard to transmute her face into a patronizing grin, the kind of smile that she used to get from the most senior lawyer in the office when she first joined the firm. Not that Mr. Bailey Senior had had many grins for her. They were reserved for the “boys” who went golfing or fishing with him.

      Now Clare allowed herself one last, quick glance at Anton’s broad shoulders. Then, bracing herself for the work before them, she reached for the file, her manner all business. “About McGrady vs. McGrady. Have you finished the Preliminary Declaration of Disclosure?”

      CHAPTER 3

      It took Lauren a day to recover from her disappointing meeting with Diane, thanks to a phone call from Chrissie that prevented her from overindulging in self-pity.

      “You can’t stop after one failure, Mom,” Chrissie had told her. “Do you know how many applications I had to fill out before I got this job? Believe me, I lost count.”

      “But you’re young, Chrissie. You have all the time in the world. You could afford to wait for your dream position. I can’t. I’ve got bills closing in on me.”

      “It’s not all happening tomorrow,” Chrissie said with the same conviction she’d used to get her position as legal advisor for an international organization. “You can still call around.”

      “But Diane said—”

      “Forget Diane, Mom. So she wasn’t helpful. So it didn’t work out at Western. Do you know how many universities and colleges there are in the Chicago area?”

      “I know, sweetheart. But it’s not me they want.”

      “Oh, Mom! All of them would kill to have you!”

      Not Western apparently. “Sweetheart—”

      “Do you want me to come back and do it for you, Mom? I will if I have to. Don’t think I won’t.”

      Lauren was touched by her daughter’s concern. Chrissie had done so much for her since the divorce. She had even been ready to give up the job she had been after ever since she’d graduated from law school. But Lauren had put her foot down and insisted she would be fine.

      She was going to have to do the same thing now, although it meant agreeing to make those calls. Besides, she didn’t have the energy to argue with her daughter. Even with an ocean and a continent separating them, Chrissie was more formidable than a steamroller. No wonder she’d gotten the position she’d wanted.

      “Okay, I’ll do it,” Lauren said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

      “Great, Mom.”

      But after her sixth rejection, Lauren felt she would have been better off not complying. No one she spoke with was as intimidating as Diane, but the responses were all pretty much the same. There were no positions open for the coming semester. Budget constraints were so severe, some of the staff would have to be cut. Either Lauren was overqualified for teaching introductory writing courses or she wasn’t experienced enough. For some recruiters, she was too prestigious for their school’s humble programs. For others, she lacked the snappy, experimental and contemporary style their students coveted.

      Whichever way she looked, she was wrong for the job. So now she wasn’t only a has-been writer and a failed wife, she was also a no-go writing teacher!

      Lauren wasn’t ready to risk any more rejection, especially suspecting that the acceptances were going to kids who could barely sign their names when she had had her first articles published. She almost didn’t tell Chrissie. Her daughter was bound to encourage her to keep trying with other schools. But when she asked, Lauren couldn’t lie. She wasn’t about to break one of the fundamental rules of parenting over this.

      Surprisingly, Chrissie didn’t press the issue.

      “Never mind about teaching, Mom,” she said, her voice as clear as if she were standing next to her. “Sell your talents at writing.”

      What do you think I have been trying to do? Lauren wanted to scream, but she swallowed the retort. Chrissie was trying so hard to be encouraging. The least Lauren could do was play the game.

      “And who would want to hire me? Unless you know someone who wants his family history written. Or maybe some love letters,” she added, thinking of one of Chrissie’s favorite films. “No. Forget that. I’m no Cyrano de Bergerac.”

      Chrissie laughed. “Not love letters, Mom, but online dating profiles. Now that’s an idea. In fact—”

      “A bad idea,” Lauren intervened before her daughter could go any further. “I don’t even know what they are. Seriously, Chrissie—”

      “Seriously, Mom. Maybe you’re no Cyrano, but people do hire writers. Businesses need writers. So do nonprofit organizations. We just hired someone to write a ten-page brochure for us. That’s what made me think of you. It’s the sort of thing you could do easily. You did it for Dad for years without getting paid. In fact, come to think of it, after you put together a writing portfolio, you might contact some of his colleagues and see if they’re interested.”

      “What a good idea, Chrissie!” Lauren said, pressing hard on her lips so she wouldn’t yell with exasperation.

      Because, of course, it was a terrible idea. Perhaps Charles’s colleagues would send some work her way, but it would be as a favor to her ex-husband, the kind of favor she could do without. She wouldn’t put what little dignity she had up for sale.

      But, she realized after she and Chrissie had said their goodbyes, she wasn’t ready to give up her house, either. She might not want to contact Charles’s friends, but Chrissie did have a point: there must be someone out there who could use her gift with words. Just because she couldn’t land a teaching job didn’t mean she couldn’t write. Just because she was having problems with her book didn’t mean she couldn’t work on someone else’s.

      She was having a run of bad luck, but she could turn things СКАЧАТЬ