Having Alice with me the entire weekend has been like a dream, a movie about someone else’s happy life. I feel like I’m an entirely different person when I can fall asleep beside her, then wake up wanting her just as badly. She has no background in law, but listened to me when I talked about our strategy for wooing the Cavs to sign with us.
Bringing on a big client from Cleveland will mean travel and long hours, but our firm feels ready for growth. Alice is part of that. I know we haven’t known each other long, but something just clicks with her. I might have met someone I can really trust.
Sunday night Alice tells me she’s going to make the donuts at my apartment so they’re ready for the early meeting. I try to manage my discomfort at the huge mess she’s made of the kitchen. “Just stay in the bedroom,” she tells me as she weighs flour on a scale on my formerly-pristine table.
I’m pretty sure I don't own half the gadgets she keeps pulling out, and frankly I’m fascinated by this process. “I didn’t know donuts were something you could just make at home,” I say, wringing my hands so I don’t reach for the eggshells she’s left on the counter.
“Tim, you know I’m going to clean this when I’m done. You know this. You’re making me nervous.” She’s got a streak of flour on her nose. She’s baking in one of my t-shirts and, from the looks of things, nothing else. Even with the AC cranked, the kitchen is scorching with the oil heating on the stove. I catch a glimpse of Alice’s ass as she turns to grab a set of tongs, and I suddenly care less about the mess.
“How much longer will this take?” I step behind her, not wanting to get in her way, but making sure she can feel my intentions.
Alice is a stone cold pro, though, and barely responds. “Half hour. Then clean up. Go on, scoot.”
I don’t want to miss my chance to see her ass again, so I pull up the presentation outline and read it at the counter while she finishes. The second I see her turn off the stove, brushing her hair back from her forehead, I tackle her to the kitchen floor. “I love the way you sound when you squeak,” I say, reaching up under the t-shirt.
“I do not squeak,” she says, indignantly. “Mm, that feels good. But I thought you wanted me to clean up this mess?”
“I found something I want even more,” I tell her. “We’ll clean it up together in a few minutes.”
In the morning, Alice doesn’t look well. Her eyes have dark circles underneath and she moves sluggishly as she gets ready. “Hey,” I say, rubbing her shoulders. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She shakes her head, tells me she didn’t sleep well. I chalk it up to nerves and overexertion. "Take tomorrow off, babe. Comp day."
She doesn't respond, though, slowly walking through the motions of packing everything up.
We get ready together, and I think about how easily she fits into my routine. She showers while I shave. We dance around each other to access the mirror and brush our teeth. It feels like home with her instead of just a place to live. When we’re ready to go, Alice has boxed up the food and tries to balance it with her duffel bag from the weekend. “Babe,” I tell her, “don’t take that huge bag to work. Come on, we’ll get it at the end of the day, ok?”
She nods and lets it drop. She really doesn’t look great, but I’ve never seen her game face before. I figure she might just be focused. We don’t talk much in the town car on the way to work, and I peck her cheek after depositing the cardboard boxes for her in the kitchen.
Right on time, the suits from the Cavs enter the lobby of Stag Law, and I hear Donna greet them. I straighten my tie in the mirror. This is it. Time to win a new client, and Tim Stag doesn’t lose.
Donna opens the door and I walk confidently toward the six men. “Stag,” they say pumping my hand. “Nice place you got here.”
“We do our best, Steve. If you could just follow Donna to the conference room we can get started.”
Alice must have come in advance to set everything up. She’s brought several types of donuts and coffee, procured a fruit tray, and made little dishes of yogurt with granola. Juniper Jones and another of my associates rise to greet our guests. I turn the floor over to Juniper, and I can already tell we’ve got them eating from our hands. Literally.
Juniper spends the next two hours guiding the conversation. She has read up on this franchise, knows the ins and outs of the players union, and is absolutely flawless describing our strengths representing professional athletes across different sports.
Steve glances over to me at one point, reading some documents, and I jump in, saying, “We represent our athletes through all legal aspects of their careers, from endorsement contracts to workers comp litigation...and we’ve got a fantastic record when it comes to exploring the morality clause in their contracts.”
He laughs and throws the papers back on the table. “In other words, you can make the hookers and blow disappear when you need to.” I shrug. We are in, I think, but I can’t let that show.
The door opens and Alice comes in with lunch. Perfect timing. She sets out the salad and fresh pasta. I can smell the basil and lemon--always lemon with her food--from across the room. I meet her eyes with a smile, but my face quickly falls. Alice looks ashen. She reaches for a pitcher of cucumber water from the cart, and I see her falter.
“Alice,” I rise, walking around the table. She looks at me, and as if in slow motion I see her start to fall. “Alice!” Her eyes roll up in her head and she pitches forward. Her temple catches the corner of the table. I reach her as she hits the ground, a stream of blood flowing from her forehead.
“Stag? What’s going on here?” The room is on their feet, everyone crowding around Alice.
I develop tunnel vision. I pull her onto my lap. She’s still unconscious. “Juniper, call 911,” I bark out. Alice groans in pain and brings her hand to her temple. I pull the pocket square from my suit jacket and press it against her cut. I’m not sure if she needs stitches. There’s so much blood.
I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder, but I won’t let go of Alice. I need to know if she’s all right. The paramedics arrive and peel me from Alice. Juniper puts her hand on my shoulder again. I hear her this time. “Tim,” she’s saying. “Tim, she just fainted.”
I nod. She’s going to be fine. “Because this happened at work, they’re going to take Alice to Mercy hospital to get checked out.” Juniper keeps talking and I realize we are still in the conference room. The Cavs are still here, retainer contract unsigned. “Would you like me to go to the hospital with Alice or would you like to go?” Juniper pauses. She meets my eye, and I know she knows Alice is more than an employee to me. “Maybe you should go to deal with the paperwork? As her boss?” I nod, and don’t look back as I sprint down the hall after the paramedics.