Perdie whapped her vintage Louis Vuitton briefcase onto the kitchen table and kicked her heels off as she made her way to the fridge. She bent over in search of something sticky or salty or sweet or any combination of those things. Ravenous. Ah yes, this glass container of salted caramel topping will do. She shoved the spoon in her mouth, caramel sticking to the roof.
Footsteps neared from above, and Lucille’s very off-tune rendition of Clairo’s “Pretty Girl” echoed in the staircase.
Lucille halted at the bottom of the steps, Bananas trailing at her feet. She spied Perdie in the middle of the kitchen.
Perdie shrugged, spoon in mouth. “Wha?”
“You had sex,” Lucille gasped, her voice loud. She yanked out her earbuds and scuttled over to Perdie, Bananas’s nails clicking on the hardwood behind her. “Wait a minute, but with whom?” She tapped a finger to her chin and circled Perdie’s body, eyeing her suspiciously. Perdie pulled the sticky spoon from her mouth, chewing on the caramel. “Did you have sex with Frank because he gave you a promotion? You know you’re not supposed to do that, right? He doesn’t pay you enough. Jill worked as a dominatrix in college and she made way more money than you.”
Perdie swallowed hard and let out a sigh. “I didn’t get the promotion, Luce.”
Lucille’s mouth dropped. “What? But your thing with the settlement, and all those hours you bill, and what about how they promoted Bill Wagner last year and he’d never even argued a motion in front of a judge before.”
Perdie frowned. “Wow, do I talk about work that much?”
Lucille nodded. “Yeah, and that’s how I know how shitty this is.” She opened her arms and stalked into Perdie, squishing the sticky jar between them, Perdie’s body stiffening in the embrace. “I hate those legal fuckers. You want me to put poison ivy in their offices? I can send it in a mixed bouquet.”
“I thought that settlement was going to see me to the next level but turns out it still wasn’t enough. It never feels like anything I do is enough. They wanted someone who could bring in big business. How am I supposed to bring in big business if I’m not a partner?”
Lucille rested her head on Perdie’s shoulder, rocking them back and forth together. “Remember I used to help you study during law school and it all seemed so impossible because you could barely keep your eyes opened? You figured out a way then. You’ll figure out a way this time too.”
“If by study you mean steal Adderall for me, then yes. But thanks.” Perdie extracted herself from Lucille’s embrace. “You’ve always supported me the best.”
“I know.” Lucille placed her hands on Perdie’s shoulders. “I don’t have any Adderall, but I have edibles. We could brainstorm a new plan?”
Perdie, Lucille, and a snoring Bananas sprawled on the overstuffed leather couch together in the open space of the living room. Large feathered throw pillows piled between them and the biggest bowl of cheese popcorn rested on Lucille’s lap.
Lucille shoved a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, the errant kernels tumbling down her Solange nightshirt. “Okay, okay, okay. Here’s what you should do.” She chewed loudly and pointed a wobbly finger at Perdie. “Quit the firm, burn the building to the ground, walk away like Angela Bassett in How Stella Got Her Groove Back, and work at the flower shop with me. I’d give you a million promotions, and I’d only ogle you a little bit.” She tilted her head. “You do have great tits though, so it’s not like it would be my fault.”
Perdie had changed into flannel pants and a tank top before she and Lucille each consumed a weed gummy. They’d considered splitting one until Lucille insisted that the only feminist choice was for each of them to take a full dose. “It’s what Susan B. Anthony would’ve wanted,” she’d said as they unwrapped jumbo gummy bears from individual plastic packages. “Although, contextually speaking, Susan B. Anthony was pretty problematic.”
Perdie pulled at the topknot on her head, snuggling deeper under the faux-fur blanket with Bananas tucked into her armpit.
“I can’t quit the law.” Perdie stroked the soft, smushed folds of Bananas’s face, marveling at how many silver furs had infiltrated the canvas of his once all-black muzzle.
“Why not?”
Perdie sighed. “Because I’m good at it.” Bananas inhaled a loud snore in agreement. “Plus a fuckton of student loan debt. I gotta keep you in Solange shirts somehow.”
Lucille nodded. “When she’s right, she’s right. Next idea.” She tapped the top of her head. “You could sleep with Frank in exchange for partnership. Fuck your way to the top.”
Perdie huffed, warranting a glare from Bananas. “Gross. He’s a total misogynist.”
“Ah-ha. So, it wasn’t Frank you had sex with. Are you going to tell me who it was? I know you did something with someone, Perdita Stone. I haven’t been your best friend for twenty years for nothing.” She coughed after shoving too much popcorn in her mouth.
A vision of Carter Leplan kneeling between her legs and stroking himself off with her red silk panties flashed before her eyes, making her stomach flip. She didn’t want to cry right now, and she really didn’t want to tell Lucille.
Lucille’s snapping fingers appeared before her eyes. “Hello, hello, Ground Control to Major Tom.”
Perdie shook her head, but before she could say anything a peal of maniacal giggles escaped her. Damn edibles. She started wheezing in between giggles before answering Lucille. The words came out in a jumble. “I let Carter Leplan go down on me on a table in a private conference room after finding out they hired him on as a partner instead of promoting me.” She blinked up at Lucille.
Lucille gulped her popcorn, eyes wide. But then puffs of laughter escaped. “Hold the front fucking door, what?” She started laughing too, until the two of them were both giggling on a couch together.
When their laughter died down, Lucille caught her breath. “How? How?”
Perdie waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. But he’s at Joy and Schulz now, virtually my boss, and I am fuuuuuuuuucked. In so, so many ways.”
Lucille shoved her hand into her silky black hair. “That’s so much worse than I thought.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey. Light bulb.” Lucille pointed her index finger in the air. “Brilliant idea by Lucille, you’re welcome. Call up that Noah guy? He seemed to like you. Wasn’t that the plan to get over Carter anyway?”
“Wasn’t exactly sparks between the two of us. But he could have a potential case for Joy and Schulz.”
“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me that. What are you waiting for?”
“He has my card. He hasn’t reached out. Don’t want to be pushy about it.” Perdie shifted under her blanket. “These kinds of things require finesse. Professionalism.” Forget the fact that she’d passed out drunk on his couch.
“Are you kidding? Time is of the essence. You’ve gotta take the bull by the horns. Take the snake by the rattle. The balls by the dick—wait, no...maybe not that last one. Anyway, what’ve you got to lose? You’re already pretty much rock bottom.”
Perdie chuckled. “You have such a delicate way with words.”
Lucille peered beneath long, dark lashes. “Besides, I thought he was kinda sexy.”
“Oh really?” Perdie raised an eyebrow. She thought about it, reaching for her phone. “Okay, Noah it is then.”
To her surprise, Noah texted in less than a minute, or at least what felt like less than a minute to Perdie. She sent her best argument via text why he should come see them to talk about his potential patent lawsuit when she received another text from him.
Noah: Is Lucille there?
Perdie clapped her hand over her mouth. She glanced up at her friend, trying to sound nonchalant. “You haven’t heard from Hampton recently, have you?”
Lucille laughed a little too hard. “Nah. Not a peep. I’m an emancipated lady. Good riddance.”
Perdie held up her phone camera. “Smile for Noah, Luce.”
Lucille flipped the bird to the camera, yelling, “I don’t smile for no man.” Then she fell back, laughing at her own joke. “Ah, I’m really high.”
Perdie sent the picture with their address.
Perdie: She’s here.
Typing bubbles appeared. See you in twenty.
Perdie woke up late to the frantic buzzing of her alarm clock, her heart pounding, and hair in a frazzled topknot, but it didn’t matter because she had a plan. Perdita Stone was a new woman, reborn, and with her eyes opened.
She reviewed the notes she’d taken on her laptop from the night before from her meeting with Noah. To Noah’s disappointment (and Perdie’s too), Lucille had shuffled off to bed as soon as Noah arrived, announcing she was too high for public consumption. Whatever that meant.
Luckily, Noah had still been nice enough to talk business with Perdie anyway, laying out all the specific, science-y details of his patent case. She could piece together the legal end. They would probably have to hire an expert witness or two to solidify their case, but Perdie had a good hunch about things. Real good.
No time for a red dress and matching bra and underwear today, Perdie yanked on a pair of black cigarette pants with a white button-down and silver smoking shoes. She left her hair in the topknot, and threw on her glasses.
She refused to let the presence of Carter Leplan influence how she dressed. She absolutely did not care what he thought of her one bit.
She arrived at the attorneys’ meeting right on time, rushing to find a seat in the enormous room. Joy and Schulz was one of the biggest plaintiff’s firms in the country, and there were well over two hundred attorneys shoved into the downstairs event room of their office building. After the general attorneys’ meeting they would break off into smaller practice group meetings. That’s when Perdie planned to pitch her case to Frank.
The attorneys were in a titter today. She took a seat next to the two other women in her practice group, Jennifer and Sophia. They were both a few years younger than her.
They gave Perdie slight, distracted smiles and Jennifer whispered over her shoulder, “Perdita, did you see the new guy?”
A chill ran through her. “No, who is it?”
Sophia leaned her head closer to the conversation. “We don’t know yet, but he’s got to be an attorney.”
Jennifer shook her head, clicking her teeth. “If I weren’t a married woman, I tell you what...”
“That man makes Chris Hemsworth look like my seventy-year-old gastroenterologist,” said Sophia.
“You’re divorced, right, Perdita?” Jennifer asked.
Perdie tried not to read anything into the slight tinge of her voice. “Nope, never married.” She pulled out her phone in distraction. “I’m sure I’ve told you that before.”
Jennifer shrugged. “Oh, well, no offense or anything.”
Sophia waved her hand, shushing them. “Look, there he is sitting next to Ferris Joy...he must be someone important.”
“That’s Carter Leplan,” Perdie said.
Sophia narrowed her eyes, nodding faintly. “He’s that hot defense attorney out in San Francisco. What’s he’s doing here? Perdie, didn’t you have some kind of depo out there?”
Perdie swallowed hard. “Something like that.”
Her phone lit up.
See something of interest?
The message came from a new contact. She sneaked a peek at Carter to find him deep in conversation with Ferris Joy. He was dressed positively Charlestonian in dark denim with a forest green V-neck sweater with a blazer. One side of his sleeve had been hiked up so she could barely make out the dark beginnings of the tattoos on his arm. Her knowledge of his hidden tattoos flagged as intimate and forbidden. She quickly averted her gaze, typing on her phone.
I don’t think Interest is the word I’m looking for.
Sure enough he slipped his phone from the inner pocket of his blazer, not missing a beat in his conversation. Her phone lit up.
What word are you looking for?
She glared at him from a distance, but he was still talking. She typed.
Disdain.
This time when he removed his phone from his pocket, he frowned at the message. She waited to see if he would text again but nothing. A secret part of her was disappointed. For a moment, guilt trickled into her conscience. True, she was pissed at him, but there was no reason to be overtly hostile in the workplace.
That was unnecessarily rude. I’ll endeavor to be more professional next time.
Typing bubbles appeared on the screen.
Speaking of professional. Your shirt’s buttoned wrong.
Her gaze shot down to her chest. Shit.
Another text appeared.
It’s okay, buttons are hard. Would it make you feel better if I buttoned mine wrong too?
Despite herself, she laughed.
Jennifer scrunched her nose. “What’s so funny?”
Perdie scratched the back of her head and shrugged. “Twitter.”
She sneaked a peek at Carter, but he was already looking at her this time. Wasn’t she supposed to be furious with him? Yes. Yes, she was.
And then...he winked.