a working dick, and an excellent sense of humor, at least until he’d found the birth control pills.
Larry waded into the noisy crowd, thick with men and women in suits, ties, and dresses, their hair moussed, dyed, or plugged, everybody yakking away. The air smelled of freshened perfume and expense accounts. Everybody looked younger than him.
Larry threaded his way through the crowd, slid onto a barstool, and rested his elbows on the old-fashioned marble bar. He sat in front of the bartender’s supply of sliced lemons, limes, and maraschino cherries, which reminded him of Allie, too. She loved maraschino cherries.
He waved at the bartender, a young guy whose neck was blanketed with tattoos. Larry had no tattoos, so he doubted he’d ever get laid again. “I’ll have a beer,” he started to say, then caught himself. “No, make that a double malt.”
“You got it!” the bartender said, and Larry wondered if everybody here was taught to say you got it, and if so, it was fine with him. A divorce? You got it!
Starting over? You got it!
“Hi,” someone said in his ear, and Larry looked over to see a young woman standing there, smiling. For a split second, he almost looked behind him. But she was talking to him.
“Hi,” Larry said back, recovering his composure.
“I think I’ve seen you at the Litigation Section meeting. You were on a panel.”
“I’m always on a panel,” Larry said, because it was true.
“I know how you feel. I’m in the Young Lawyers Section.”
“Good for you. I’m in the Half-Dead Lawyers Section.”
“Ha!” the young woman laughed, then extended her hand. “Lacy Dalrymple.”
Lacy is a name? Larry thought, but didn’t say. He shook her hand. “Larry Rucci.”
“Lacy and Larry! Funny!”
Funny. Larry felt uncomfortable, since he was more used to Allie and Larry. Luckily, the bartender set his drink down, and he took a gulp.
“I think you did a CLE program, too.”
“That I did.”
“It was about client relations. I bet you’re great at client relations.”
“I’m a ‘people person,’ my wife says,” Larry blurted out, feeling his face go red. Jesus Christ, help me. I have no idea how to talk to this fetus.
“I can tell.”
“Thanks, I think. By the way, I mean my ex-wife.” Larry felt a lawyerly impulse to correct the record. “I’m newly separated.”
“That’s obvious.” Lacy grinned. “You still have your ring on.”
“Oh, right.” Larry looked at his own hand, stricken. He’d totally forgotten. His ring was practically a part of him. “I guess I should take it off, but I don’t want to lose it, here, in a bar.” Shut the fuck up, Larry. Shut up.
Lacy sat down next to him, setting her red wine on the bar. “Want some company?”
“Sure,” Larry said, trying to get his act together. He gulped his whiskey, which burned his throat. He tried not to choke. He’d already established himself as a happy-hour rookie and newly minted single guy. He noticed that Lacy had on a wedding band plus a major sparkler, one which Allie never would’ve worn. She didn’t want him to spend the money on her, saying she didn’t deserve a big ring.
You deserve a ring as big as a meatball! Larry had said.
“Larry, what firm are you at again?”
“Dichter & O’Reilly.” Larry realized that she was trying to make conversation with him, but he didn’t know if it counted as flirting. She was married, and it had been so long since anybody had flirted with him. The only back-and-forth conversations he’d really had with young women were job interviews, so he tried to tell himself he was interviewing Lacy for a position. “So, Lacy, where do you work?”
“Morgan Lewis. I’m an associate.”
“In what section?”
“Labor. I’m in labor. That’s the joke.”
Larry laughed, trying to think of what to say next. Where do you expect to be in five years? What’s your greatest strength? What’s your greatest weakness? None of those were good questions at a bar, but Lacy started talking, telling about her practice, then launching into funny stories about the partners she worked for, some of whom he knew, and they started trading stories, then gossip, and ordered another round of drinks, and Larry finally relaxed, whether it was because of the booze, the pretty young girl, or the fact that his heart was so broken he had nothing left to lose. And when it was time, he found himself asking Lacy if she wanted to go upstairs.
She answered, I do.
Larry managed a smile, trying not to think of his wedding day.
CHAPTER 59
Allie Garvey
Allie hurried