“Suspended.” That was the word that stuck in my mind when I woke Saturday morning, once the initial anger had passed. I reminded myself that my ego was secondary, that the real fight was for my father. But it was hard not to take a betrayal like this personally, especially from Duncan Fitz, a guy who’d given me nothing but glowing reviews from the day I’d started working for him.
I wondered what the party line would be on my suspension. The firm couldn’t announce that I’d been suspended for pressing a fraudulent claim on a kidnap-and-ransom policy. Quailty prohibited anyone-including its own lawyers-from disclosing the existence of kidnap-and-ransom insurance. Of necessity, the explanation for my departure would be vague, which would only invite salacious speculation on Miami’s legal grapevine. Soon the poor guy whose father had been kidnapped in Colombia would be known only as the idiot associate over at Cool Cash who’d been suspended for sleeping with the managing partner’s sixteen-year-old daughter and kicking a blind cocker spaniel.
I could fight rumors, but on the more serious front, I wasn’t sure who was the more formidable opponent, the Colombian guerrillas or Quality Insurance Company. Battling alone was foolhardy. I needed help.
Since Tuesday’s uncomfortable encounter at Duffy’s Tavern, I’d left Alex alone to cool off. On Saturday morning I phoned her at home to find out where she stood. I half expected her to hang up on me, but to my surprise she suggested we meet for lunch at the News Cafe on South Beach, near her apartment. I jumped at the invitation.
“See you there,” I said, hanging up before she could reconsider.
I didn’t get to Miami Beach often. It was only a few miles away, but traffic made the trip from Coral Gables only slightly less difficult than leaping across the Grand Canyon. Each time I went, however, I vowed to make a point of going more often. Beneath a perfect blue sky, with warm breezes blowing in from the ocean, South Beach was one of the reasons to live in South Florida.
The News Cafe was a popular sidewalk cafe on the corner of Ocean Boulevard and Seventh Street, if not the heart of South Beach, at least its left ventricle. Any outside table was prime entertainment, ideal for spotting a Brazilian supermodel, the dance troupe from the latest Latin MTV video, or morbid tourists headed for a macabre Kodak moment on the very steps where Gianni Versace had been gunned down. Street traffic was typically bumper to bumper, a slow parade of expensive convertibles, motorcycles, and rolling boom boxes that blasted out a variety of music, some that made you want to get up and move to the beat, some that made you want to get up and move to Iowa. Across the boulevard was a grassy park with palm trees and volleyball courts, and then there was the famous sandy beach beyond. Scantily clad skaters maneuvered around pedestrians with the skill of slalom skiers, weaving in and out, excusing the occasional brush of a sweaty body with a glib “Sorry, dude.”
Alex showed up just seconds behind me, dressed in capri pants, a sleeveless blouse, and Chanel sunglasses. It was definitely the kind of look that would have turned my head if she’d been a stranger just passing by. We found a table in the shade of an umbrella, and the waiter brought us sparkling water with lemon. She seemed to be waiting for me to start the real conversation.
“I’m almost surprised you came,” I said.
“Why?”
“Things have taken a turn for the worse at my law firm. I thought you’d be even more concerned than ever about someone from Quality Insurance seeing us together.”
“Trust me. That doesn’t matter anymore.”
I sipped my bottled water, reluctant to ask the logical question. “Is that because you’re done with me?”
“No. It’s because Quality Insurance fired me.”
“From my case, you mean?”
She removed her sunglasses to reveal the serious expression in her eyes. “They terminated my retainer agreement. They’ll never send me another case.”
I grimaced, knowing it was my fault. “I swear, I didn’t tell anyone you were helping me.”
“I told them myself.”
“Why?”
“After you and I got together at Duffy’s, they confronted me. Apparently someone saw us there together.”
“That’s so weird. As you were leaving, I sensed someone was watching us.”
“Might have been someone from your law firm, but whoever it was has a pipeline to the general counsel for Quality Insurance.”
“That’s because the GC is also a partner in our New York office.”
“Kind of incestuous, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. So Maggie Johans called you?”
“Yeah. Wanted to know what the hell I was doing fraternizing with the enemy.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I didn’t agree with the company’s decision to deny coverage, and that I intended to continue helping you on my own terms.”
“Damn, Alex. You should have said you were pumping me for information, setting me up for their benefit.”
“Is that what you would have done?”
I thought for a second, then said, “No, but I still feel terrible. Quality Insurance has to be a huge source of business for you to lose.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“I do worry. If helping me is going to cost you an entire book of business, that’s a debt I can’t ever repay.”
“I didn’t come here to hand you a bill. If anything, I came because I felt like I was the one who owes you.”
“Owes me what?”
She lowered her eyes and said, “An apology. For the way I acted at Duffy’s the other night.”
“You had a right to be mad.”
“No. I should never have opened my mouth and accused you of playing games. Whatever is going on between you and your ex-fiancee is your business.”
“There’s nothing going on between me and Jenna.”
“That’s not the point. I was letting my personal feelings get in the way.”
She caught me in mid-sip, and I nearly choked. “You mean for me?”
“No, I mean for Duffy’s beer and popcorn. Yes, of course for you, dummy.”
“When you say personal feelings, do you mean. .”
“I’m not head over heels, okay? We’ve simply been spending a lot of time together lately, and-and would you please stop being so obtuse?”
“I just had no idea.”
“I wasn’t exactly trying to make it obvious, given our professional relationship.”
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that. . you know, you and me.”
“Now you’re lying.”
I wasn’t accustomed to this kind of directness, but in a way it was refreshing. “Okay, so maybe I was sensing a little something. But there’s nothing to apologize for.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Your father was kidnapped, and I offered to help. It’s totally unprofessional for me to inject anything else into that equation.”
“Maybe you should let me be the judge of that.”
“No.”
I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “That’s it?” I asked. “A simple no?”
“What more is there to say? You have my word that I won’t send any more confusing signals.”
I nodded, though the present signals were plenty confusing. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“I’ve thought about it all week. On principle, I refuse to back down and dump your case. I won’t let any insurance company dictate my client list to me.”
“I can respect that.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll understand that the only way I can be effective is if we agree to keep things strictly professional.”
I was speechless. Here was an intelligent, beautiful woman confessing a vague but potentially romantic interest in me, and I’d been too wrapped up in my own world to recognize the signs. To be sure, a kidnapping could have made any man oblivious. My fear, however, was that the real hang-up was still Jenna.
“I can live with that,” I said.
“Good.”
“But if you’re sticking with me on principle, you need to be aware that this is going to be a dogfight. From what the lawyers at my firm said yesterday, they might even accuse me of being a co-conspirator in the fraud.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’ve checked you out.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. You’re not the type to scam an insurance company.”
“I’m glad you think so. But the way the ransom demand matched the policy limit right down to the last dollar, I’d probably be suspicious of you if the tables were turned.”
“Did you make that list I told you to make?”
“List?”
“Anyone who would have known your father’s travel plans and who might have known he had insurance.”
“I’ve mulled it over in my head, but I can’t say I’ve physically made a list.”
“Let me help you. Did your father pay for the policy out of his own pocket, or did he get it through his company?”
“I believe he bought it himself.”
“The reason I ask is because insurance is the kind of thing he might have discussed with his partners. Oftentimes employees try to get their company to pay for it.”
“You’re suggesting that Guillermo might have set him up?”
“I’m saying that his partners might have known about the insurance. It’s up to you to figure out if they set him up.”
“I’ll look into it,” I said.
“I recommend it. Highly.”
“Why?” I asked, half kidding. “Did you check out Guillermo, too?”
She smiled thinly, almost imperceptibly. Then she put on her sunglasses and turned her gaze toward the joggers across the street, as if she’d said enough.
I watched her, intrigued. One minute she was direct and assertive, bold enough to bare her feelings. The next she was a mysterious cipher pointing me toward Nicaragua. It was possible that she’d targeted Guillermo purely as a matter of deductive reasoning. I couldn’t help but wonder, however, if something more was behind her suggestion-something that for some reason she wasn’t telling me.
“I’ll definitely check it out,” I said, staring at her nebulous reflection in my tall, empty glass.