“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, leaning an elbow on the banister. “I try not to get too caught up in it. Nothing much changes either way.”
“I suppose you’re right. I’m just trying not to become a complete cynic.” She batted her eyelashes a couple of times.
“You’re hopeful, Dorothy, and that’s why everyone loves you. Now get going.”
Dot turned and took the wide stairs two at a time.
“Slow down, Dorothy! You’re rushing away your youth.”
“Ha! Don’t worry about me, Albert!”
But she knew he had a point. Shewasin a hurry to get her life going.
When she got into her apartment, she hung her coat on the hook and put her bag in its spot. Small apartments meant keeping organized. Her phone buzzed. A text from Ryan.
“Dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us. I got a reservation at Peak. 7 p.m.”
Dot’s fingers paused over the screen. She was torn. Wait... why dinner when they already had plans for brunch that weekend? And Peak? That was just for special occasions. And the reservations were impossible to get. It was on the 101st floor and was used for...
“Oh no,” she groaned. Did this mean what she thought it meant?
Her thoughts started to race as Dot psyched herself out. The three text message dots danced in anticipation of her response. But none came.
She set the phone down without replying.
Chapter 4
Lady Liberty glowed golden in the evening’s last slice of sunlight as Mary Russo looked down at the southern tip of Manhattan from her office window in the Financial District. She pulled back her long black curly hair and tied it in a loose knot at the base of her neck with a tortoiseshell claw clip.
“What wouldyoudo?” she asked the statue. “You know, from one liberated lady to another?”
The usually coolheaded Mary was in a jam. She was twenty-five, a young woman in a hurry who thought maybe she’d made a bad decision with her career direction.
She was the first of her Staten Island family to graduate from college, and no one was surprised when this argumentative Russo girl became a lawyer, a year earlier than expected based on early credits. She’d immediately joined the prestigious firm where she’d interned during law school. It specialized in initial public offerings and mergers and acquisitions, which was a lucrative path in New York. However, if she was being honest, it was somewhat boring. There was little drama in corporate law. Almost everything was settled in conference rooms not courtrooms.
After several months at the firm, a few doubts about her career path crept into her mind. On the one hand, she was good at her job and on track to become a junior partner. She was proficient with the AI paralegal software the firm licensed and tried to teach herself something new about it every day. That made her stand out, and she was often asked to join cases by partners across the firm who’d heard about her skills. They appreciated how she’d explain the new technology in a way that didn’t make them feel ancient. Because of her efforts, she’d even received a surprise bonus after a big case she assisted on was settled.
Given that her salary was decent, she was able to rent a studio apartment in Battery Park City and could see a path to a corner office in several years. That was very appealing—no financial worries, and living in one of the trendiest neighborhoods in New York City.
But on the other hand, what about the time between now and that corner office? Was thisreallywhat she wanted to do with her life? Was there more to life than billable hours for bankers?
A message popped up on Slack from one of the office managers. “Is anyone able to walk a charger over to Henry Rickleman at district court? He forgot to take it with him. Again.”
Mary responded right away. “I can do it.” Any excuse to get out for some fresh air. Autumn was her favorite time of year.
“Great—thanks. Hey, bring back some cookies from Funny Face for everyone. We could use some Crumbfettis to get through the afternoon. Brutal new deadline just came in. Just expense it.”
“I’ll bring back the fun.” She knew that as soon as she set the cookies out in the communal kitchen they’d be gone within minutes. Sugar was a heck of a drug for lawyers who didn’t leave the office to eat.
Mary got up from her chair and smoothed her light gray cigarette pants over her long legs. She wore an ivory silk top with a ruffled front, a pale gray blazer, and her signature black stilettos. She could walk as easily in heels as she could in sneakers. Her medium-size gold hoops and her great-grandmother’s small gold cross around her neck were her only jewelry. Before leaving, she grabbed her mid-length and well-worn black leather coat off the back of the communal coatrack and threw it around her shoulders.
Mary was five seven and model thin. She shunned exercise and loved the big Italian meals her grandmother made every Sunday.
“Mangia, Maria,” Nonna teased her.
“It’s not fair,” her friends said, wishing her natural metabolism would rub off on them.
Mary was the beloved youngest child of Tony and Christine Russo. She had three older brothers, Gabe, Frankie, and Joey. They ran a protection racket around their baby sister, which had been a blessing and a curse as she was growing up.