firm?" I asked her.
She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers, caressing my fingers like worry beads. "I don't know. Teach, probably, or do what I've been doing only on a smaller scale, work from home. Neuromarketing is a hot new field. It's all about how the brain influences decision making. My skills are transferable to that field. I might put out some feelers."
"You could talk to Milo Harper, take his offer."
"I'd rather starve."
"Why? He seems okay."
She withdrew her hand. "And you know that how?"
I told her about my conversation with Simon, my meeting with Harper, and that I had accepted Harper's job offer.
She folded her arms across her chest. "When were you going to get around to telling me?"
"I thought I'd wait until we finished your list."
She frowned. "Sorry. I'm whining."
"Nope. Not your nature. You worry, argue, and dissect but you don't whine. So why is working for Harper worse than roaming the streets rummaging through trash cans?"
She parked her elbows on the table, locked her fingers together, and rested her chin on her hands and studied me. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking about more than her answer. She was anticipating the conversation that would follow, mapping it out in her mind.
"I don't trust him."
"You've told me that before. Why not?"
She took a deep breath. "He is not an honorable man."
"That's two conclusions and zero facts. Convince me," I said.
"I saw it in his face when he tried to recruit me."
"You didn't like his involuntary facial expressions? What did he do, flash a secret smirk or stick his tongue out at you?"
She wadded her linen napkin and threw it onto the table. "Don't demean what I do, Jack."
"I'm not demeaning it one bit. I know your track record but you're not infallible. Give the guy a chance."
"That's the point. I gave him a chance when there was nothing on the line. He told me about his vision for the institute, how the brain is the last frontier and how he needed someone with my expertise."
"And you thought he was blowing smoke?"
"No, I'm sure he believes every word."
"Then what?"
"He asked me what it would take for me to come work for him. I told him there was nothing he could do because I was happy with my firm. He asked whether I would reconsider if there were no firm. I told him that we were doing quite well and I couldn't imagine that happening. That's when he told me that life is uncertain and that he could imagine anything happening. When he said that, he revealed part of his hidden self. His expression was ravenous, like a wild animal."
"He's a billionaire, for Christ's sake. They're all ravenous. That's how they got so rich."
"He's a billionaire who sits on the boards of three of our biggest clients—all of whom quit using us after I turned Harper down. That was six months ago."
"I thought you said it was the economy."
"That's what the general counsels of each company told me. Then I found out that they hired our competition."
"You think Harper is sabotaging your practice so you'll accept his job offer? C'mon."
She ran her fingers through her hair. "I think he's sabotaging my practice because I didn't accept his offer. You can work for him if you like, but I won't."
I leaned back in my chair. Kate was right more often than she was wrong but this was thin.
"I need this job," I said.
She grabbed the edge of the table with both hands. "Why? So you'll feel useful and validated? So you won't feel disabled? Jack, you're so much more than that. You can't spend the rest of your life trying to go back to who you used to be. You've got to be who you are now."
"That's not enough," I said, the words catching in my throat as the shakes claimed me.
Kate took my hand, waiting for the tremors to fade. "I think we can both use some dessert. Let's go. My place."
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy was on the couch when I came home Sunday morning, reading the newspaper. Ruby raced in from the kitchen, trailed by another cockapoo,
She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers, caressing my fingers like worry beads. "I don't know. Teach, probably, or do what I've been doing only on a smaller scale, work from home. Neuromarketing is a hot new field. It's all about how the brain influences decision making. My skills are transferable to that field. I might put out some feelers."
"You could talk to Milo Harper, take his offer."
"I'd rather starve."
"Why? He seems okay."
She withdrew her hand. "And you know that how?"
I told her about my conversation with Simon, my meeting with Harper, and that I had accepted Harper's job offer.
She folded her arms across her chest. "When were you going to get around to telling me?"
"I thought I'd wait until we finished your list."
She frowned. "Sorry. I'm whining."
"Nope. Not your nature. You worry, argue, and dissect but you don't whine. So why is working for Harper worse than roaming the streets rummaging through trash cans?"
She parked her elbows on the table, locked her fingers together, and rested her chin on her hands and studied me. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking about more than her answer. She was anticipating the conversation that would follow, mapping it out in her mind.
"I don't trust him."
"You've told me that before. Why not?"
She took a deep breath. "He is not an honorable man."
"That's two conclusions and zero facts. Convince me," I said.
"I saw it in his face when he tried to recruit me."
"You didn't like his involuntary facial expressions? What did he do, flash a secret smirk or stick his tongue out at you?"
She wadded her linen napkin and threw it onto the table. "Don't demean what I do, Jack."
"I'm not demeaning it one bit. I know your track record but you're not infallible. Give the guy a chance."
"That's the point. I gave him a chance when there was nothing on the line. He told me about his vision for the institute, how the brain is the last frontier and how he needed someone with my expertise."
"And you thought he was blowing smoke?"
"No, I'm sure he believes every word."
"Then what?"
"He asked me what it would take for me to come work for him. I told him there was nothing he could do because I was happy with my firm. He asked whether I would reconsider if there were no firm. I told him that we were doing quite well and I couldn't imagine that happening. That's when he told me that life is uncertain and that he could imagine anything happening. When he said that, he revealed part of his hidden self. His expression was ravenous, like a wild animal."
"He's a billionaire, for Christ's sake. They're all ravenous. That's how they got so rich."
"He's a billionaire who sits on the boards of three of our biggest clients—all of whom quit using us after I turned Harper down. That was six months ago."
"I thought you said it was the economy."
"That's what the general counsels of each company told me. Then I found out that they hired our competition."
"You think Harper is sabotaging your practice so you'll accept his job offer? C'mon."
She ran her fingers through her hair. "I think he's sabotaging my practice because I didn't accept his offer. You can work for him if you like, but I won't."
I leaned back in my chair. Kate was right more often than she was wrong but this was thin.
"I need this job," I said.
She grabbed the edge of the table with both hands. "Why? So you'll feel useful and validated? So you won't feel disabled? Jack, you're so much more than that. You can't spend the rest of your life trying to go back to who you used to be. You've got to be who you are now."
"That's not enough," I said, the words catching in my throat as the shakes claimed me.
Kate took my hand, waiting for the tremors to fade. "I think we can both use some dessert. Let's go. My place."
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy was on the couch when I came home Sunday morning, reading the newspaper. Ruby raced in from the kitchen, trailed by another cockapoo,
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