On the magic Friday morning at ten o’clock, Jennifer made an appointment with a new Italian hairdresser Cynthia had told her all the models were going to. At ten-thirty, Jennifer called to cancel it. At eleven, she rescheduled the appointment.
Ken Bailey invited Jennifer to lunch, but she was too nervous to eat anything. Instead, she went shopping at Bendel’s, where she bought a short, dark green chiffon dress that matched her eyes, a pair of slender brown pumps and a matching purse. She knew she was far over her budget, but she could not seem to stop herself.
She passed the perfume department on the way out, and on an insane impulse bought a bottle of Joy perfume. It was insane because the man was married.
Jennifer left the office at five o’clock and went home to change. She spent two hours bathing and dressing for Adam, and when she was finished she studied herself critically in the mirror. Then she defiantly combed out her carefully coiffured hair and tied it back with a green ribbon. That’s better, she thought. I’m a lawyer going to have dinner with another lawyer. But when she closed the door she left behind a faint fragrance of rose and jasmine.
Lutèce was nothing like what Jennifer had expected. A French tricolor flew above the entrance of the small town house. Inside, a narrow hall led to a small bar and beyond was a sunroom, bright and gay, with porch wicker and plaid tablecloths. Jennifer was met at the door by the owner, André Soltner.
“May I help you?”
“I’m meeting Mr. Adam Warner. I think I’m a little early.”
He waved Jennifer toward the small bar. “Would you care for a drink while you are waiting, Miss Parker?”
“That would be nice,” Jennifer said. “Thank you.”
“I’ll send a waiter over.”
Jennifer took a seat and amused herself watching the bejeweled and mink-draped women arriving with their escorts. Jennifer had read and heard about Lutèce. It was reputed to be Jacqueline Kennedy’s favorite restaurant and to have excellent food.
A distinguished-looking gray-haired man walked up to Jennifer and said, “Mind if I join you for a moment?”
Jennifer stiffened. “I’m waiting for someone,” she began. “He should be here—”
He smiled and sat down. “This isn’t a pickup, Miss Parker.” Jennifer looked at him in surprise, unable to place him. “I’m Lee Browning, of Holland and Browning.” It was one of the most prestigious law firms in New York. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the way you handled the Wilson trial.”
“Thank you, Mr. Browning.”
“You took a big chance. It was a no-win case.” He studied her a moment. “The rule is, when you’re on the wrong side of a no-win case, make sure it’s one where there’s no publicity involved. The trick is to spotlight the winners and kick the losers under the rug. You fooled a lot of us. Have you ordered a drink yet?”
“No—”
“May I—?” He beckoned to a waiter. “Victor, bring us a bottle of champagne, would you? Dom Perignon.”
“Right away, Mr. Browning.”
Jennifer smiled. “Are you trying to impress me?”
He laughed aloud. “I’m trying to hire you. I imagine you’ve been getting a lot of offers.”
“A few.”
“Our firm deals mostly in corporate work, Miss Parker, but some of our more affluent clients frequently get carried away and have need of a criminal defense attorney. I think we could make you a very attractive proposal. Would you care to stop by my office and discuss it?”
“Thank you, Mr. Browning. I’m really flattered, but I just moved into my own offices. I’m hoping it will work out.”
He gave her a long look. “It will work out.” He raised his eyes as someone approached and got to his feet and held out his hand. “Adam, how are you?”
Jennifer looked up and Adam Warner was standing there shaking hands with Lee Browning. Jennifer’s heart began to beat faster and she could feel her face flush. Idiot schoolgirl!
Adam Warner looked at Jennifer and Browning and said, “You two know each other?”
“We were just beginning to get acquainted,” Lee Browning said easily. “You arrived a little too soon.”
“Or just in time.” He took Jennifer’s arm. “Better luck next time, Lee.”
The captain came up to Adam. “Would you like your table now, Mr. Warner, or would you like to have a drink at the bar first?”
“We’ll take a table, Henri.”
When they had been seated, Jennifer looked around the room and recognized half a dozen celebrities.
“This place is like a Who’s Who,” she said.
Adam looked at her. “It is now.”
Jennifer felt herself blush again. Stop it, you fool. She wondered how many other girls Adam Warner had brought here while his wife was sitting at home, waiting for him. She wondered if any of them ever learned that he was married, or whether he always managed to keep that a secret from them. Well, she had an advantage. You’re going to be in for a surprise, Mr. Warner, Jennifer thought.
They ordered drinks and dinner and busied themselves making small talk. Jennifer let Adam do most of the talking. He was witty and charming, but she was armored against his charm. It was not easy. She found herself smiling at his anecdotes, laughing at his stories.
It won’t do him any good, Jennifer told herself. She was not looking for a fling. The specter of her mother haunted her. There was a deep passion within Jennifer that she was afraid to explore, afraid to release.