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this is my colleague Jack Stone.”
    “Nice to meet you gentlemen,” I smile as I shake their hands, trying to conceal my disappointment at their lack of polish.
    Mel takes a lecherous look at Bonnie and me and, with a glint in his eye, asks, “So are the two of you ‘partners’?” emphasizing his pun with finger quotes. He then mischievously winks at Antoine and turns to his colleague with a big, satisfied smile.
    I mentally roll my eyes after his cheesy jeu de mots and imagine jabbing my pointy stiletto heel into his parties intimes , but I smile politely instead.
    Our lunch lingers on for far too long as Mel and Jack make failed attempts at practising their French-language skills and recount every single trip they’ve ever taken to Paris, including the several bachelor parties where they ended up ogling half-naked danseuses at Crazy Horse. Mel isn’t exactly the ticket to partnership I was hoping he’d be.
    Antoine interrupts Mel’s storytelling to advertise my previous work experience. “Catherine’s been involved in a lot of international regulatory work in Europe. She’ll be perfect for handling your international expansion plans.”
    “Fantastic,” Mel replies while playing with his toothpick.
    I glance over at Bonnie, who sighs loudly. Not good at sharing the spotlight, she glares my way before she stands to leave. She pulls out a gold lamé business card holder and casually flings a few cards on the table.
    “Gentlemen, it’s been a real pleasure. I’d be happy to help you out, but I charge a lot more by the hour than Catherine and Antoine. But then again, you get what you pay for.”
    Stunned, my spine stiffens into the back of my chair. Why did she just put us down in front of a major client?
    Mel intently surveys her backside as she walks toward the exit.
    “What a party-pooper that broad is. It’s too bad. She’s got a hot bod. With an attitude like that we wouldn’t want to have her around the office, would we, Jack? But we’d gladly take Catherine anytime.”
    Take Catherine? I suck it up, my physical revulsion matched by my determination to impress.
    Antoine shoots a dirty look at Bonnie’s retreating figure and attempts to justify her abrupt departure. “I’m really sorry about Bonnie leaving so quickly. She has her hands full these days.”
    “Listen, Ann-twone, don’t waste your breath defending Ms. Tight-Ass-Snobby-Pants ‘cause we’d much rather work with Catherine anyway.”
    After what feels like an eighteen-hour lunch, Mel finally brings up something work-related as we make our way toward the exit. He enthusiastically mentions that he’s working on his firm’s proposed expansion in Europe and that he’ll need my help in the upcoming weeks to obtain certain clearances with the European Securities Authority.
    “We’ll be talking very soon, counselaaar.” He ends with a wink and a too-close-for-comfort handshake.
    “Wonderful. Looking forward to it,” I reply, trying hard to disguise my true feelings.

Chapter 4
    T here’s no accounting for taste and most of my colleagues’ offices prove it. They are typically decorated with golf tournament trophies, Lucite IPO tombstones, empty closing dinner champagne bottles, and various unattractive knick-knacks from “exotic” four-day vacations. But Antoine’s office has a different vibe; it’s like walking into an upscale interior design shop. On a windowsill sit some tulips in a delicate red Murano glass vase and works of modern art are hung over his mahogany desk. Silver cups holding sharpened pencils and a leather agenda are neatly placed next to organized stacks of black binders and brown accordion folders.
    He stands to hand me several new files and I catch a glimpse of the silk lining of his Paul Smith jacket and a whiff of Vetiver by Guerlain. Here is a man with refined taste, a refreshingchange in a sea of Brooks Brothers suits, messy offices, and strong cologne.
    “These files have looming deadlines. I need you