Chapter 3
Liza tilted her head to the side as she updated her client's Twitter feed and listened to the caterer for her party. “No,” she said as she hit the tweet button. “I do notâI repeatâdo not want a buffet. That's not the vibe I'm going for. I want servers to roam the room with trays of hors d'oeuvres. And I really want some of your famous canapés.”
“Famous? You think so?” the caterer asked excitedly.
Liza rolled her eyes, glad that she wasn't Face-Timing with her caterer. “Oh, yes. And after this party, they are going to be Beyoncé famous. Then for the main course, everyone will be seated, so, if we can do some sort of festive plating . . .”
“What do you mean?”
Liza sighed. “This is a dinner party for some people who have the potential to change the politics in this state. The next North Carolina senator may even be there. So, be creative. I know you can do this. And, I know this isn't protocol, but that chocolate cake from Hometown Delights is to die for. Please make sure we have one.”
“You want me to get another person's food and serve it under my name?”
“No. That cake is for later. But it needs to be in the building,” Liza said while she silently formulated a plan to get Chante and Robert alone sharing coffee and cake.
“All right, I'll make it happen.”
“And that's why I love you. I have to go; call me back with the menu.”
“Will do.”
Liza hung up the phone and rose to her feet, stretching and smiling. She was actually done with her work for the day.
“I guess I should go pick out a dress for the party,” she muttered as she dropped her iPad and iPhone into her oversized leather purse. But before she could walk out the door, her office phone rang.
“Liza Palmer,” she said.
“Liza, it's Claude Richards. I need your help.”
Dropping her purse on her desk, Liza knew this call from her troubled NBA client meant that dress shopping would have to wait. “What's up, Claude?”
“I'm in trouble,” he said. “There's this woman who says she's having my baby.”
“This is the third time this month.”
“And it's the same girl,” he said. “You have to make her go away.”
“I work in public relations; I don't make people go away. Why don't you talk to this woman? Request a DNA test. But you need to stop treating women as if they are disposable sex toys.”
“It's not my fault,” he said. “These women are after my money.”
“Then why are you letting this happen? Ever heard of saying no?” Liza sighed and silently contemplated giving up her professional athlete clients. “What do you want me to do?”
“Maybe I should just give her what she wants,” he sighed.
“And what would that be?” Liza was now sitting at her desk with her feet propped on the edge. She was going to drop him as a client, for real. The financial hit wouldn't be that bad.
“An engagement ring.”
“Richards! Didn't I tell you to stop coming to me with your relationship problems?! So, this pregnant girl is your girlfriend? What's the problem with committing to her?”
“What about my image and fan base?”
Liza closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. “This is Charlotte, North Carolina. People love a family man. Now, if you want to be a man-whore and build a fan base, get traded to L.A.”
“What are you saying?”
“That playboy stuff doesn't work here. Do you love this woman?”
“She's all right. I mean . . .”
Liza blew into the phone. “Let me get this straight. She's all right but you slept with her without a condom. Did you use your scholarship to learn anything in college?”
“Wow, you're being really mean right now.”
“Richards, grow up. Either you're going to accept responsibility for your child or you're going to be the stereotype of the NBA player who makes babies and runs. Which one do you want to be?”
“So, if I marry her and it doesn't work out . . .”
“Then we can go all Dwayne Wade, show you as a great father and go from there. But you can't allow her to start talking to Media TakeOut, Bossip, and those blogs that will make you look like the biggest jackass in America.”
“I guess you're right, but I think she already went to the blogs.”
Liza shook her head. “Give me her number and you need to call Eli Millou.”
“Who is Eli Millou?”
“Your new best friend, the guy who's going to design the engagement ring that women are going to ooh and ahh over. And, I'm charging you double for this.” Liza hung up on him, then sent him a text with Millou's number before tossing her phone across the room.
She couldn't stand an unfaithful and wishy-washy man. That's one of the reasons why she focused on her career. The other reason: Alvin Thorne. They'd come close to getting married, until she overheard a conversation with him and his lover two days before their wedding. In legendary Liza fashion, she'd called off the wedding and wrote a press release about the end of her relationship and posted it on her blog, which had about a hundred thousand followers at the time.
Alvin, who'd worked as an investment banker for a boutique firm, tried to make it up to Liza after he began losing clients. Of course, she turned him down, and then she became the most famous client of It's Just Lunch, a dating service that paired busy professionals together for lunch dates. While she hadn't made a love connection, she'd helped the company grow because of her blog posts about her dates and her willingness to talk about her love lifeâor more accurately, her lack of one.
While Liza's star rose, Alvin had been branded a cheater and disappeared from the social scene. It was a wonder that she represented someone like Claude Richards. But the money was good, she had to admit.
Was it worth it, though? Maybe that's why she was so excited to help Robert in his effort to do something meaningful. Being the next state senator was important, and Liza was going to do everything in her power to give Robert the image of being the perfect candidate. Picking up her desk phone, she called her best friend and sorority sister, Chante Britt.
“This is Chante.”
“I hate that lawyer voice of yours,” Liza said with a laugh.
“Girl, why are you calling me in the middle of the day?”
“What am I interrupting? Brief writing? A settlement offer because no one wants to face you in court?”
“You're gassing my ego. What do you want?”
“I don't want anything. I just want to make sure that you're coming to my dinner party.”
“Umm, about that . . .”
“Don't you dare cancel on me!”
“Liza, I have work and . . .”
“If you don't come to this dinner party, you're going regret it. And you might even pick up a potential client.”
Chante sighed. “Really, L? You're trying to hook me up with some dude, aren't you?”
Liza laughed as she imagined her friend sitting at her big oak desk dressed in her lawyer gear while throwing a temper tantrum. “Chante, not just
some dude
, but the next state senator for district forty-five. You two will be perfect for each other. I don't know why I didn't hook you two up sooner. Oh, because you're always working.”
“If you're talking about your friend Robert Montgomery, we've met before.”
Liza rolled her eyes. “Yes, you've met him at several professional events, but you've never talked to him on a one-on-one level.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Because you two would be perfect for each other. You're smart and understand this lawyer stuff. You won't be mad when he's late because of a court case. You can unwind with him and quote court cases that he understands. And Robert is pretty fine.”
“Then why haven't you two ever been more than friends?”
Liza snorted. “You know I don't date.”
“And you and Robert never hooked up?”
“Please! He's like a brother to me, and why would I try to hook you with someone I'd been with. Eww!”
“I'm just making sure you're not trying to make some sordid drama for a reality show or something.”
“I hate reality shows and I really try to keep my clients off those things. But that's neither here nor there. Please be nice to Robert. He's going to be a big deal, and if you two hit it off, then I will be friends with one of the biggest power couples in the state.”
Chante sighed again. “Liza, do you ever get tired of playing cupid? You deserve to be happy too, and allowing what happened with busted crotch to cloud your view of love is wrong.”
“Nobody has time for that. I don't work for a huge law firm; I have to build my brand and do it in a way that doesn't put me on front street. After all, I'm not Marie Charles.”
“Who's married and in Paris now. Yep, you are no Marie Charles.”
“Whatever,” Liza said with an eye roll that Chante couldn't see.
“I'm just saying,” Chante said. “And I know you rolled your eyes at me.”
Liza laughed. “Let's meet for coffee so I can go over the details of the dinner party and how you and Robert are going to have coffee and cake afterwards.”
“You're always scheming something!” Chante said with a laugh. “The usual spot?”
“Yes, ma'am. See you in an hour?”
“Make it an hour and a half. I have to file a brief.”
“I'll be waiting, with caramel salted brownies,” Liza said. This time, she grabbed her purse and phone, then went out the door without giving anyone a chance to interrupt her again. Heading to Amelie's, the twenty-four-hour French bakery, where she and Chante often met and planned everything, many times in the middle of the night because of their schedules.
Liza loved the eclectic mix of people who flowed through the bakery at night. The artists and writers enthralled her because they seemed so free. She wanted to offer her services to some of the greats she saw come through those doors. Then there were those she wanted to tell to get a really good day job.
When she arrived at the bakery, Liza wanted nothing more than to sip a chocolate latte and nibble on the renowned sweets Amelie's was known for. But her cell phone rang again. When she saw that it wasn't Chante, all she could do was sigh.
“Liza Palmer.”
“Liza, it's Robert.”
“What's with the new number?” she asked.
“Nic's idea. Look, I want to talk to you about this campaign. I'm thinking that I need some assistance with getting the public on my side.”
“I'm with you! What do you need?”
Robert went on about his need for a Twitter account, a blog, and the crafting of his story.
“I know I probably shouldn't have, but I have a file of all of that stuff.”
“Liza, you are amazing. If you were anyone else, I'd think that file would be a little strange.”
“I wish we were on a recorded line so that I could remind you of that later.”
“I'm near your office. Why don't I stop by and we can get started?”
“I'm not at my office right now. I should be.... Why don't you meet me at Amelie's?”
Liza figured she could kill two birds with one stone: she and Robert could talk business and he could meet Chante before the dinner party. Smiling, she loved it when things fell into place. Walking into the bakery, Liza was glad to see there wasn't a long line for the delectable sweets.
She ordered three brownies and a large coffee, then took a seat near the door so that she could see her friends as they walked in. She pulled out her iPad and opened the file she had on Robert and his social media plan.
He should've just listened to me from the beginning
, she thought with a smile as she sipped her coffee.
“Must be some good reading,” Chante said as she touched Liza's shoulder to get her attention.
Liza's head snapped up and she smiled. “Girl, you know me. Going over a social media plan.”
Chante shook her head and then spotted the brownies. “Aww, you got them,” she said as she crossed over to the table and picked up one of the treats.
“So,” Liza said as she powered her iPad down. “What's new in the legal world?”
Chante rolled her eyes. “I'm sick of doing all of this work to prove to the partners that they need to go ahead and put my name on the door.”
Liza nodded. “Myrick, Lawson, Walker, and Britt sounds good to me.”
“Lawrence Walker's retiring and that's why I'm busting my butt to get this partnership.”
“You're going to get it. You're too brilliant not to.” As she spotted Robert walking through the door she added, “And, I'm going to introduce you to more brilliance.”
Chante followed her friend's gaze. “That's Robert?” she whispered.
Liza nodded as he walked over to them. His smile lit up the room, and she noticed the twinkle in her sorority sister's eyes.
“Hello, ladies. I hope I'm not intruding,” he said, then took a seat beside Chante.
“No, not at all,” Chante said. “I'm guessing this third brownie is for you.” Liza hid her laughter as Chante handed him the plate.
“So, have you two met?” Liza asked as she sipped her coffee.
“Not socially,” Chante said, never taking her eyes off Robert.
He smiled and nibbled his brownie. “Oh, no, Miss Britt, I do remember seeing you briefly at a cocktail party, but before I could make a move toward you, you disappeared.”