The Family Man Part 24

"And then?"

She smiles. "Meaning, was I out gallivanting? Not really. I was invited out for a drink by some people who saw Leif led away in cuffs."

"Men people?"

"Tourists. Very nice. From Amsterdam. Two brothers. Spoke excellent English." She pats Henry's hand. "Now give Toddy a call and entertain him with the latest scandale. He'll be so happy."

"He'll be outraged. He's very devoted to you," Henry says.

Thalia reaches across the island to pinch Henry's cheek. "Translation: He's very devoted to you."

"He brought me home to meet his mother. Now she wants to meet you."

"His mother! How adorable. Did she love you?"

Henry's face reddens. "She's only met me once. I'm thinking of getting everyone together for a brunch on Sunday."

"Is he her only child?"

"Correct."

"So I could be something like a surrogate granddaughter-in-law. I can do that." She twists her wrist in the air. "I'm very versatile, wouldn't you agree?"

Unbelievably versatile, he thinks. And popular: My daughter the crowd pleaser. "Were the photographers still here when you got back?" he asks.

Thalia does deep deliberation, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "Why, yes. I believe those two gentlemen I had s.e.x with on the stoop were photographers. I made sure they got my name this time, and my best side." She fakes a yawn that grows into a stage-worthy stretch. "Ciao, darling. Must get my beauty rest now."

"In other words?"

"Stop your worrying," she says.

26. A Pledge to That Effect.

"HE CAME TO APOLOGIZE," Thalia tells Henry. "You could be a little more gracious. It's not like he can unring the bell."

Henry gets up from the leather couch where all three had been sitting abreast and stands before the fireplace. After rearranging a line of miniature Union soldiers, alternating the kneeling and the standing ones, he turns around. "We're nine days into this campaign, and what do you think you've accomplished?"

When Thalia opens her mouth, Henry says, "Let him."

Leif says, "The photos of me in the papers. That's been good."

"Good? Movie stills of you as a ghoul don't exactly say 'leading man,' do they? Isn't that the point? To stop typecasting you?"

"There's time," says Thalia.

"They're supposed to have a new headshot of me on file, but they seem to like the old ones better," Leif says.

"I don't think it's a matter of like" says Thalia. "I think it sells more newspapers to run a picture of you as a zombie ax murderer."

Leif runs the palm of his hand across the top of his head. "Do you think this was a mistake?"

"Whose idea was it?" Henry asks.

"The barber's. My hairline is receding"-he lowers his head to show the pattern-"and what's coming in is too gray."

"Too gray for what?" Henry asks.

"For a guy with my coloring, he thinks."

Thalia says, "In general, I think white guys shouldn't shave their heads. It ends up being too pale and drastic. How do you feel about it?"

"I think I look ugly," Leif says.

"Hair grows back," Henry says impatiently. "You can wear a baseball cap for a week, then reappear with a stubble."

Leif says, "I can't just get a baseball cap off the rack. My head's too big. I have to get them online. Bigdome dot com."

Thalia says, "I had no idea."

"I'm in the ninety-ninth percentile for head circ.u.mference," Leif says. He smiles proudly. "My mother always used to say it was because my skull was full of brains."

Thalia says, "If you don't like the gray hair that's coming in, there are really good colorists at my salon. And they'll do it upstairs so you're not on public display."

Henry says, "I don't know how many women you interviewed for this job, but I hope you realize that you won the lottery. Thalia seems to have some kind of missionary zeal to help you in the areas that need work."

"He means the stuff we practiced," says Thalia.

"We role-played," says Leif.

"He was Leif and I was me," says Thalia.

"I'd like to have a meeting with your people," says Henry. "Especially the new lawyer. Was she the one who represented you in night court?"

"He," says Leif. "The new lawyer's a guy."

"None of us was expecting this to take a turn for the criminal," says Henry.

"It was only a misdemeanor," Leif says.

"A criminal conviction nonetheless."

"Are you backing out?" Leif asks.

"No, he's not," says Thalia.

"I'm sorry about the turnstile," says Leif. "It just happened. It was an impulse, like when you walk by the Bing cherries in a supermarket and suddenly you've got a handful in your mouth." As he speaks, he is probing his inner thigh with the fingertips of his right hand.

"He pulled a groin muscle going over," Thalia explains.

Henry sizes up Seth Shapiro immediately-young, fresh from the gym, his dark hair gelled, a kiwi green tie-as starstruck and too young to be a partner. Clearly he is borrowing both a secretary and this office, with its bird's-eye maple paneling and its view of the Morgan Library. The nameplate on the desk says Alfred J. Ingle Jr., and a galaxy of framed photos show African American sons and daughters, capped and gowned. Henry, Leif, and Thalia sit in plaid wing chairs.

"How are we doing this morning?" young Mr. Shapiro asks, pen poised above a yellow legal pad. Thalia is wearing what can only be viewed as a costume, a coral gingham Williebelle frock with a square neckline and full skirt. It doesn't quite fit, Henry notes-roomy in the bust, and she's faked an alteration with safety pins.

Attorney Shapiro says, "I spoke with my colleague who drew up the contract, and she and I agree that our client's little excitement is very much in line with the goal of our campaign, which is, first and foremost, to raise Mr. Dumont's profile." To the right of the desk blotter are the relevant tabloids. He holds up the Post first and says proudly, "Page Six, no less: 'Boo Busted!'"

"It says 'Boo- Who Busted,'" says Leif. "I hated that."

"Poetic license. Not our province," snaps Shapiro, who moves on to the Village Voice's "un-Fare!" and the Daily News's "Two-Buck Duck."

Leif tells Henry, "That's because a subway ride costs two dollars."

"I taught him that," says Thalia.

"So why are we here this morning, other than the pleasure of meeting you and your client?" asks Attorney Shapiro. He smiles. Henry glances to his left to see if Thalia is smiling back. She is-eyes lowered, ingenue-demure.

Henry opens the briefcase at his feet and takes out a sheet of paper. "I think this answers your question."

Attorney Shapiro reads the paragraph, hands the paper back to Henry, and says, "No way."

"What does it say?" asks Leif.

"Essentially, that if you engage in any half-brained and/or illegal activities in Thalia's company, you will pay her one million dollars in damages."

"I won't," says Leif.

"Won't what?" asks his attorney.

"I won't break any more laws."

Seth Shapiro stands, picks up his legal pad, and asks if his guests will excuse him and his client.

"Are we leaving?" Leif asks.

"We're caucusing. And not for long."

After the door closes behind them, Henry says, "He's admitted that he broke the law on an uncontrollable impulse. His next urge could be to steal someone's car with a baby in the back, and you're nabbed as an accessory."

She whispers, "Are we negotiating? I mean, are we trying for a half-million dollars in case of an arrest?"

Henry shakes his head no.

"You're serious?" She takes the piece of paper. "A million if he jumps another turnstile? Whose pocket does that come out of?"

"No one's, because it won't get to that point. He'll think d.a.m.ned hard before doing something stupid."

"Then why not just a pledge that says he won't do anything stupid or illegal?"

Henry puts his finger to his lips. "Let's see what the other side has to say."

Thalia asks if he wants to share a croissant. While she is en route to the sideboard, the men knock and reenter. Henry watches Seth Shapiro watching Thalia, who is taking her time rather prettily, head c.o.c.ked in croissant contemplation.

"Thalia?" Henry prompts.

"I'm trying to figure out if there's an almond one in here without actually touching them," she answers.

"I can ask my secretary," offers Shapiro.

"Don't bother," says Thalia. She takes the topmost croissant, breaks it in half over a paper plate, doesn't announce its flavor. "It's fine." She smiles.

Is she flirting with opposing counsel? Henry wonders. And is this tall, dark, handsome, and unmistakably straight a.s.sociate flirting back?

"Please sit down," Henry says. "Let's not drag this out any longer than necessary."

"Sorry!"

When she's back in her seat, petticoated skirt billowing in every direction, Attorney Shapiro folds his hands on the blotter. "We propose-and this is beyond fair-that if my client is convicted of a felony and incarcerated, Miss Archer can be relieved of her contractual duties."

"A felony?" Henry says. "I'm hardly worried about felonies"

"We're not giving you misdemeanors, period. Your client could incite him to smoke a joint or jaywalk, and she'd have effectively written herself a check."

"Except that I wouldn't do that," says Thalia.

"I want her protected," says Henry. "I want a driver who doesn't disappear at midnight. I don't want any shenanigans committed in the name of publicity. I don't want her name dragged through the mud because your client sets a match to his shoe or marches naked down Fifth Avenue."

Thalia laughs.

"I said I was sorry, and that I wouldn't do it again," says Leif. "I'm not a crazy man. I have my own production company."

"And he'll sign a pledge to that effect," says Mr. Shapiro. "Today. Before he leaves."

Thalia taps Leif's arm. "What if you broke the law again, even if you didn't mean to? My attorney isn't going to be happy unless you promise something in return."

Leif closes his eyes and keeps them shut as he says, "Caitlin knows I went to jail. She has a zero-tolerance policy, but she's giving me one more chance. If I blow it, it's over."

"Who's Caitlin?" asks Shapiro.

"His off-the-record girlfriend," says Thalia. "The love of his life. They're waiting until she's eighteen to go public."

"Where does this leave my client?" asks Henry.

"Safe and sound," says Shapiro, "which I know was at the heart of your codicil."