The reply takes a minute. I picture him on the other end, in his apartment somewhere, in some dark room, hunched over his own matching little black phone.
Now, we work. There are four windows of opportunity in the next six weeks.
Tomorrow night, there’s a bar association dinner at the Pierre.
Two weeks out: partner retreat upstate. Three nights at a hunting lodge. Lots of trees. Nobody around.
Three weeks from now is the DeMaris wedding. She’s the daughter of a client. Plaza Hotel, black tie. You’ll be there.
And then the final opportunity. If all else fails, we do it the night before the Cayman flight.
My thumb hovers as I chew through the options.
So I assume we start from the beginning?
That’s usually how beginnings work, yes.
I flash a middle finger at my phone. He can’t see i
