Vanessa sighed and turned her attention to the documents, which had to be finished if she wanted to elope. She had a feeling if she didn’t show up at the airport like she was supposed to, Justin would send a platoon of his minions to drag her to wherever he wanted her.
And what a spectacle that would make.
* * *
On Tuesday, she bumped into Bobbie, wife of John Highsmith and a partner in her own right, in the break room. A lot of people underestimated her at first glance because she was petite with soft babyish white-gold hair and a pixie face. Nobody who’d ever faced her in a legal battle thought her small and cute though. She was the kind of lawyer Vanessa wanted to be when she grew up: fierce, respected and smart. Not to mention that Bobbie was a straight shooter and never held a grudge. If she hated you, you knew about it. Vanessa, luckily, was on the “like” side.
“Long time no see,” Vanessa said.
“Yeah.” A bleached smile plumped Bobbie’s rosy cheeks as she poured coffee. “How you doing, Vanessa?”
Other than the stress of elopement and a baby? “Oh, fine.”
“Good. I heard about your new case with Felix. It’s a good one, very important for the firm.”
Too bad the client’s guilty.
Vanessa’s feelings must have shown on her face, because Bobbie gave her a look over the rim of her coffee mug that said I can eat babies for breakfast if it’s billable. “The kind of thing that can get you noticed if you handle it right.”
“I understand. Listen. Um, do you mind if we chat privately?”
The other woman shrugged. “Let’s go to my office.”
Vanessa grabbed her tea and followed Bobbie to her corner office. The place smelled faintly of paper, leather and old coffee. It was one of the three largest ones on the floor, with the great view of downtown L.A. Stacks of papers, accordion files and legal tomes covered her desk and two tables, while the shelves were occupied by neat rows of leather-bound books. On the desk by her small laptop, she kept a small, framed photo of herself, her husband and their son. They were smiling for the camera, and the boy looked happy. Bobbie was the woman who had it all.
Vanessa closed the door, then took a seat across from the partner.
“So, what’s going on?” Bobbie said.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.” Vanessa wrapped her hands around her cup. “Marriage and motherhood as a female lawyer, you know.”
“Are you getting married?” Bobbie’s gaze dropped to Vanessa’s empty finger.
“No, it’s a friend from Stanford.” Vanessa cleared her throat. “But it got me thinking. I’m not getting any younger.”
Bobbie snorted. “Neither is anybody else. Well, what can I tell you? Husbands aren’t too terrible if they understand the demands of our career. So I’d say generally it’s best if you get hitched to another lawyer or someone similar. As for a baby, I suppose it’s doable, but for a brilliant lawyer with a bright career ahead of her, it can be difficult. Babies are more demanding than any client, and you can’t do a damn thing about it. It’s not like you can give them back.”
Vanessa laughed, and Bobbie smiled.
“Unless you find the lawyer work a cakewalk or you feel some kind of unshakable compulsion to have a child…or your man is okay being a house-husband…I generally advise female attorneys not to do it. It can derail your career. And unfair as it is, child-rearing generally falls on the woman. It’s not easy juggling a child and demanding career.”
“But you have a son.”
“What I had was John’s parents. They practically raised the boy. I’m sure you know how it is. You had nannies growing up, didn’t you?”
Vanessa nodded. She and her older brothers had had a series of nannies, most of them young. Her mother hadn’t kept any of them for long, especially when she suspected they might attract Salazar’s attention. Even though Ceinlys knew about his affairs, having it happen under her own roof was just too much.
“They can make things easier. But still, the actual pregnancy and labor and recovery are all on you, and you might resent the fact that the baby’s in the way, or that your career’s keeping you away from your child. It’s not always logical or emotions we’re proud of, but it’s there. It makes things more complex.” Bobbie’s smile turned rueful. “Any of that help?”
“Yes.” Vanessa nodded. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. My door’s always open.”
As Vanessa left though, she couldn’t help but think her situation wouldn’t be the way Bobbie had described. Justin knew how her job was. And the baby could have all the best nannies in the world—there was a lot of Sterling money, and knowing Justin and Barron, she doubted they’d be stingy.