“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked.
“No,” she said, then lifted the empty shot glass before her and ran her tongue around the inside in hopes of finding a forgotten drop. “He’s leaving. Moving. Transferred.”
“Taylor?”
“No, Jim, the freaking Pope.”
“I hadn’t realized the Pope had joined your firm. He make partner, or just Divine Justice?”
Mallory found that hysterical and her laugh filled the bar, drowning out the latest Yankee report. Spring training was nearing. Several heads turned.
“What do you say we go upstairs to my office? More private there.”
“Look, Meaghan, you’re wrong, Jimmy does invite women up to his place, after all,” she said, again with a drunken laugh.
This encounter was quickly veering off course. Jimmy decided he’d have to wait it out and he could do it be
