Derrick’s head ping-ponged between Carmen and me, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the sparring we were desperately attempting to conceal as idle chitchat.

That evening I shut down my computer at five thirty, changed into my workout clothes in the bathroom, and ducked into the elevator, praying I could make it out into the lobby without being seen. Even though I’d finished all my work for the day, I still didn’t want anyone thinking I wasn’t working hard—or that I had enough time to be staffed on more real estate deals. The elevator paused on the thirty-fifth floor, and the anxious blonde I’d encountered on the first day of work entered, looking me up and down. To be fair, I did the same to her. She looked pure, somehow younger than the rest of us, with large eyes. She wore no makeup, and her long hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a pearl necklace, pearl earrings, and a neat white cotton cardigan, but when she turned to push the button to her floor, I saw that her black pencil skirt had a long thread hanging down the back like a tail. As she turned to me, we locked eyes.

“Hey,” I said, forcing my voice up an octave.

She stared back at me, looking puzzled. “The employee handbook says we need to wear business casual attire when we’re in the office, meeting clients, or otherwise representing Klasko in an environment where business casual attire is appropriate,” she recited. I examined her expression for any sign of cattiness, but came up empty.

“I know, I’m just running to the gym,” I told her, shrugging. “Sometimes you have to bend a rule to stay sane.”

She nodded, looking serious. “But how do you know which ones you can bend?”

I shrugged again and gave her a friendly good-night wave as the elevator opened to her floor. She exited reluctantly, as though not wanting to let me go until I answered her question.

I made it to my gym’s 6:00 p.m. spin class just as it was starting, throwing my Klasko-branded bag in a locker and slipping onto my bike as the warmup was concluding. When the lights dimmed and the instructor asked us to focus on our breathing, I allowed a smile to spread across my face, a moment of private pride. See? I’m a lawyer. And I have a life.

Q. Miss Vogel? Are you all right?

A. Yes. Yes. Can you please repeat the question?

Q. Had you heard of Gary Kaplan prior to meeting him?

A. I had heard his name, yes.

Q. What did you hear about him? Did you have any impression of him professionally, personally, or any other way before you actually met him?

A. I’m not . . . I don’t recall the specifics of my impression prior to meeting him.

Q. Do you recall the first time you heard the name Gary Kaplan? Do you recall who said it? Do you recall what they said about him?

A. I can’t be certain this was the first time anybody said his name to me, but the first time I recall anybody saying his name was at the beginning of my first year. When one of the real estate partners asked me if I knew who he was, I remember them being shocked that I didn’t because he was such a big name at the firm and in the finance world. But that was definitely the first time I remember hearing Gary Kaplan’s name.

Q. Would you say that you first came to know Gary Kaplan through third-party accounts from the real estate lawyers you mentioned?

A. No, I wouldn’t say that. You asked me the first time I heard Gary Kaplan’s name, so I explained my recollection. I came to know him firsthand soon after that through working with him.

Q. How did you come to know him professionally? Is it common for real estate attorneys on a deal to develop relationships with the M&A folks at private equity firms?

A. I actually don’t know what’s common for them. I would assume sometimes, if real estate is a big enough component of the transaction, then yes.

Q. Let me be more direct: as only a junior associate in the real estate group, how did you come to know Gary Kaplan personally?

A. I only worked briefly in the real estate group before transitioning to working exclusively with the M&A team. Gary was the biggest client of the group.

Q. Who introduced you to Gary Kaplan?

A. Peter Dunn.

Q. Who is Peter Dunn?

Chapter 4

A few days after my early escape from work, I was sitting in Lara’s office, as she debriefed the M&A team that was on the phone about the real estate portion of their deal before the closing. I watched her curiously as she stiffly responded to the rapid-fire questions emanating from the speaker phone from the senior associate on the M&A team, nervously pulling at a strand of her hair. It was odd to see a partner act deferentially to an associate, to somebody her junior.

“Yes. No problem in change of control,” she confirmed. I furrowed my brow, wondering why she wasn’t mentioning the recapture rights I had found in the leases and bolded and underlined in two separate emails I’d sent.

“Good,” said the associate, who’d introduced himself as Jordan Sellar. He then paused as though he was making a note. Should I assume that Lara didn’t think the recapture rights were an issue? Or should I just play it safe and . . .

“Oh, um, hi,” I said. “Sorry. This is Alex. I don’t know if this is relevant, but two of the properties have recapture rights for the landlord. And they actually stipulate that the right remains with a change of control. Sorry. I don’t know if that’s relevant.” I winced as I heard myself repeat the apology.

There was silence on the other end of the line. I cursed myself for thinking I could say anything remotely intelligent aloud in my third week of work.

“Who was that?” Jordan’s voice came through the speaker again.

“Oh, sorry. Alex Vogel. I’m a first-year—”

“That is relevant. We’ll need to get that waived, Lara. Or worst case, we can structure around it.” He sounded unruffled, and I allowed myself to appreciate a small victory in adding value to the call.

“Of course, Jordan. I’ve already begun the process. Was just getting to that. Will keep you posted,” Lara responded quickly. I looked up to see her glowering at me. Should I not have said that? Or waited until Jordan was off the phone to tell her?

When the call ended, Lara took a prolonged inhale. “Alex, when you disagree with somebody here at Klasko, you should do so only within the team.”

“I’m so sorry,” I stammered. “I thought Jordan was on our team.” Should I remind her that I did flag the issue for her? Twice? “It won’t happen again.”

She nodded slowly. “Can you please resend me the information on the properties that have those clauses? I need to make some calls.” She had already turned away from me and back to her computer. Apparently I was dismissed.

I walked back to my office, cringing as I replayed the encounter in my mind.

Anna looked up at me from above the top of her cubicle wall as I came in. “One moment, please. I have Jordan Sellar for you. Would you like to take it or return?”

My breaths grew shallow, but delaying the pain wasn’t going to help. “I’ll take it.” I walked briskly into my office and closed my door, steeling myself for a takedown.

“Hey, Alex. I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. I’m not sure if you’re at all interested in M&A, but I’m getting lunch with another first-year associate next Tuesday to talk about our group. Care to join?”

“Sure!” I was so relieved not to be in trouble that I answered even before checking my calendar. As soon as we hung up, I went to the firm’s internal Facebook and pulled up Jordan’s profile to see the tanned, attractive, dapper young man I’d spotted in the conference room and at the bar on my first day. Jordan Sellar. All-star M&A associate.

*

The nervous blond girl whose name I could never remember sat next to me, in the same white cardigan and black skirt she’d had on last week. I might have broken the dress code, I thought uncharitably, but at least I change my clothes. There was an awkward silence as we scanned the restaurant, willing our food to come. Our waiter approached the table, carrying only two plates. As soon as he placed her Caesar salad in front of her, she picked up her fork and stabbed a crouton, plopping it into her mouth. Jordan watched her carefully, his lips tight but his expression otherwise blank as his steak sat untouched before him.