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threatened to file suit, was showing weakness. Maybe it was your first lawyer, or maybe it was the fact that you fired him, but somehow you showed them you’re at the mercy of your investors, and of the public perception. What you should have done, from the beginning, was rejected their entire premise that going to court would be a bad thing for you. And that, to answer your original question, is exactly what the fuck I just did in there. But you’re the client, so take it or leave it. The question is, are you as weak as they think you are?”
    He was angry now. “No. I believe in my vision, and I believe in myself. I didn’t get where I am today by backing down.”
    “Exactly. The problem is, you’re now afraid of losing everything you worked so hard for. And that, whether you like it or not, comes across as weakness. You’ve already shown them that you don’t trust me by the way you hurried out to have this very conversation. And that means they’ll wait. They’ll try to sit it out until your lack of faith in your lawyers causes you to fire me and hire someone new. They’ve seen that happen twice already, and they have no reason to expect you to act any differently this time. What they won’t see coming is that this time, you’re going to trust your lawyer and turn the tables on them. You’re going to be the one giving them two losing choices, and resting on your laurels while you wait for them to crack. You could have won this a month ago if you had trusted your counsel then. So today, you’re going to trust me.”
    He put his hands in his pockets and paced around. “They’re waiting in there. What do I say to them?”
    “Nothing. You act like the reason you jumped up to follow me was unrelated. You send Andrea in there with refreshments and have her tell them you’ll see them in court.” He was rubbing his hands together nervously again, so I took hold of one of them. I continued, “And then they’ll realize they’ve royally screwed up, because this time you hired a lawyer who knows how to convince you to trust her.”
    His hand softened, and he held my hands back. “OK. I’ll try it. But I am not letting this go to court. I’m not.”
    “Trust me,” I said. “You won’t have to.”
    “Then I guess the meeting’s over.”
    I touched his shoulder. “And thank god for that.”
    He laughed. “How do you go from so severe to so warm?”
    “Practice,” I said. I almost came out and reassured him that the severe part of me was an act, and the warm part was genuine, but I had a second where I wondered if maybe my own mask had at some point become real, and I was both a severe and warm person. I kind of liked the idea.
    We wandered down the hall, leaving the opposing lawyers in the sphere. Victor pulled out his phone and called Andrea. “Offer them refreshments and thank them for coming,” he told her. “Let them know they can leave whenever they’re ready.” He hung up the phone.
    We wandered past the piano.
    “Listen,” he said. “I’m sorry about last night.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry, too.”
    “I think I wouldn’t have been much fun, anyway. I was too stressed.”
    “You don’t need another reason. The one you had was fine.”
    “You’re right, you know. They’re wearing me down.”
    I threaded my hand through the crook of his elbow. “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me now.” Flirting. Again. In direct opposition to the conversation we were having. I needed to make up my mind about this man one of these days.
    He smiled, but it was strained. “We’ll see.”
    “Still feeling stressed?”
    “You really need to ask? I thought this whole thing was going to be finished today. Now it’s just going to keep on dragging.”
    We stopped in front of a wall of window. The green, fronded tops of palm trees rocked in the breeze at floor level, and beyond them, pale sands shone in the sun and the blue waters slipped up and down the lip of the