Rosenthal’s long, skinny face grew longer and skinnier. “Ms. Gunther-Perrin, I very much regret to inform you that only one partnership was available. After consultation with the senior partners, I decided to offer it to Mr. Ogarkov.”

Nicole started to say, Thank you. Her tongue had already slipped between her teeth when the words that he had said – the real words, not the words she had expected and rehearsed for – finally sank in. She stared at him. There he sat, calm, cool, machinelike, prosperous. There was not a word in her anywhere. Not a single word.

“I realize this must be a disappointment for you. ‘ Sheldon Rosenthal had no trouble talking. Why should he? His career, his life, hadn’t just slammed into the side of a mountain and burst into flames. “Do please understand that we are quite satisfied with your performance and happy to retain you in your present salaried position.”

Happy to retain you in your salaried position? Like any attorney with two brain cells to rub against each other, Nicole knew that was one of the all-time great lies, right up there with The check is in the mail and Of course I won’t come in your mouth, darling. If you weren’t on the way up, you were on the way out. She’d thought she was on the way up. Now -

She knew she had to say something. “Could you tell me why you chose Mr. Ogarkov” – formality helped, to some microscopic degree – ”instead of me, so that… so that I’ll be in a better position for the next opportunity?” Rosenthal hadn’t said anything about the next opportunity. She knew what that meant, too. It was written above the gates of hell. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

He coughed once, and then again, as if the first time had taken him by surprise. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to ask that. After a pause that stretched a little longer than it should have, he said, “The senior partners were of the opinion that, with your other skills being more or less equal, Mr. Ogarkov’s very fluent writing style gives the firm an asset we would do well to retain.”