I took a minute to pull myself together and then buzzed Amy. She opened the door a few seconds later, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“You heard?”
She nodded.
“What happened? Is it something to do with Alex?”
“In a way. It’s a long story. I’m not completely sure how things are going to shake out for me yet, but I’ll be leaving here immediately. You need to think about your own situation. I’d love it if you came with me, but I understand completely if you’d rather explore other options. You know what kind of reference I’ll give you. It’s your decision.”
“‘If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small,’” she said, attempting a smile. “Proverbs. I’ll stay with you.”
“Thanks,” I said, touched by her loyalty. “I appreciate the confidence. How quick do you think we can get some cardboard boxes up here?”
“The warehouse just dropped off a stack. I was getting ready to purge files. You want help assembling them?”
“I think I can handle it. I’d prefer it if you lined up a moving company and began investigating short-term space. With a premium on speed, please. I’m as anxious for me to get gone at this point as Walter is.”
The packing kept me busy well past lunch, in part because I’d been overoptimistic about my ability to assemble the origami-like boxes, and in part because everyone I knew was calling in to find out what had happened between me and Walter. I solved the box problem by asking Amy for a tutorial after mangling a few, and the other by simply telling everyone it had been personal. To the handful of clients who pushed harder, I let slip that Walter and I had fallen out over Alex, assuming it would get around the market quickly enough. It was the least damaging version of events I could circulate, and it had the advantage of being true.
Amy buzzed for the umpteenth time shortly after two. I left off wrapping a bunch of old deal mementos and punched the flashing line on my phone.
“Mark Wallace.”
“I was disappointed not to hear from you this morning.”
I recognized the voice immediately. Narimanov.
“It’s been a difficult twenty-four hours.”
“I read about Alex Coleman. You were close?”
“Very.”
“I’m sorry. I was going to suggest we get together to discuss my offer further, but we can put if off if you like.”
I wasn’t much in the mood for business, but my circumstances made it stupid to discourage him.
“Get together when?”
“Three o’clock? My flat at the Time Warner Center?”
I double-checked my watch. I’d still have plenty of time before meeting Claire.
“Three o’clock works fine.”
“Enter on Fifty-eighth Street. The doorman will direct you.”
“I look forward to it.”