Free The Love Wars by L. Alison Heller

though we still keep close tabs on each other. Soon after switching departments, I realized that Kevin somehow possessed a rock-solid understanding of the politics in the matrimonial group.
    “So, is Everett Butt-Munch still giving you a hard time?” I haven’t seen Everett yet tonight and look around to make sure he isn’t in earshot. No, he’s far across the room, deep in conversation with Liam, one of the paralegals. Poor Liam.
    “You were right—Lillian keeps him on a pretty tight leash.”
    Now we both look around, to make sure she’s not in earshot. Kevin nods with his chin. “There she is, by the door.”
    Lillian is talking to Dominic Pizaro, listening intently. They are both miniature—probably about five feet two—but because of the angle at which she’s leaning forward toward him, she appears shorter. Whatever he’s saying must be funny because Lillian keeps laughing and touching his arm.
    Roger stands behind her holding two drinks and staring into space. Poor Roger.
    “Ah, good ol’ kiss up, piss down,” says Kevin.
    “She’s not that bad,” I say. “She just took us all out for drinks.”
    “Whatever,” he says.
    “No, seriously. She’s actually good to work for.” I lower my voice. “Between you and me, I’m kind of thinking that this is where I could be for a while.”
    He looks at me in mock shock. “No more five-year plan?”
    I shake my head. “Nope, I’m thinking long-term.”
    He shakes his head. “I guess that make sense—all the people drama. You like that stuff. Hey—guess how much I billed last month? Really, it’s insane.”
    About twenty Motown hits later, the DJ has worked up to eighties pop and is bopping his head to “Take on Me.” I have checked my inhibitions and am dancing with Rachel, Kevin and some assorted corporate associates.
    The DJ starts playing KC and the Sunshine Band and cranks up the volume so I can barely hear anything else; more people crowd the dance floor. I haven’t noticed any overt displays of inappropriateness so far. Someone must have slipped the DJ some cash to create the perfect environment for the birth of this year’s legend. Who could resist KC and the Sunshine Band? Way to up the ante, Mr. DJ.
    Obviously a little wasted, Rachel and Kevin start bumping hips.
    I turn to Rachel. “I used to go dancing all the time, but now it’s only at weddings. I miss dancing!”
    “What?” She smiles and leans closer.
    I lean in to repeat my brilliant observation.
    As Kevin shimmies over to me, the DJ puts on some Kool and the Gang. I’ve been to enough of these things to recognize that this means the party will end soon.
    I’ve had a genuinely good time tonight—a first for a Bacon Payne party. What’s even more notable, I realize, is that for the past—I don’t even know how long—I’ve actually been in a good mood. I bathe in the great-feeling combination of alcohol and good cheer and feel myself grinning as Kevin twirls me around.
    Finally, finally, finally. My life feels like it’s falling into place: I like what I do. I feel competent, useful. I can’t believe how simple it all was: going to the matrimonial group is the best move I’ve made.

9
    ____
elf
and other tearjerkers
    F or the first time since graduating law school, I have managed to escape Bacon Payne for four full days to spend the holidays with my family. Of course, my parents, the exhausted owners of Cheddar and Better—Hillsborough’s premier kitchen supply and specialty foods shop!—expend so much energy hawking the fantasy of a picture-perfect Christmas dinner for their customers that they have no interest in trying to achieve one themselves. Tomorrow will be as it is every year: the Grant family, clad in pajamas, periodically shuffling from the couch to the table to grab a handful of gourmet caramel butter-crunch popcorn or spread some duck pâté on an artisanal rosemary focaccia crisp. Our dining room already looks like the lobby at the annual convention