Love in Budapest

By Robert Babirad

Sometimes, a shift in direction may be exactly what the heart needs.

New York City attorney Lillianna seems to have it all. Her life is mapped out. Until she is forced to travel across the world to Budapest with no return in the near future or lose her job.

Lillianna is assigned to a special project in her firm’s Budapest office where she is responsible for completing a brief that will be submitted to the European Court of Justice—a project that requires a familiarity with Budapest for its successful completion. An accidental meeting leads her to a handsome young professor who agrees to help with the research components of the brief. As the duo enjoy Budapest’s rich culture and history, feelings grow and a relationship gradually develops only to be jeopardized when Lillianna is dropped from the project and suddenly called back to New York.

Will Lillianna embrace the new life she has developed in Budapest or return to the comfortable life she’s planned and built in New York?

• Language: English
• Publisher: TouchPoint Romance
• Release date: Jun 8, 2022
• ISBN: 1956851259

Book preview

Chapter 1

A picture containing key Description automatically generated

Still nothing. The phone was quiet, just like her life felt at the moment.

Lillianna tapped her suede boot against the tiled floor impatiently. It wasn’t really traditional courtroom attire but then again, she wasn’t going to be performing today. The partners had told everyone in the firm to keep their phones on. There was going to be a very important meeting scheduled for some time that afternoon that everyone had to attend. There would be no exceptions. However, for now, there was silence.

Lillianna looked around the small unimaginative, white-walled room. She was in the modern back room of the judge’s chamber that most spectators at a courthouse rarely see. It was here that the pretrial negotiations with the judge would take place rather than in the main courtroom. The furnishings were sparse, very standard, and in a word, emotionless. A calendar with pictures of Hawaii on the wall behind the desk seemed to indicate that even the judge had better places to be than here. There were certainly far better places she would rather be on that beautiful late spring day.

She had taken her lunch outside a half hour ago and was basking in the warm sun. Now, she was trapped in that no-windowed room, waiting for her phone to sound. It was just another of a long line of pre-trial conferences that were supposed to make the actual trial—whenever it arrived—flow smoother and easier. However, that rarely seemed to be the end result.

Opposing counsel sat next to her. They had been on a lot of trials together. In the courtroom, they’d tear each other apart and call each other every name in the book. After the proceeding, they’d go out to lunch together, laugh, and drink Manhattans. That’s how it seemed to work. Well, he drank Manhattans, she ordered a Side Car.

The yelling and fighting in the heat of a legal battle were more for the client’s entertainment than any real existing animosity between them. However, she really did hate him when they were in that courtroom in the throes of combat. He had been at the game a long time too, in fact, much longer than Lillianna. He had just told her though, that he would be retiring from the practice in a few weeks and had bought a small vineyard where he was going to make wine on the East End of Long Island. Lillianna could only feel envy. Sometimes she wished that she too could leave the game behind and move on from the world that she had come to feel indifferent and uninspired by.

Her phone suddenly lit up. There was a new message.

The judge hadn’t come back into the room yet. They had put in some requests for the trial and were just waiting for them to be signed off. It wasn’t the final pretrial conference so there was still further room for negotiation if anything else came up.

Lillianna clicked on the message.

Attention Counsel: We will be meeting (namely, those associates receiving this message) this afternoon at 3:30 p.m. in the main conference room of the downtown Manhattan office.

Lillianna looked down at her watch almost absentmindedly. She liked how refined-looking it was with its rose gold numerals and casing, slim wrist band, and tasteful guilloché on the petite knob used to adjust the hour. The complications of that particular model were wonderful in her opinion. It had been worth the rather costly price tag, even in the days of mobile phones. The watch was a welcome addition to her style that always seemed to set a certain tone. It was a tone that emanated elegance, timelessness, and a sense of calm regardless of what room or circumstance she was entering. It was a sort of personal talisman as well, and a constant in an ever-changing world. She had bought it for herself as a gift after finally achieving a certain modicum of success in the brutal, New York legal environment. Suddenly though, she looked down at the face of the watch again, but this time more closely. It was already 3 p.m.!

How am I supposed to get from Brooklyn to Manhattan in under thirty minutes? she thought, panic building in the pit of her stomach. It definitely wasn’t indigestion from the sushi restaurant where she had ordered lunch from earlier. No, the feeling of uncomfortableness was directly correlated with the tongue lashing that she knew would be on hand and delivered directly by the partners if she arrived late in Manhattan.

She couldn’t leave until the judge came back with the documents signed. It seemed as though her mind was being read when the judge’s secretary suddenly appeared. The secretary handed Lillianna and the opposing counsel the documents that they had been waiting for all that time. Lillianna thanked her and let the opposing counsel know that she looked forward to winning in court against him in the very near future.

He laughed. We’ve got more of these damned pre-trial conferences to get through first, before we can battle it out again, my friend.

Lillianna grinned and took a deeply stressed wheeze of a breath. Well, I’ve got to get back to Manhattan, see you soon. She grabbed her rolling bag by the handle and hurried out of the room.

Lilianna flew down the long passageway with its fluorescent lights and offices and then through the door that led into the courtroom, which was behind the judge’s bench.

The judge would put on the black robe moments before going back into court and enter and exit through the same door in procession, as the bailiff would simultaneously say, All rise. Today, however, the courtroom was completely empty and she was in a hurry.

She raced through the theater of the grand, old courtroom where all of the dramas were played out daily. She passed the two huge counsel tables in the center of the well and the empty juror box. A thought streamed through her rushing mind of how exciting it was the first time she sat as an attorney at one of those tables. Unfortunately, she no longer felt the same way.

Continuing to hurry, she passed out of the well via a small swinging gate, alongside the vacant benches where the spectators at the trial and other interested parties normally sat. Just ahead were two massive floor-to-ceiling, heavy wood doors that lead out into the main second-floor hallway, which was lined with courtrooms. She dashed through them.

The partners were known for being unpleasant, especially if you were late and they had to miss their golf or tennis game. However, it was looking to be unavoidable today no matter how fast she ran.

Lillianna hurried out the front doors of the courthouse and down the tremendous flight of stone steps, which were like a grand skirt from the tapered top and then widening down to a massive plaza.

It wasn’t easy trying to run in suede boots while at the same time hauling a rolling bag in her right hand.

She jerked on the handle, locking it back into place as it started to pop open again, and released the bag as she hurried down.

Pulling the bag down the steps, she took a quick look behind her. These older court buildings do look impressive though, she thought briefly, looking back to make sure that her papers didn’t drop out of her bag as she then hurried through the crowded plaza.

The old four-story building looked regal behind her and was framed with its six ionic columns with matching scrolls on each of them at their summit. It had a classical public building design similar to that of the White House in Washington. However, here in New York, there was also a skyline of modern-day skyscrapers framing and sitting directly behind the older structure. A grand cupola rose from the highest point with a statue of Lady Justice at its peak.

Lillianna rushed past the black central fountain in the plaza encircled by an iron railing and the old-fashioned double lantern black light posts.

Arriving at Brooklyn’s Borough Hall / Court Street Subway Station, Lillianna groaned at the masses of people there already. She feared how long it would take to be able to get on a subway that would actually have room. The mark for the station itself was that of a squared-off pocket in the center of a spacious and wide sidewalk. It was delineated by green railings and a black and white sign with the Numbers 2 and 3 Trains listed in white on a red circle. Everyone was hurrying down the steep stairs that lead sharply down from the sidewalk and into the bowels of the earth where the trains were.

Lillianna moved through the turnstile, swiping her Metro Card, and raced to the platform for the Number 3 Train to Manhattan. Standing on the edge of the platform in a throng of people, she felt the suspense that there always seemed to be without fail during those moments. There was a sense of never exactly knowing when that silver subway train would come speeding in unexpectedly from the dark cavern, which lay in the distance. The world of the subways seemed to be one unto itself. Lillianna looked around at the dirty, school cafeteria-style tiled walls and took in the assortment of smells that filled the subterranean cavern. Everyone was vying for a position on the platform. No one wanted to have to wait for another train. Of course, there was also the added mystery of not knowing whether the place that you had positioned yourself in would be the actual place where a set of the train’s doors would eventually open. There were other times when you would be in the correct place, but the doors would open to a teeming mob of people, some standing, some sitting, but all letting you know firmly that you were not going to be boarding that particular car because they’d gotten theirs and you could wait.

However, it seemed as though luck was in her favor that day. There was a sudden whoosh and then the front light of the train appeared. Inside the train, there were dim fluorescent-lighted compartments with hordes of strangers peering out. Some of these individuals were seemingly annoyed that the train was stopping yet again to pick up new people. Other passengers were obviously thankful, from the relieved look on their faces, that they had reached their final stop and were now anxious to get off. As the train rapidly approached, everyone started moving closer and closer to the yellow line that marked the edge of the platform. No one wanted to fall off into the chasm below, but no one wanted to lose their chance to be the first to board and secure their place either. The doors opened rapidly.

Lillianna made an effort to push through the mob on the edge of the platform. All that she could see ahead was a sea of anonymous faces, hands, bags, and clothes as she pushed through to secure a small space to stand inside the train. Lilianna reached up amidst a clamor of other hands to grab onto one of the stark central poles that people standing had to hold onto before the train started moving again. She had to fight to secure a small space to position her rolling bag as well and received an angry look from a stranger whose shoes it had accidentally grazed while she maneuvered it into a tiny bit of room.

She was definitely going to be late. There was no question about that.

It seemed like she always had to live life in a rush in the city or to be working to please someone else or to make another person happy. It was tiring and with each passing year, grated upon her nerves more.

The Wall Street Station was announced and Lillianna alighted from the train with the crowds of people. Hurrying through the station, she climbed another set of steep stairs into the daylight. She felt as though she spent so much time going up and down these stairs in the city. It was made even more difficult by having to haul a large rolling bag behind her. It still felt strange though, to come up from the subway into the light and to see all of the skyscrapers that suddenly surrounded her, seemingly out of nowhere when she reached street level.

She hurried along Wall Street and finally arrived at her building. It was well past three-thirty.

Oh well, what can I do?

Lillianna climbed the steps and through what looked like gold-plated revolving doors with an art deco design above them that reached skyward just like the limestone exterior of the skyscraper itself. The building was classic art deco like many others in the city and had over forty elevators within it.

She arrived at an elevator bank and pressed the button for the next one going up. Inside, she selected the forty-ninth floor, once again struggling to find a place for her rolling bag amidst the crowds of people that were jam-packed into the carriage.

The law firm shared space in the building with a prominent national bank. It made sense considering what the rent was, even shared among various lucrative businesses. The executive conference room was a vast, blue-carpeted space with floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a view of Battery Park, the southern tip of Manhattan Island, and if you looked closely, the Statue of Liberty in the distance. However, there would be no time for thinking about sightseeing or nice views today. The meeting had already begun with a group of stone-faced attorneys talking around the central redwood table that filled up the middle of the room. One of the partners, a middle-aged woman at the head of the table with her back to the glass panoramic windows behind her, noticed Lillianna trying to sneak in as quietly as possible through the huge wooden double doors.

It’s nice of you to decide to join us Lillianna, she called out.

I’m sorry. Lillianna moved closer to one of the still-vacant club chairs at the far end of the table away from the partner. It took forever to get here from Brooklyn.

The partner glared and then seemingly dismissed her as she returned to the conversation at hand. As you all know, the practice of law is changing. She leaned back in her chair. It wasn’t just any chair, but rather one with a prominent high back that was just a bit higher than any of the others around the conference table and ever so slightly elevated. It enabled her to take an eagle’s eye view out over the room and at each of the attorneys gathered before her. The other attorneys at the table nodded in agreement and some pretended to write on their legal pads in an effort to show their complete allegiance to the partners and the discussion.

We are going to be reducing some of the lawyers that we have here in the New York office to minimize costs. It’s just the way that it has to be.

A few of the attorneys looked up at her, startled at the news.

She continued in a cold, emotionless voice. That being said, those of you who have been asked to come here today are rather lucky as it turns out.

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. You have all exceeded your required billable hours consistently and we have all decided at the firm, frankly, that you’re bringing us in too much money at the moment for us to let you go. Therefore, in a sense, you’ve been spared.

Two of the attorneys closest to the partner attempted a chuckle to show some sort of goodwill, but the partner didn’t laugh and remained stoic as she went on with what she had to say.

However, there will be changes.

She looked at Lillianna who sat at the far end of the table trying to make herself scarce from the piercing gaze of the partner.

A list of changes was rattled off by the senior partner and her two other junior partners. They were unflinching.

The attorneys were being moved to other departments in the firm outside of their traditional area of practice or to other offices throughout the United States. There were heavy sighs and groans, but no one dared utter a word in opposition to any of the sudden changes being issued forth.

Finally, she circled back to Lillianna. The partner focused on her and now, there was no hiding. Lillianna, as you know we have a very successful office in Budapest.

Budapest? What does that have to do with me?

Some of our lead attorneys there are working on some rather large cases with the European Union. There’s a lot of business there and a lot of money to be made. This is especially the case with all of the private litigation now for competition law infringements that are opening up. They asked if we could send someone from the New York Office to assist.

Lillianna looked at the partner not knowing what was coming next.

We have collectively agreed that you would be our best attorney to send over there to work with them for an indefinite period of time, confirmed the partner.

What? They’re just going to send me to Budapest without me having any say in the matter? I’ve never been to Budapest. I don’t know anyone there. How the heck did they choose me for this assignment?

She dug deep for the strength to speak up in that cavernous and now-silent office. She had to somehow fight it. I . . . I don’t want to go to Budapest right now, she said to the partner.

She thought of her boyfriend and the promising relationship that she had in New York. She thought of the new condo that she had just purchased too, right in Manhattan and close to her work at the firm. Life was just starting to come together. It wasn’t the time for a long-distance move of unknown duration to the other side of the world.

The partner glared at her fiercely, her authority challenged. She never lost in court and she wasn’t about to lose now in her own boardroom.

Chapter 2

A picture containing key Description automatically generated

It’s just that I have a lot invested here in this city right now. Lillianna tried to keep her voice as calm and level-headed as possible.

The partner was unflinching. Her eyes remained cold, icy, and intently focused on the young associate. We all have a lot invested in places and people in our lives, Lillianna. But sometimes, stock prices drop, and we have to pull out of an investment. Sometimes you have to invest in someone and somewhere else.

The comment felt pregnant with dangerous meaning as Lillianna considered the twofold meaning of what the partner may have just said.

Someone else? Lillianna questioned with a hint of annoyance in her voice now.

The partner stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and looked out toward Battery Park and the water. She then strode to the open area to the right of the conference table.

Lillianna, do you know how many hungry law students there are out there who would kill to be in your position?

Of course.

It was obviously a rhetorical question and the partner, clearly not looking for a response, ignored her and continued.

"We get thousands of resumes. Thousands! Do you understand that Lillianna? Thousands of resumes from hungry, young, desperate, pathetic graduates who can’t find shit when they finish law school, much less a six-figure job at a top private New York law firm. They’ll sell their souls just to