James
I’ve missed a few of our evening cuddles on the couch. Four in a row, to be precise. I knew she’d be upset with me, but I was hoping Sophia would be angry.
Instead, she’s sad. That I can’t take. Her tired, upset voice on the other line when I told her I was going to be late once again tonight was a flame held to my heart.
I can’t help it. First it was Brazil, and now I’m in full-blown damage control after our top competitor, Lariat Systems, filed a lawsuit saying we stole intellectual property.
The whole suit is just meant to be barbed wire. To tangle up our newest product in the legal system. We’ll win the suit. We didn’t steal the shit that Lariat sells.
But their goal is to slow us down, and that’s exactly what they’ll do.
I’ve been rageful the past few weeks. I want to schedule a meeting in Cairo with the CEO of Lariat and feed him to a crocodile. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that my bond-villain moment was a one-off in my life. It wouldn’t be happening again.
Unless someone introduced saltwater crocodiles into the Hudson… It would take money, sure. Connections. I’ve got those.
But think , . They’d freeze in the winter. Then again maybe not.
They’re clever. They’d retreat to the sewers like the old urban legends.
Listen to yourself. My mind is trashed and scattered. In fact, rageful isn’t quite right. This train of thought makes me realize I’m feeling somewhat insane today.
I need eight hours of sleep and a day in bed with Sophia.
No more crocodiles, unfortunately. I have to go back to shooting people like a regular Joe Blow.
Speaking of that… The Society decided not to suspend me. In fact, despite Cody’s most fervent protests, I’m up for election to the board.
Apparently, most members thought it was genius of me to shoot one of the burglars in the head. Now no one can accuse me of being in on the heist.
But more than that, there’s the aura of having killed a man that has all these old men looking at me starry-eyed like I’m John Wayne.
Society can pretend otherwise, but we respect lethal men. This fact is apparent when I walk into the club now. The men all nod at me, down to the floor. Little bows. It’s pathetic, but I’ll take what I can on the path to power.
The one hiccup I’m having with my election is that Cody is spreading bullshit rumors that I told Sophia about everything. They want to interview her before there’s a vote, but that is never going to happen.
I’ve already exposed her to this vile world enough. But because of this, we’ve reached a deadlock, and I don’t know what to do because of it.
Usually, I have a plan. I have recourse. But I’m out of options. Sophia will not be speaking to these reptilians. End of story.
But as much as I despise them, I won’t forfeit my chance to lead them. It’s that or be led by them during my climb to the mountaintop.
Tonight, I’m hardly present at my business dinner. Not once, but twice, someone has to say my name to get my attention. I even walk over to the bar on the other side of the restaurant and have a double of scotch to try and quell my nerves.
It’s Sophia’s voice I can’t get out of my head. Sorrow. Disappointment. But the worst part was that in her inflection, there was a hint of expectation. Four days in a row. She knew it was coming, but it still hurt.
How much longer can I keep doing this? I just need to kill this lawsuit. Get the votes from The Society, and we’ll have our evening hour on the couch and night having sex in bed.
But I don’t know how to do either of those things quickly. And even when I do win, I’ve been in this game long enough to know that two completely unique, yet just as difficult problems, will no doubt arise. And I’ll be back to this game of whack-a-mole.
It's like gardening. Pulling weeds. Killing beetles. Watering. The second you let a business go unchecked for a moment, some new issue pops up. But unlike gardeners, I don’t get the winter off. “This isn’t ever going to end,” I say aloud and drink my scotch.
I have to find more time for Sophia. I could give Mark, my VP of Accounts, more authority. Let him act a little on my behalf.
Hell, my company only has me as a CEO. We don’t have a president. I could create a new position and promote Stephanie Warner to Mark’s old position and Mark to president.
There we go. I always find a solution. This one just requires me to let go of a little control. Something I can do happily if it means keeping Sophia.
I should plan something nice for her. A getaway to mark another fresh start. New York has become stale in the grayness of early spring and the monotony of work.
It’s an ugly season. It’s all dead trees and the appearance of trash that was hidden in snowbanks.
I go back to the table refreshed and turn on the charm and wit. I quickly have everybody laughing. It’s not the scotch. It’s the fact that I’m thinking about Sophia. She’s alone. Disappointed and perhaps contemplating the worth of this relationship.
But she has no idea that when I walk through the door tonight, I’m going to lift her into my arms and promise her that we’re spending a week together soon.
I’ll get her laughing, too. I’ll have her cheeks burning and head lowered towards her stomach as she belly-laughs.
When dinner is over, I almost tell my driver to step on it. I’m that excited to rid the haze of the last couple days and make Sophia beam.
I get home to a quiet apartment. I check my watch. It’s only nine. Steve comes trotting up to me from the kitchen. I drop to a crouch to give him some scratches.
The cat has grown to like me, but he doesn’t usually come trotting to say hello. Maybe something is wrong.
I stand quickly.
Sophia never texted me that she was going out. Even if she was upset, she’d always let me know where she was going. I try to see if her shoes are here. But there’s too damn many on the rack by the door for me to figure that out.
“Sophia?” I say with some volume and listen for a response. None comes. This place is big, sure, but the mostly open floor plan makes sound travel well. And she sticks to only a few rooms. Unless she is in a bathroom with a shower running, I’m fairly certain she’d hear me.
I start to walk faster. I check the living room. Race past the dining room and throw open the bedroom door.
Sophia is in bed. The reading lamp is on, but her eyes are closed. A book lies open where it fell on her neck.
Her chest rises softly with each sleeping breath. I walk over to her and gently move the book and pull the covers up around her. She stirs ever so slightly as I kiss her gently on the forehead.
“I’m going to get you excited again, snowflake. Tomorrow.” I whisper my promise and stroke her hair just once. Then I turn off the light and go back towards the hall. But I pause and turn around. I can’t help but watch her sleep for another moment. Another minute.
My own excitement will have to wait.