35. Connor
“You should go home,” I tell Lisa as I rub my eyes. “It’s late. Go enjoy your weekend.”
She ignores me completely and hands me a piece of paper. “I really think you should consider this angle. It took me a few days to put it all together, but look,” she turns her laptop around and shows me the screen. “We take the Kensingtons to the hockey game next week, so it’s more informal. Then we hit him with Phases A, B, and C. I think that’s what will really drive home this unique vision Craig wants. And we can deliver it.”
“We can do this?” I ask after reviewing the rundown she prepared.
She nods. “I already ran it through accounting and legal.”
An invigorating second wind blows through me. “Holy shit, that could do it. That could seal the deal. You’re a genius!”
“I definitely am, but I can’t take full credit,” she says. “I did the heavy lifting, but your girl gave me the hockey idea before she left on Monday. Apparently, she went to school with Lee.”
“Wait, Jess knows the Kensingtons?”
Lisa nodded. “Said they’re a nice family, super into the Avalanche and not so into boardrooms.”
My mouth curves up into the first full smile I’ve had in days.
“She’s quite the catch, I hope you’re not?—”
Oh fuck.“What time is it?” I interrupt.
Lisa checks her smart watch. “8:23.”
“Dammit!” My outburst causes her to tilt her head and knit her brows. “Jess’ presentation,” I say, half to her and half to myself. “They’re featuring one of her films and I said I would be there. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!” I can’t decide whether to shove everything into my messenger bag and run out of the office or just leave everything and run out of the office. Meanwhile, my usually calm assistant’s demeanor suddenly shifts.
“Holy shit, when was it starting?” she shoots to her feet.
“I don’t know, like 6:00 I think?”
“6:00? Why didn’t you tell me about this? I would have put it on your calendar!”
“I don’t know why, I just forgot!” My phone is to my ear and I’m already listening to Jess’ line ring with no answer.
“Hi! You’ve reached my voicemail, sorry I missed you! If you?—”
“Goddammit!” I disconnect the call and desperately send off a text.
Connor:
Jess, I am so so sorry. I got stuck at work and feel absolutely horrible. I can’t believe I missed your big night. Are you still there?
I tried calling again but you’re not answering, are you at the presentation? Did I miss it yet?
On my way, ETA 20 min.
I start haphazardly shoveling papers and my laptop into my bag. When my phone alerts me to an incoming text, I blow out about twelve tons of air in relief that she’s still speaking to me.
Chris:
Show’s over, we’re out for ice cream. Just go home, man.
And just like that, my insides twist into knots again. I drop into my chair, my bag still over my shoulder.
“Are you feeling okay?” Lisa asks, panic in her voice. “Do you need some ice water?”
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” I assure her. But even though I’m not dealing with a migraine, I am definitely not okay.
“Did you miss the whole thing?” she ventures.
I nod.
“Shit. I’m sorry, boss.”
I stare at my brother’s words on the screen. Just go home, man. “No, it’s not your fault,” I weakly offer her.
Connor:
I feel like the worst kind of asshole right now. How mad is she? Is she okay?
Chris:
She’s great.
Chris is many things but succinct is seldom one of them. I can feel his disappointment through the phone, and what’s worse is that I know he’s right.
A whoosh sound makes me open my eyes to see he’s sent me a picture of Jess smiling and sharing a cup of ice cream with Scott’s daughters, who are both in her lap. I even spot my dad in the background.
They were all there for her. Two entire families showed up and you, her boyfriend, didn’t even remember. Everyone was worried this would happen…apparently they were right.
“She looks happy.” Lisa’s peering over my shoulder. “I’d capitalize on that. Want me to send flowers?”
I click my phone off and chuck it on my desk. “She told me last week she was afraid I’d forget about her when I came back to work,” I utter quietly. “I’m gonna need a whole hell of a lot more than just flowers.”
Her silence seems to agree with me when I remember an email I’d gotten yesterday and set aside. An email from Legal. I grab my phone back and scroll through to find it.
To: Connor Price
From:Abigail Featherington
Hi, Connor,
Per your request, I have reached out to an associate of mine from law school, Ken Marcus III. He’s been a practicing estate lawyer for the last 20 years and is happy to speak with your girlfriend about her ex-husband disputing the will. His contact info is below, along with his retainer fee and hourly rates. Let me know if you have questions.
I glance over the fees but it’s perfunctory. Whatever they are, I’ll pay them. Roses won’t do much for me here, but that $80,000 she’s supposed to inherit might.
“Go on and head home, Lisa. Thanks for staying so late again.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve got a solid plan here. In fact, you know what? I’ll walk out with you.” Lisa probably doesn’t want to leave me here alone anyway, but that’s okay; I can easily get everything arranged from home. After trying to call Jess four more times and sending another ten unanswered text messages, I email Ken Marcus III and hope he keeps weekend hours. I eat dinner, clean up the dishes, and try my luck with my girlfriend a final time.
Connor:
I know you’re mad at me right now and I know there’s not much I can do to make it up to you but I’m going to try.
Still nothing.
Connor:
So I’m going to start by getting that money for you. I’ve already reached out to a trusted estate attorney and given him Alex’s legal team to dispute the…well, the dispute. I’ll cover all the expenses, you won’t have to worry about anything.
Jess:
YOU DID WHAT?!?!