Marian smiled, but the feeling didn’t reach her eyes. “Did that speech work on Ms. McGovern?”
“I’ll admit keeping her calm was more of a challenge than I’d anticipated. I mean, how was I supposed to know that impact investors don’t spout a bunch of touchy-feely jargon but actually believe in fairness and all that shit?” Crossing the room, Laurie stood at her window, overlooking the Boston Harbor, and inhaled a cleansing breath. Not feeling the whoosh of relief she’d hoped for, she tried again. Still no luck. “Apparently, the incident with Ms. Kennedy being let go—without cause, as she insisted on putting it—upset her.”
“Because she was worried about the work she’s done on the proposal remaining confidential?” Marian guessed.
“No. She was worried about me, if you can believe that.”
Laurie wrapped her arms around her body, steeling herself against the memory of some of the more unflattering things Paige McGovern had said to her when they’d met face-to-face in New York the day before. “Apparently, certain elements of my reputation have given her pause, in light of my handling of the situation.”
“In what way?”
“It’s possible she didn’t take kindly to me telling her to stop being a fool about Jack and reminding her that business is business. I don’t know why it surprised me. Impact investing is like the Peace Corps of the financial world, all hand-holding and kumbaya around the campfire.” Laurie swayed her head and wiggled her fingers in a la-di-da motion.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“It’s too early for tea,” Laurie grumbled. “Strictly co ee before noon.”
“Okay. I’m not sure I can make it as well as Jack did, but I can give it a try.”
“No.” Laurie waved the idea aside. The only thing that would make her feel better was to get back to work. Stop fretting about something that couldn’t be changed. The only things she could control were herself and steering this company to greatness. It was what she was born to do. “Let’s get to work.”
“Are you sure that’s what you need?” Instead of jumping at the chance to obey her command, Marian sat down on the couch, beckoning her to do the same. What new mutiny was this?
Laurie made a point of pulling out her desk chair with extra determination before sitting down sti y. There would
be no more pouring out of feelings in this o ce, today or from here on out. “Work is always what I need.”
“Do you want to talk about Jack?”
“I most certainly want no such thing.” Laurie shook her head to reinforce the statement. “Why would I want to do that?”
“It sounds like what Paige had to say upset—”
“I did what had to be done,” Laurie interrupted, her tone stern. “Jack proved herself to be completely irresponsible and untrustworthy.”
“It was merely a binder,” Marian said softly. “And you know Toby is usually blind drunk every night and probably never got past the title page.”
“She fraternized with the enemy.” Laurie flipped her hair.
“Toby’s a lot of things, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to refer to him as the enemy. He’s Bonnie’s son, after all.”
Marian rubbed her chest, but it was di cult to discern the cause for the gesture. Concern for Toby or heartburn?
“I was talking about going to work for Carmen.”
“Which she only did after you fired her.” Marian slanted her head to the side. “I’ve always admired your tenacity when it came to work, and I never thought you were a hard woman like people said. But—”
“Marian.” Laurie made a cutting motion with her hand, slicing it through the air. “I respect you, so I’ll caution you to stop right there.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me, too?” The disapproval in Marian’s eyes cut Laurie to the core, making her shift in her seat as the older woman continued. “Do you know why Jack gave the binder to Toby? She was on the way to the hospital.
Her mother was in the back of an ambulance. All that day, her mother had been calling, telling her she wasn’t feeling well. But because you’d asked her to, Jack continued
working, until her mom was in such dire circumstances she couldn’t ignore it anymore.”
“The hospital? Are you sure?” Laurie sco ed, a curdling sensation taking root in the back of her throat. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that story was entirely a ruse.”
“I thought you’d say that, so I checked around, and a Mrs.
Eileen Kennedy was admitted to St. Bridget’s Hospital early Friday morning.”
“Kennedy’s a common name in this city,” Laurie said, refusing to be wrong about this lest she end up being wrong about other things, too. “The woman may not be Jack’s mom.”
Marian’s pinched expression told her she wasn’t getting away with it. “What would you have done if it’d been someone you loved in trouble? What would you have done if it were Bonnie?”
“While I appreciate this lecture,” Laurie’s tone made it clear how little she actually did, “the fact that Jack accepted a job with Bay State that very afternoon underscores my point that the little she-demon is not as loyal as you think.”
“I take it you haven’t heard the other news.” Marian seemed to relish the prospect of sharing whatever this tidbit happened to be, which made Laurie both nervous and curious.
“I’ve been too busy fixing the mess left behind to be bothered with gossip.” Laurie waited for Marian to continue without being asked, but when the woman remained silent, gloating, she was forced to cave. “Well, what happened? You know you’re dying to tell me.”
“Jack walked out of a meeting with the CEO because Carmen put her on the spot to share intel about Emerson’s Othonos proposal.”
“She quit the same day she started?” Beneath her disbelief, Laurie was tickled by a sense of pride in her former
protégé. Men twice Jack’s age would’ve been envious at the size of that woman’s balls, pulling a stunt like that.
“The way I heard it, she only lasted a little over an hour.
She started her new job at eight in the morning and quit a few minutes after nine. And, this was after you fired her over something so petty.”
“Me?” Laurie splayed her fingers over her racing heart.
“What do I have to do with this? She’d signed a nondisclosure agreement, simple as that.”
“You really think that’s what stopped her? We both know, as scary as they may look, those nondisclosure agreements don’t have many teeth.”
“What, then?” If Laurie had been in Jack’s shoes, she imagined there was nothing she would have enjoyed more than the chance to drive a bus over someone who had fired her. Figuratively speaking, of course.
“Loyalty to you, simple as that. Even after you fired her, Jack wouldn’t betray you.” Marian got to her feet. “So, if you want to sit there and believe what you did was right, without giving Jack the time to defend herself, go ahead.”
“Thank you for the permission.” Laurie added an extra helping of snark because she lacked a proper comeback.
She’d intended for it to be her parting shot, but Marian paused when she reached the door.
“Your denial doesn’t change reality. I know you were wrong. I’m hoping deep down, you do as well.” With that, Marian stomped across the vestibule to her desk, exhibiting anger Laurie had never seen from her loyal assistant before.
Shutting the door was no use. Even if she could no longer see Marian’s face, she couldn’t block her assistant’s words from echoing through her mind. Damn Marian for always being so annoyingly right. After a few hours had passed, she couldn’t pretend to concentrate another minute. Waiting until Marian had left her desk for a co ee break, Laurie
turned o her computer and slipped out of the o ce. It was the first time she’d left in the middle of a workday in her entire adult life. With no place specific in mind, she started walking.
The sun was bright, so intense that, combined with downtown Bosto
n’s perpetual wind, her eyes dripped like a leaky faucet. It was warm enough that several slackers had decided to congregate on a nearby patch of grass for a co ee break. Laurie fought the urge to yell at them for laughing too loudly. Being outside with so many other humans was a total bust. Soon, she found herself on the sidewalk in front of the Irish bar where she and Jack had first met.
As she pushed the door open, Laurie paused, doubting her decision to go inside. Though the business hours on the window indicated they should be open, there were no customers at the bar or the tables, and the lights were dimmed. There was, however, a man behind the bar, and as she drew closer, Laurie recognized him as the same bartender, Mack, who had been there the night of the storm.
Laurie took o her jacket and draped it over one of the barstools. The bartender continued tidying up a box of glasses, not paying her any notice. Laurie sat down and cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”
“We’re not open yet,” he replied without turning around.
“Your sign says eleven o’clock.”
“Which is in ten seconds.” Mack lifted his wrist and started a countdown. “Five, four, three, two, one.” He wheeled about. “What can I get you?”
Laurie was caught o guard by this display, but though at other times she might’ve launched into a lecture about his rudeness, right now she found herself admiring his willingness to play by his own rules. “Gin.”
“Starting with the hard stu ? Are you sure you don’t want to ease into it?” He slid his hand toward the bar as if it
were a plane approaching the runway for a flawless landing.
“Are you sure you’re a bartender?” Laurie challenged. If he was going to play by his own rules, she sure as hell planned to play by hers. “Dingle. And make it snappy.”
Mack put up a meaty paw, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m trying to look out for you, but if you don’t want my professional advice as a bartender, then here you go.” He made a show of pouring a tumbler half full, pulling the bottle up high, so Laurie could see the streaming liquid.
She looked at the glass for a moment, doubting her choice. Alcohol this early in the day wasn’t something she indulged in, and certainly not gin. But she wanted it, needed something to numb the confusion that had been roiling around in her head all morning, ever since she’d found out about Jack quitting her job at Bay State. She reached for the drink—to hell with what anyone else would think if they knew—and took a long pull. “Is the kitchen open? I’d like the nachos.”
“We don’t have nachos on the menu.” He flicked his red suspenders.
“Can’t you make an exception? I’m almost a regular.”
“Lady, I know the regulars. I’ve never seen you before in my life.” But as he said it, Laurie thought she detected a shadow of doubt cross his face.
Reaching into her wallet, Laurie dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. “You remember me now?”
“Oh, hey, it is you.” Mack flashed a toothy grin as he reached for the money. “Didn’t recognize you at first.
Must’ve done something with your hair.”
Laurie pointed to her empty glass and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Mack obliged by refilling the drink, which she knocked back in one go. She set the empty glass on the bar and fixed the bartender with a challenging look. “Hundred bucks says you don’t have a clue who I am.”
“That gin’s going to your head faster than I thought it would if you can’t remember you already gave me a hundred less than a minute ago.”
“I meant another hundred,” Laurie corrected, not sure why, except the idea amused her.
“Night of that big January storm, you were in here getting cozy with that dark-haired Irish lass, Jack. Ordered nachos and a bottle of Dingle to go.”
Something inside her smarted at the mention of Jack’s name, making her flinch. She was drinking to forget about that woman. At least, that was what she’d told herself she was doing, refusing to acknowledge the contradiction of going out of her way to recreate their first date, such as it was. Total coincidence, naturally. Without a word, Laurie put another hundred on the bar.
Mack swiped the bill and added it to his back pocket. “I don’t know who broke your heart, but please pass along my thanks.”
“Why do you think I have a broken heart?”
“Quarter past eleven and you’ve had two shots of gin?”
Mack shrugged, but not unkindly. “Not the first time I’ve seen it. I hope it wasn’t my friend Jack who caused this.”
“She had nothing to do with it, because I don’t have a heart to be broken,” Laurie informed him, ignoring the growing ache in her chest. The burning sensation was simply a side e ect of the gin. Nothing more. “Ask anyone in the financial district, and they’ll tell you Laurie Emerson’s a rare breed.”
“The heartless breed?” Mack filled her glass for the third time, then leaned on his forearms. He had that quintessential look of a bartender getting ready to listen to his customer pour her heart out like he was a priest in a confessional.
Instead of laughing at his earnestness to his face, Laurie found the words bubbling up, pouring from her lips in an unstoppable flow. “They call me Laurie the Hatchet, you know. Like it’s derogatory or something.” She drained half the glass then slowed as the room buzzed around her.
“It isn’t?”
“Not to me. It’s good to have people quaking in their boots. It’s the only way a woman can succeed in business.
Control by fear, or they won’t respect you.” Laurie could hear she’d put entirely too many Ss in the word respect. She tried again, but there was no getting her tongue to cooperate.
Mack arched an eyebrow. “I should get busy on your nachos.”
“And, I should finish this.” At least two of the words came out wrong, but instead of fretting, Laurie raised her glass in salute. “What is it…?” She had to stop and reorder the words in her fuzzy brain. “Irish for cheers?”
“Sláinte,” he answered. “But don’t even try saying it until you’ve had some food in your belly. You’re making a big enough mess out of English.”
Mack took her order to the kitchen. When he returned, he stuck to the other end of the bar, slicing oranges and limes in preparation for the boozy lunch crowd of business people who would soon descend on the place.
Laurie emptied her glass and set it on the bar. “Hey, Mack, I need another.”
“Yes ma’am.”
As she watched the bartender pour another insane amount, her vision blurred so that there sometimes seemed to be two bartenders and two glasses. Laurie momentarily questioned whether she should drink more. Her fingers, however, did the thinking for her, curling around the glass and lifting it to her lips as if on autopilot.
“Did you really think someone broke my heart?” she asked, her throat burning from another dousing of gin.
“In my line of work, there are usually two reasons ladies like you come to a place like this, alone, before noon.”
“Ladies like me?” Laurie snort laughed as she sloshed the mostly empty glass back on the bar. “Oh, do tell.”
“Either their heart was smashed to smithereens, or they were canned. But the way you were waving around those Benjamins earlier, I took a lucky guess you’re still employed.”
“I told you I’m a rare breed. Neither has happened to me.” Laurie slugged her drink.
“If you say so.” Mack returned to the far end of the bar and continued with his task of cutting fruit.
“Hey!” Annoyed at how easily he’d dismissed her, Laurie got up and followed him, plunking down on a barstool and nearly toppling o the edge. “Why do people insist on having someone in their lives?”
“So they have someone to talk to other than a bartender.
You might give it a try.” He aimed the knife at her chest.
Instead of being o ended as she might’ve been when sober, drunk Laurie found the man’s straight shooting highly amusing. She laughed appreciatively befo
re correcting him. “Well, that’s a crock of shit. For your information, I was happily married until a year ago.”
“She left you?”
“She died.” Laurie frowned as the expressions on both of Mack’s faces turned solemn. She waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to be pitied. “It’s fine. I have to be content with the time I got. It was a great run.”
“That’s it?” he countered. “You’re done with love?”
“Absolutely. From here on out, it’s exclusively me and my career.”
Mack stabbed an orange with a knife. “If that’s the case, why are you here and not at work?”
“Because I’m the boss. I get to do what I want.”
“If you say so.”
“What do you mean, if I say so?” Laurie slapped her hand on top of Mack’s, stopping him from working and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You keep using that phrase.
Like you don’t believe me.”
He shrugged. “I don’t. At least I know you have money to burn, but it doesn’t seem to make you happy.”
“I’m h-happy,” Laurie hiccupped. “At least, I will be if you get me another drink.”
“Maybe you should have some water.” As Laurie opened her mouth to protest, Mack shook his head firmly. “You’ve been here twenty minutes, and you’re already sloshed. I have a duty to cut you o .”
“This is what I think of your duty.” She placed another hundred on the bar. “I hear he’s your favorite, so get pouring, and don’t be stingy this time.”
Mack snorted as he pocketed the money, but he didn’t reach for the bottle.
“Do you know I’m turning fifty this summer?” Laurie asked with a pout, hoping maybe that revelation would get her a refill out of pity.
“Is that right?” Much to Laurie’s annoyance, Mack moved the gin bottle away as she reached for it. “How will you be celebrating?”
“Work.” Oddly, the word made Laurie’s head hurt, and she rubbed her temples to ease the aching. “It’s what I do.”
“Would you like a piece of advice?”
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