“Now that Lou is gone, how does it feel to be the lead fixer for the Durant dynasty?” Dylan asked. The two of us, along with most of the associates attorneys and several partners, were waiting for Marella, the Clark and Jeffries office manager, to finish laying out today’s selection of breakfast pastries. She glanced over her shoulder at the group of hungry attorneys and rolled her eyes. The daily feeding frenzy was about to begin. With a mixture of the early crowd and the late crowd, six a.m. was when the firm were at our most ravenous.
“It feels a lot like three hundred and fifty dollars an hour,” I told him. I couldn’t suppress my grin at the raise on my hourly rate, although the fact that I was going to meet his sister for lunch that day while charging my client that amount made me feel slightly guilty. A lot guilty.
“Congrats,” Dylan said, raising his coffee cup like it was a champagne toast. “Any super weird stuff you’re working on yet?”
I shrugged. “Just the usual drama and backstabbing.”
“No more sex tapes?” Dylan had walked in on me reviewing the Angelica Ellis tape one evening at the office. I had to watch it from beginning to end to make sure it was the whole tape, but even with a good explanation for why I was watching such a thing at work it had been an intensely awkward conversation. Especially when Lou showed up with three beers and offered to make it a party.
“Not lately, no. Thank god.”
“Then what are you working on?”
“Just wrapping up the affairs of the daughter who just passed away. Edith.”
“Oh yeah, I saw something about that in the newspaper. Estate stuff actually sounds like traditional legal work.”
I chuckled. “Almost. It’s definitely got that unique Durant family flair though. It would be too easy if it was just your regular estate case.” I’d spent the last four hours at the morgue. It was a decidedly creepy place any time of day, in the middle of the night it was much, much worse. I hadn’t even seen any bodies, but the stainless-steel walls of little doors, trays full of horrifying instruments, and the wide, shiny exam tables were enough to cause my imagination to go into overdrive. Plus, the guys that worked in there brought gallows humor to a whole other level. I hoped I never had to pay that place another visit.
Distracting me from thoughts of dead bodies and bone saws, Dylan grabbed the two last cinnamon rolls and a bear claw from the conference table. I snagged one of the cinnamon rolls off his plate and replaced it with an apple. He made a muffled noise of protest.
“You know I love cinnamon rolls,” I said defensively. “Plus, you don’t need two. An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
“Are you calling me fat?” He made a petulant, mock-indignant face at me. “You get rid of Lou and then immediately become just as shitty and mean as him? I really am going to have to call HR on you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Actually, you could probably use the extra cinnamon roll,” I told Dylan seriously. “Have you been eating regular meals? You look tired.”
He grimaced and shrugged. Dylan had been working on a nightmare merger for months, and I could tell that he had not been taking care of himself. He looked like he’d lost weight and every time I saw him, he seemed to be a little bit less healthy. I was now so used to seeing him with dark circles under his eyes that old pictures of him without them looked weird.
“I can hardly afford food while making only three hundred and twenty-five dollars an hour.” Dylan’s ubiquitous sarcasm was not affected by his recent departure from regular patterns of eating and sleeping. The fact that he made twenty-five dollars less an hour clearly grated at him. However, I was not about to be distracted from my scolding.
“Don’t make me sic your sister on you. I know she’s in town now,” I told him. I didn’t mention that I’d seen her yesterday, twice. It wasn’t relevant.
“You better not. She’s the world’s biggest mother hen. I’m supposed to be the older sibling but sometimes you wouldn’t know it. She thinks just because she’s a nurse, she knows more about how to be healthy than me.”
I decided not to point out the idiocy of that last statement. Obviously, Eva knew quite a bit more about being healthy than Dylan. She had a degree in it. “Then take better care of yourself.”
“Says you. When was the last time you took a day off Mr. Corporate Fixer?” Dylan had me there, and he knew it.
“Unlike you, my depressed and overworked friend, I find time to enjoy myself and practice appropriate self-care. I believe in work-life balance.”
“Is that what you call your right hand? Self-care?”
“Well that’s just rude.”
“Rude is taking home a woman you met at a hotel bar and then not remembering her name the next morning. And I know you’ve done that. So don’t lecture me and pretend your leisure time is spent any better than mine.” He was right about this as well. And I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d done such a thing. Those sorts of interactions were no longer fun or sexy. Instead, they’d become deeply unsatisfying and depressing.
“Hypocrite,” I said anyway, knowing it was true.
“That’s fair. I’m just trying to get you to concede that you’re at least as dysfunctional as I am.” Dylan was smirking at me. I hated when he smirked at me. Especially when I deserved it.
I sighed. “Yeah, probably so.”
“Remember when we were idealistic young law students? So full of vigor, virtue, and valiance? Back when we believed that we could make a difference in the world? What happened to those guys?” He thought he was being wholly facetious now, but behind his glasses I could see a glimmer of sincerity in his shadowed eyes.
“Three hundred and fifty dollars an hour, a chance at making partner one day if we work our asses off, and student loans in the mid six figures,” I replied. “And in my case, my mother’s aggressive, metastatic breast cancer.”
Dylan nodded silently. We’d both compromised considerably on what we thought the whole practice of law was going to really be like. Dylan had compromised his health and sanity. I still had both of those, but what I was finding in Lou’s files made me worry I wouldn’t hold onto my integrity much longer. Being a corporate fixer for the Durant family had been a hard job for the last few years, but I’d always had Lou as a buffer. Now that I was on my own, it was a whole new ballgame.
My phone’s buzzing in my pocket made me jump, and Dylan laughed and sauntered off like he’d won something. He snatched the cinnamon roll back off my plate and winked.
“I’m taking your advice and practicing self-care.” He remarked over his shoulder.
“Gross dude. You shouldn’t just announce your intention to masturbate at the office like that. I’m gonna call HR and report you for sexual harassment.” I said it a bit too loud and a couple of the junior associates looked up from their breakfasts until I glared them into directing their attention elsewhere. Once I was sure they were properly cowed into submission, I glanced at my phone to check the time. I didn’t want to be late for my ‘date’ with Eva.
My mom had texted? She didn’t know how to text. My heart sunk.
Hi this is Nurse Belinda Wu at Mercy Philadelphia Hospital. Your mother asked me to text you and let you know she’s headed to surgery...
8
Eva
Thomas saw me coming after lunch and cringed. He suddenly became extremely busy folding Alexander’s spare bedding. He already knew he was on my shit-list today and the scowl on my face must have tipped him off that my mood had not improved. I did not appreciate him sharing my number with Mr. Townsend, but I couldn’t very well blame him entirely for the situation. In truth, I’d have probably done the same thing if some sexy dude had acted interested in Thomas and asked me for his number, but that was neither here nor there.
I took Alexander’s blood pressure and other vitals and then put him down for his afternoon nap. Amazingly, he went along without any of his characteristic complaining. Even he seemed to realize I was in no mood to be messed with today. I could prac
tically feel my foul mood radiating of me in waves of grumpiness.
Curiosity eventually got the better of Thomas. “So, how’d it go?”
I didn’t look up from where I was marking things down on Alexander’s chart. “It didn’t. He never showed up. I’ve been waiting outside all this time. In the snow.”
Thomas’ hissed intake of breath pulled my eyes up to his face. His eyes were wide behind today’s dramatic purple eyeshadow. “Putain!” The closest all-purpose French equivalent to ‘fuck’ was the only appropriate response. I couldn’t help but agree. Thomas looked properly incensed on my behalf.
“What do you think happened?” Thomas then asked in English.
I shrugged.
When Thomas continued to look at me for an answer, I frowned. My feelings could really only be properly expressed in French. “J'en ai plus rien à foutre.” The closest translation would be something like, I don’t give a flying fuck. Thomas nodded understandingly.
“Imbécile,” Thomas said, and then in English, “his loss.”
Charlie led me on last night, and then he was a no-show at lunch. I was rapidly revising my assessment of him. Not texting or calling was just rude. I was struggling to figure out a reason to explain it that didn’t include either a car accident or a stolen phone in the middle of the Sahara desert. After waiting outside in the stinging autumn wind for forty-five awful minutes, I went back inside in defeat. Now I was hungry, cold, and pissed off.
I simmered in my irritation until Charlie’s apology call arrived halfway through the afternoon. I stepped out in the hallway to prevent Thomas and Alexander from eavesdropping, leaned heavily against the wall, and took several deep breaths before answering it. Part of me wanted to make Charlie leave his mea culpa on my voicemail, but like Thomas, curiosity got the better of me.
“Eva, I’m so sorry.” To his credit, Charlie’s voice was incredibly contrite. He at least sounded sorry. I heard something in the background of his call. Sirens?
I wasn’t about to let him off the hook with some sort of explanation. “What happened? Why didn’t you call or something? Was there an emergency? I waited outside for a really long time.”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. When he did, his tone was evasive. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to… I had a family emergency and couldn’t call.”
I swallowed my irritation. It wasn’t a date, I reminded myself firmly. Even though he’d been rude, I didn’t really have a right to inquire further over a missed business meeting. I had no idea what to say next.
Charlie’s voice was soft and hesitant when he broke the silence a moment later. “Can we reschedule our meeting for dinner tonight? I’ll make it up to you. I know a really good pizza place.”
My snide reply froze in my throat. I’d wanted to tell him that I had a date scheduled, but something about his tone drained my anger out of me. I’d wanted to tell him to fuck off forever. But I couldn’t.
I sighed into the phone instead. “You don’t need to make anything up to me. People miss business meetings all the time. It’s not like you didn’t show up for a date or something. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dylan.”
The quality of the silence on the other end of the line shifted slightly. I could half believe that he was disappointed somehow by my reaction. It made me feel better in a twisted way.
Charlie’s answer was earnest and low. “My mom’s breast cancer is in remission, but she had a scare this morning. She needed a small emergency surgery. I just… I didn’t have the presence of mind to call. I was really panicked.”
My breath escaped me in a rush, taking the remainder of my irritation with it. Those had been sirens I heard. He was at a hospital. Also, there was no such thing as a “small emergency surgery”. If emergency surgery was needed, there was never anything small about it. His poor mom.
“Is she alright?”
“She’s going to be fine.” I could hear the relief in his voice.
“And you? Are you alright?”
Silence. I suppose I wouldn’t be alright either. How could I stay mad at a man who was helping his sick mother get emergency surgery? I’d spent plenty of time in hospitals and around very ill people and their loved ones during my rotations in nursing school. People were never at their best in those situations. Often the family members were more upset than the sick people.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with this today. I’ll meet you tonight for dinner if you want. But you should probably get some rest instead. You must be exhausted.”
“To be honest, I think I could use the distraction.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. Really. It will do me good. Are you ok with pizza?”
I smirked. “I’m always ok with pizza. Always. I could probably eat it for every meal.”
“Me too. I’ll pick you up at, um, seven-thirty? Is that ok? I promise I’ll be there this time.”
“That’s fine with me. Do I need to dress up or anything? I mean, I won’t wear scrubs, but it’s not a fancy place is it?”
“No, not fancy. It’s a casual place.”
“Alright, see you at seven-thirty.”
“See you then. And Eva? Thank you for giving me another chance.” Charlie’s voice seemed genuinely relieved and pleased. I didn’t know what to make of any of this. He said it wasn’t a date, but he sure acted like it was a date. Charlie was the king of mixed messages.
I stood in the quiet of the hallway for a long time after hanging up. Against all odds, I was excited to see Charlie tonight. I let myself be happy, but I hoped I wasn’t setting myself up for some kind of heartbreak.
9
Charlie
Eva slipped gracefully into the passenger seat of my car as soon as I pulled up, denying me the opportunity to come around and open the door for her like a gentleman. Because it wasn’t a date. I bit back my disappointment.
Her burgundy knee-length skirt and prim, lacey blouse made me wish that it was. Especially the way her skirt rode up her thighs in the low bucket seat. In fact, everything about her made me wish that this was a date. She smiled hesitantly at me in the dimly lit confines of my Mercedes. Her smile was even and white behind her pink, full lips.
“Nice car,” she remarked. I revved the engine playfully and she giggled like a school girl.
I couldn’t help my satisfied smile. “Thanks.”
The sleek, cherry-red sports car had been an impulse purchase the day I paid off the last of my undergraduate student loans. Dylan had dubbed it the pussy-wagon and would not be pleased to know his sister was sitting in it.
I knew that I shouldn’t have bought the car, and that my existing late model Honda was perfectly serviceable, but it brought me so much joy that the guilt over the price tag was muted. After growing up where and how I did, childhood me had never even dreamed of owning something like this. Yet now I did. And it was fucking glorious and worth every penny.
I peeled out in front of the Durant mansion, momentarily not caring if it somehow got back to Richard that I was driving irresponsibly on his property. Eva laughed hysterically, and her porcelain cheeks turned bright pink. Eva liked to go fast? Me too.
The Durant mansion was sprawling, but it occupied only a tiny fraction of the eight-acre estate. I took the back exit on my way back to the highway, taking us at one hundred and ten around the rolling hills. Eva’s blue eyes grew enormous in her face and she held onto her seat the entire time, but she was grinning widely. When we whipped around the turns she squealed adorably. Eva definitely liked to go fast.
“Do you always drive like a complete maniac?” She asked as we pulled onto the highway and I slowed to a speed that was more… legal. Or at least closer to legal. Her voice was calm and curious, not accusatory. Certainly not afraid.
“Only when I can get away with it.” I had no guilt about my driving. I knew what I was doing. On the rare occasions I actually had leisure time, I took the car to the racetrack to practice. Eva was perfectly safe.
> Eva’s eyes searched my face for something, but whether or not she found it was a mystery. She sat back in her deep, bucket seat and looked out the window.
“How far away is the restaurant? Is it in the city?” She asked finally.
I shook my head as we flew down the highway.
“No, we’re almost there,” I answered. I pulled into the exit lane and then into the dimly lit parking lot a moment later. This place was close by. I wasn’t sure if she’d be willing to put up with a long drive. To my surprise, Eva looked vaguely disappointed. I could tell she liked riding in my car. I’d never felt so damn proud of it. Then as she looked around her face shifted and became amused.
“You really don’t have much of a social life, do you?”
“Hmm?”
“Charlie, this place is totally abandoned.”
I looked around in confusion. Eva was right. My favorite pizza place was closed? Goddammit. This was the only place that made half decent Hawaiian pizza in all of Philadelphia.
In fact, by the dilapidated appearance, it looked like my favorite pizza place had been closed for at least a year. The windows were boarded up and the sign had been taken down. A large “for rent” sign was attached to the door. To top it all off, the rain that had been threatening all day began to hit the windshield in fat, heavy drops. The first rumble of thunder made us both jump.
This day had been a total shit-show from the very beginning. I’m not sure what I’d done to deserve this kind of karma, but it had clearly caught up with me. It was just too much. Momentarily forgetting that Eva was sitting beside me, I smacked the steering wheel of my fun car and swore foully before closing my eyes and running my hands through my hair in total frustration.
About thirty seconds went by in silence, punctuated only by thunder.
“Charlie?” Eva’s voice was soft, sweet, and comforting. She reached out a tentative hand and set it on my shoulder. The feeling of connection zinged through me. “Are you ok?”
Never Say Never Page 6