by Natalie Ann
William turned and walked over to the waiting area, hung up his jacket, and took a seat. He didn’t think he was that early. Just fifteen minutes, but he was guessing the office wasn’t even open yet by the looks of it.
He hadn’t been able to sleep and woke up an hour before his alarm clock went off. Between this meeting and his dinner with Isabel tonight, he was wound up good and tight.
“Hey, William. Good to see you again.”
He turned to see Thomas Mathews walking forward with this hand reached out. Thomas was a big bear of man, surprising William when they met a week ago. He sure didn’t look much like a lawyer. “I’m running a little late today or I would have been in earlier. My father isn’t here yet. Why don’t you come on back with me to my office for now?”
He followed Thomas down a hallway and around the corner. He was guessing Thomas was only two years or so older than him. He’d mentioned the other day he just started practicing at his father’s firm a few months ago.
When William walked into the office, he saw that though the room was small, it was nice and tidy. High-end desk and furniture. Guess lawyers knew how to impress. He took a seat in a chair with Thomas sitting opposite him.
“Can I have Wendy get you a coffee or something while we wait? It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. She’s setting up the conference room now.”
“I’m good,” William said.
“Then we’ll just chat.”
“I really appreciate you giving me a chance to come back and meet with your father,” William said.
“Glad to do it. He’s been talking for years about wanting to start investing for his staff. Trying to set up some type of retirement plan, but he hasn’t found the right person to work with yet.”
That shocked William. He figured someone who’d been looking into this for years wouldn’t want to give their business to him, not when he was just starting out. No way was he blowing this chance. He’d looked everything over multiple times again this morning and was ready to pitch his idea.
“Have you met with other brokers recently?” William asked, figuring he better try to see what he was up against.
“Yep. Frankly I’m getting sick and tired of wasting my time doing it. I felt like my father gave me this as busy work, but realize now what he was doing.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s teaching me to weed out the bullshitters from go-getters.”
He wasn’t used to someone being that direct with him. Must be the week of direct people in his life. First Isabel and now Thomas. Thoughts of Isabel actually started to relax him a touch. “Which one am I?”
Thomas laughed. “You’re back, aren’t you?”
Good to know, William thought to himself. “Can I ask how many others you’ve met with?”
“More than I care to think about,” Thomas said, laughing. “So are you from around this area?”
William would have rather gotten more information, but he wasn’t going to push it. “I’ve lived in Albany most of my life. How about you?”
“I live in Saratoga. Lived there my whole life, but my father wanted his practice here.”
He thought of Isabel again and wondered if Thomas knew her or her family. He was guessing there was a good chance of that, both of them running in circles he’d never frequented before. He wasn’t about to ask though. Not when they’d only been on one date.
“Do you ever think of moving here?” William asked.
“No. I don’t want the bigger city life. I’ve got my eye on a house on Saratoga Lake. My parents brought us to the beach there a lot as kids and I always thought it’d be a great place to live. Someday,” he said. “Ever been there?”
“No,” William said. He knew of the lake. And knew it’d never be a place he could afford to live.
“Your father is ready for you, Thomas,” Wendy said, sticking her head in the doorway.
Thomas stood up. “Hope you’re ready.”
William was afraid to ask what that meant. “I am,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he was feeling.
Thirty minutes later, he was hoping there wasn’t sweat soaking through his suit jacket. It was probably being absorbed by his shirt, and now he was thinking he’d have to run home quick and change before going to his office.
Daniel Mathews was the same size as his son, Thomas, but years of experience made him tougher and more to the point. He smiled and he laughed, but there was a seriousness behind his clear blue eyes.
He drilled William with question after question, asked about every option available, and in the end—when William thought there was no way he could nail this account, no way someone would sign him on when they questioned every damn thing—Daniel said, “We’ve got a deal. Draw up the papers for me to look over and we’ll get started with retirement plans for the staff.”
“Thank you,” William said. “Your staff will be pleased; I know they will. I’ll make sure it’s all in layman’s terms for them to understand and I’ll sit down with them individually to answer any and all questions.”
“I expect that all to happen,” Daniel said, shaking his hand. He hoped it wasn’t damp with sweat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a packed day. Thomas can see you out.”
William gathered the rest of his papers and put them in his briefcase. Thomas started to laugh. “What’s so funny?” William asked.
“You. My father never loses his touch.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he had you on the ropes. I could see it on your face. I should have warned you beforehand, though. Just to ease your mind.”
“Ease it?” William asked.
“He was going to sign based on my feedback from our first meeting. But he likes to see how someone stands up to questioning.”
William wished he’d known that all along. Then maybe he wouldn’t have had a few pounds of water loss. “A lawyer thing?”
“Yeah. I knew you’d be fine. You’re a straight shooter. That’s what he looks for and that is what he wants. He can spot a liar a mile away. I’m glad to know I’m picking that up from him.”
“I thought it was over a few times.”
“He just wanted to see if you’d be honest. My father is smart. He knows the risks involved with investments. He wanted to see if you would sugarcoat it or be upfront.”
“I don’t want anyone to ever be deceived.”
“It’s a good trait to have. It probably hasn’t done you well so far, though, I’m guessing. Most people hear they may lose money, that all investments carry risks, and are probably ready to say they’ll stick with a savings account or a CD.”
“Pretty much. There’s no reward without risk, though,” William said. Even with the little he was making, he was still investing as much of it as he could. He was looking toward the future, not the present.
“Very true. We should get a drink to celebrate this weekend. You, for signing with our firm, and me for not having to sit through any more of these sales pitches.”
William laughed. “I’m working or I’d love to.”
“Over the weekend? How late are you working?” Thomas asked.
“Not at Weber’s. I tend bar on Fridays and the weekends.”
Thomas nodded. “Maybe I’ll stop in and have a drink there, then.”
William grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the bar and address, then handed it over. He was sure Thomas wouldn’t show up once he saw where it was. It wasn’t exactly a place lawyers hung out. Then again, he was still surprised Isabel was in there last week.
When the cold air hit William as he walked outside, he realized he was indeed going to have to change his shirt, as it felt frozen on his back. He drove across town quickly, let himself into his apartment, and grabbed another starched white shirt from the tiny closet off the living room where he hung up as many things as he could. Then he ran into the bathroom and cleaned up and changed.
He looked around his small apartment one more time, and knew it was a
s clean as it was going to get. There wasn’t much he could do about the way it looked but knew that with any luck, he’d be saying goodbye to it soon enough.
Before he’d left Thomas’s office, Daniel came out and handed him a list of six names and numbers and said, “Give them a call. Tell them I just signed with you. I guarantee you’ll be meeting with every one of them before the end of next week.”
She Belonged
“Did you have any problems finding the place?” William asked when he opened his door hours later.
“No. You gave me good directions,” she said, looking around his apartment.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, reaching for the bag in her hand. She’d stopped at the store on her way and picked up what she needed for dinner. “This is pretty heavy.”
“I’ve got all the makings for dinner in there. I was thinking of baking a dessert too, but didn’t think you’d have what I needed here. Like pans and a mixer and such, so there’s ice cream and a few toppings. We can make sundaes.”
“In December?” he asked.
“Ice cream is good any time of the year. Not just in the summer,” she said, smiling at him. He looked almost shocked over it. What silly thinking that was.
“I never thought much of it. You really went all out, then.”
He set the bag down on the kitchen counter. The tiny counter ran the length of the back wall. She was glad she decided to not cook anything too adventurous because she wasn’t going to have much room to work.
“I like to cook a lot. Do you have a place where I can hang my jacket?” she asked.
He reached for it and brought it over to a small closet by his front door and hung it up. The place was extremely neat. Pretty bare, but still neat. She figured it would be like this, and guessed that was why he hesitated inviting her over. But she didn’t care about those things.
Nope, all she cared about was that she was here with him. She was going to cook him a nice meal, because it was something she enjoyed and never had anyone that could appreciate it. And she didn’t have to twist his arm for this date. Nope, he was all for it. Guess pushy sometimes had its perks.
Then, if she had her way, she’d sit on his couch right over there and they’d do a good deal of necking. Because, again, she never had anyone that kissed her like he had.
She started to pull the food out of the bag and set it in line on the counter. Then she opened his freezer and put the ice cream in there, noticing that it was empty of everything but ice. She was going to ask if he had any food in the place at all, but when she opened the fridge out of curiosity, she found it half full. Milk, eggs, some sandwich meats and cheese, beer, and a bottle of wine. Not much more.
“I do buy food,” he said, laughter in his voice.
She turned and caught his grin. “I tend to be nosy.”
“That’s fine. I just buy what I need each week. I’m not here much.”
“And you eat eggs,” she said, catching sight of a lot of them when she peeked inside.
“I do. As I mentioned, that’s all I know how to cook. I’m also hoping dinner doesn’t include eggs.”
“Not at all,” she said. “I’m going to make chicken cacciatore and serve it over pasta.”
“I’m not sure what that is, but I really don’t care. It just sounds good.”
She looked at his face, saw the smile he was sporting and the happiness in his eyes. He seemed more cheerful today. “Do you have a skillet I can use?”
He walked by, brushing against her as he bent down, and pulled one out of a cabinet. Then he grabbed a big pot and a strainer, too. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you don’t mind, you could cut up the tomatoes and mushrooms while I clean this chicken and get it cooking. I probably should have asked if there were any vegetables you won’t eat.”
“I’ll eat anything you cook,” he said. He pulled a knife out of another drawer and then stood next to her. “Any special way you want these cut up?”
She reached for the knife, her hand touching his and resting there. She looked at his face, smiled, and said, “Can I have a kiss first?”
He laughed. “I can do that, too.”
He put his lips to hers, kissed her sweetly, kissed her softly, and moved back before she was ready. She wanted more but figured she shouldn’t pressure him just yet. She’d pushed more than she had before with him and she didn’t want to turn him off with her brazenness. Asking for a date was one thing. Asking for too much physical contact might give the wrong impression.
“I’ll show you how to cut everything. I’m a little particular about things. I follow recipes to the letter and I want everything cut the way it works best.”
“Do you cook a lot?”
“Not as often as I’d like. When I lived at home, I’d help my mother in the kitchen almost every night. But it’s not much fun to cook for myself, and my roommate isn’t home until after I’d like to eat.”
“I like to eat, so if you want to cook, I’ll always appreciate it. Just tell me what you want and I’ll make sure I pick up the ingredients.”
“I’ll do that, no worries.”
“I can afford it,” he said, looking annoyed.
She put her hand on his arm. “I know you can. It’s just I want to get the right things. It’s more work to write down exactly what I want and make sure you get it than it is for me to pick it up myself. But if it makes you feel better, maybe we can shop together next time. I can teach you what to look for.” His face relaxed, and she hoped he took what she said to heart. She hadn’t meant to insult him. “I’m really fussy about food.”
“You said particular,” he pointed out.
“It’s more like fussy. Maybe finicky, difficult. Hard to please. I’ve been told that, too.”
“Then we can do it together. I don’t think I want to get someone who is all those things angry with me. Not when I’m wishing she’d cook for me again.”
She lay her head on his shoulder, shocking him with that move, she knew, but it felt right. Being in this tiny apartment that was almost the size of the kitchen in her parents’ house felt more than right. It felt like she belonged.
“I don’t get angry all that much,” she said. “Not even when my students drive me insane. So how was your day? Talk to me while we cook.”
“I signed a client today,” he said.
“That’s great!” She turned and kissed him fast on the lips. “Congratulations. Is this the person that you were meeting with for a second time?”
“It is. A law firm. I met with the son last week, and with his father and him again today. The father was a hard sell, had me sweating the whole time, then shook my hand and asked me to draw everything up. When I left, he handed me a list of some more potential clients to call.”
“Did you call them?” she asked.
“I did. I have two lined up for next week. I left a message with the others.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she said. “Sometimes it only takes one person to get the ball rolling.”
“That was it for me. I met Thomas last week. His father, Daniel, was the tough one, but I think this might be the break I need or have been waiting for. Just the experience and the names of these clients behind my belt will push me forward.”
“Thomas and Daniel? Mathews?” she asked.
“Yes. Thomas said he was from Saratoga. I didn’t mention your name to him, though.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you did. I know them. Well, I know of them. My father has mentioned their names before.”
“You’ve never met them?”
“No. I know they live in the same town. My father is up on anyone that has money, power, or influence, but they didn’t have any daughters so no reason for my father to ever come face-to-face with them. My father spends most of his time rubbing elbows with anyone he can who might affect his job.”
“Why did you frown when you said that?”
She shrugged. “Because my father’s j
ob means more to him than his family. It’s all about putting on a good face. A strong image. He has ideas of what he thinks and wants, and he believes everyone should follow suit. The Mathews, from what I’ve heard, aren’t followers by any sense of the word.”
“I didn’t get that impression, either. Especially since Thomas said he’d met with several brokers, but went with me. Or recommended me.”
“Then you should feel honored. They are highly respected in Saratoga and even in this area. If he is giving your name out, then you better get ready. Many listen when Daniel talks.”
“Except your father?” he said, grinning.
“Something like that.”
“Then I should probably send them a bottle of wine or something as a thanks.”
“I don’t know that Daniel is a wine drinker,” she said, smirking.
“Probably right. Maybe a bottle of scotch. I’ll talk to the owner at the bar tomorrow. See if I can pick up a bottle at cost.”
She laughed at him. “You’re a good person, William.” Sometimes she felt she needed to give him a boost. Remind him he was good enough for her, not that she ever thought otherwise, but she got the feeling he needed to hear it now and again.
“Because I wanted to get a bottle of scotch at cost?”
“No. Not that. Deep down, today was huge for you. I could see it when I got here. That something made you happier. It was that, wasn’t it?”
“I am happier because of that. But more so that you’re here with me. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. For the last two days. I think that just makes me lucky rather than a good person.”
“Really?” she asked, charmed. “I think you’re both. A good person because you don’t take anything for granted or expect a handout, and lucky because I’m going to cook you one heck of a meal tonight.”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged tight, kissed her again, and said, “Let’s get this dinner finished up so we can go sit on the couch and make out. Then it will definitely be my super lucky night.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Start chopping!”
Not Embarrassed