shuhaige
52
In fact, I laughed so fucking hard that I almost rocked out of my chair. “What are you smoking?” I halted, waiting for him to change his mind. When he didn’t, I added, “Do you honestly think I can go to Walter, who pays me millions a year, and tell him I’ve been fucking his daughter, and now, I want to date her?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’d put it like that …”
“How would you put it, then?”
His stare moved to the top of his coffee. “I don’t know, but if I wanted to be with her-like I suspect you do-then I’d figure out a way.” His gaze returned to me. “I’m just having a hard time accepting that you two are finished.”
“We are, trust me.” I stood from his chair and walked to his office door, sighing. “And it’s too fucking bad because I’m really going to miss that girl.”
Jo: It’s been four days … can we talk?
Me: What is there to talk about?
Jo: Us.
Me: There is no us, Jo.
Jo: It hurts so bad to read those words. I can’t believe you can dismiss me so easily.
Me: There’s no dismissing. I’m just accepting the reality that we can’t be together.
Jo: But we can. If you care about me as much as I care about you, then we’ll find a way.
Me: We both know that’s not possible.
Jo: No, that’s what you believe. I believe in us.
My fingers hovered above the screen as I stared at her reply.
She thought I didn’t care, that I didn’t want her.
That I didn’t think about her non-fucking-stop.
When the truth was, Jo was the only thing on my mind.
And this was hurting me far worse than it was destroying her.
Engaging more would only make things worse.
I turned my phone around, placing the screen against my desk, and I returned to my computer to finish the email I had been typing.
“We’re going out,” Ford said from the doorway of my office.
I shook my head. “I have an early flight in the morning. I need a good night’s sleep.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry, when did you turn into the biggest pussy? And since when do you need sleep? Go home. Get changed. I’ll pick you up at eight, and don’t even think about coming up with an excuse. I’m the one with a kid, and my ass is still managing to go out.”
I dropped the folder I was holding. “If you’re doing this to get my mind off Jo, I’m all right. You don’t have to bother.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.
Dominick popped in, leaning against the doorframe. “What’s happening? What did I miss?”
“We’re going out,” Ford told him, and then he looked at me. “Because I need a fucking drink.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” I asked.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ford groaned. “Dominick, either meet us at Jenner’s or we’ll see you at the bar.”
I checked the time at the top of my monitor.
I had three hours.
Except I needed that drink now.
Ford left, and I looked at Dominick. “Any reason we should wait until eight to start drinking?”
He came into my office and took a seat in front of my desk. “Hell no.”
“Perfect answer.”
I walked to the wet bar in the back of the room-one of the first things I’d had built when I took over this space. Fresh out of law school, I’d told my parents that clients would be impressed by it. In all actuality, it was for circumstances like this.
“Cheers,” I said, handing him a glass as I returned to my seat.
“Sounds like you’re over this day?”
I nodded. “Not just this day. This whole fucking week.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“She’s texted.”
“And?”
I held the glass near my mouth. “And nothing. Unless she wakes up one morning and is no longer a Spade, she can’t fix the situation, and neither can I.”
“Do you think it’s worth having a conversation with Walter?”
I laughed. Which was exactly what I had done the last time he said something so fucking outlandish. “We’ve talked about this-and, no, I don’t.” I paused. “If you were in my shoes, would you?” I tried to think of a similar scenario, using one of his clients. “Would you request a meeting with Jerry Seinfeld to tell him you’re fucking his daughter?”
“Is she even of legal age?”
“Jo’s only twenty-two; she’s not that far off.”
He took a long drink. “Listen, if I couldn’t live without her, then yes. If she was a one-night stand, no. I’d move on and forget about her.”
“And if you lost Jerry as a client because of it?”
He smiled, but it was the kind of grin I hadn’t been prepared for. “I’m going to tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
“All right.”
“There is a whole world out there that doesn’t involve work. A world that’s more important than your clients and how much money they can make you.”
I exhaled. “I know that.”
“Do you?” His stare intensified. “I’m not so sure about that. From the way I understand it, you’d rather lose her than him.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No?” He placed his arms on my desk. “Then, tell me what it’s like, Jenner.” He held up his hand as I tried to chime in. “I remember when things were at a standstill with Kendall,” he said, referring to his girlfriend. “You and Ford practically had a goddamn intervention. If you remember-and it seems like you’ve forgotten-Kendall was my client’s sister. Now, Daisy might have been a client I wanted to drop, but she was still a client at the time. I wasn’t looking to settle down, and you and Ford whipped my ass.” He adjusted his tie, his cuff links hitting the desktop when his arm landed. “That’s what I’m doing right now, whipping your fucking ass because you’re making a horrible mistake.”
“And you know that … how?”
“Because whenever you talk about her, you’re happy. You smile. You’re a different person. And after her trip to LA, you were the giddiest motherfucker in the world. You never act that way, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw that side of you.” He leaned back in his chair, taking his drink with him. “You’ve denied wanting a relationship with her, but no one believes that bullshit. She does matter, and you do fucking care.”
“Well, shit.”
I went back to the bar, grabbed the whiskey, and brought it to my desk. Since I’d finished my glass, I twisted off the cap and drank straight from the bottle.
“Someone’s looking to get drunk.”
I wiped my lips. “Not drunk. Wasted.”