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“I’m sure you’ll have it back by the wedding.” Lorie kisses Bob again and says, “We need to start getting ready. The Mercers give us a hard time when we’re late.”
He turns back to us, and says, “Thank you for the great work you did, Rad. Send the bill over, and I’ll add a little something on top for your efforts.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” I’m quick to correct him. “We don’t work on tips.”
“No matter then. It will get settled. Some more good news is that I finally got a response from the owner of the apartment. They’re open to negotiation. The next step is making an offer, so I’ll put that in this week. And I guess I’m seeing you two lovebirds in two weeks. Bye.”
The screen of my monitor goes blue, and I spin back to Marlow, who’s taken a step back. “Fuck,” I say, scrubbing my hands over my face and then taking a deep breath.
She says, “If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to need some time to process what just happened.”
So do I, but more so, we need to renegotiate our arrangement since I no longer have a stake in the game. I’m about to barrage her with questions, but she says, “I know this just got even more complicated, but . . .” Taking her purse, she slides it to her elbow and walks to the door. “Can we discuss this later?”
Yes, I have a lot of damn questions, but she’s acting so out of character that I’m wondering if I should be concerned. “Sure. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.” As if something else occurs to her, she glances back at me. “I’m glad you’ll be at the wedding. I may need your support.”
“You have it, Marlow. Always.”
“Thanks.” She smiles—it’s small but genuine. “Since Cammie and Cade are the guests of honor, they’ll be busy. And now that Tealey has a date, I’m glad I have you.”
What?
“What do you mean Tealey has a date?”
Her smile is brighter, matching her eyes. “I finally got her to agree to go out with Jean-Luc. He’s French and so cute. She’s going to eat him alive.”
“She better fucking not.”
“Why not?”
Fuck, did I say that out loud? “Kidding.”
“Oh,” she replies, accepting that at face value. Thank fuck.
She sighs, not quite shaking off the call with her dad. “Anyway, we’ll talk soon.”
I wait for the door to close to grab my phone to call Tealey, but then it opens again. “I already said not to barge in—” Shit. Shit. Shit.
And there stand Klein and Sable, the senior partners, the names on the letterhead, and my bosses. Irritation is wrangled in the lines of their faces. Mrs. Klein says, “Is everything all right, Mr. Wellington?”
“Yes.” I stand, trying to shake off the shrapnel from the bomb Marlow just dropped. “How can I help you?”
Mrs. Klein is more soft-spoken; that’s how she takes down her opponent. They misjudge her for weak, but she’s always quiet before she attacks her prey. She walks into the room and starts pacing the length of the office.
Mr. Sable, a husky guy who uses his impressively large shoulders to intimidate, gets right to the point. They have a good cop/bad cop relationship that’s worked well for them. “We wanted to come by and tell you we appreciate your hard work. I know we’ve said that before, but you’ve really notched it up to a new level.”
“Thank you,” I say, sliding a hand down my tie. “I appreciate you noticing.”
“How is the Marché case going?” Mrs. Klein asks.
My mouth goes dry as my brain shuffles back to work. I have to pivot and quickly figure out how to make this situation work for me.
“I have great news,” I say, thinking on my feet. “The Marché account is basically closed. Everyone is happy.”
Mr. Sable raises a brow. “Really? That seems fast?”
“Yes. It turns out that Mr. Marché was able to save his marriage, thanks, in part, to the approach we took when dealing with Mrs. Marché.”
Mrs. Klein looks surprised. “That’s nearly unheard of at this level, Mr. Wellington. You do know that, don’t you?”
My spirits lift because this may work. “I do. It was a risky strategy, but I felt it was the right one. I’m pleased with how it worked out, as is Mr. Marché.”
Mr. Sable nods approvingly. “Well done.” He gives his partner a quick look and then switches his gaze back to me. “I think it’s safe to say the partnership is yours if you don’t fuck it up before the board meeting.” Normally, I’d take Ashleigh to lunch and celebrate this news. But it feels like an empty win without sharing it with Tealey, so I just add it to the list of other items we need to discuss.
“I won’t,” I say with a certainty I don’t feel inside. When they leave, I click through my schedule to find the date of the next board meeting. One month.
