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1
Nathan
I gripthe glass of whiskey I just poured myself from the wet bar hidden behind a set of cabinet doors in my thirty-ninth-floor office, as I look out at the city. The highest level of office space in this monstrosity of a building, and one I had built seven years ago for the company I started from scratch. The one that changed my life forever. The only level higher is my penthouse apartment. Since I had this place built to my specifications, and I’m basically married to my job, I included a penthouse apartment. I can roll out of bed at any hour and be sitting at my desk within minutes.
I take a sip of the cold amber liquid, welcoming the burn as it warms my belly. I’ve stalled long enough, keeping my grandmother waiting. Lord knows she’ll rip me a new one because she’s waited five minutes already, since Rose, my assistant, let me know she was on the phone. I tap the button on my Bluetooth and brace myself for the conversation about to unfold.
“Nathan, why, thank you for making time in your busy schedule for your withering grandmother,” she snips. She’s all bark and no bite, but I’ll let her have her fun.
“I’ll always make time for you, you know that,” I remind her. In the past, I’ve been known to stop negations to take a call from her, because I hate making her wait.
“Good, then I expect to see you at my birthday party on Friday night. It’s at the community center, six p.m. sharp,” she says.
“G-Ma, can’t I fly you out here on Sunday? We can go to your favorite restaurant. I’ll book you a day at a spa down on Rodeo Drive, followed by a day of shopping wherever you want.”
“Nathan, I don’t want any of that. I want you to finally come home. That is the only thing this old woman wants,” she says, really digging the knife in deeper and turning it.
I blow out a breath, leaning into the arm that is pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows lining two of the walls of my office. “Okay, I’ll be there,” I concede. I’d do anything for my grandmother, and this is one thing that I’ve dug my heels in about. I haven’t been back home in ten long years. That’s all about to change in just under two days.
“I’ll let your mother know to expect you,” she says before hanging up on me.
“Fuck!” I yell to no one.
“Everything okay?” Rose asks, sticking her head into my office.
“Yeah, or, it will be,” I tell her, draining my whiskey. “Tomorrow, I need you to arrange the jet for Friday, its time for me to return home.”
“Tennessee?” Rose asks. The shock in her voice pulls my attention from the skyline, to staring at her standing in my doorway.
“The one and only,” I confirm.
Rose whistles. “Wow, she must have really guilt-tripped you to get you to agree to return home,” Rose muses.
“She’s only going to turn ninety once; it’s the least I can do. I’d rather get it over with now than when I get the call that she’s died and I’m returning for a funeral.”
“I’ll get it all taken care of. How long do you want to stay?” she asks.
“Just a few days,” I tell her. “What’s my schedule look like next week?” I ask.
She takes out her phone and pulls up my schedule. “Nothing you can’t do from there. You’ve got a few meetings with department heads, but I can let them all know that your monthly meeting will be virtual, which allows you to stay all week, if you want.”
I ponder what she’s told me, trying to decide just how much time I’ll want. Being gone from the place you called home for the first nineteen years of your life, but you haven’t been back to in ten years. At first, it was because I was so engrossed in college life, but it quickly turned into being busy developing the first app I ever created, the one that changed my life forever. The one I sold a year later for two billion. I left college and immediately started in on the next app. To date, my company has created thousands of apps, some our own ideas, as well as others from our consumer departments. The consumer side allows people with ideas of their own access to our programmers who can assist them in building whatever ideas they might have but don’t have the ability or knowledge to execute themselves.
“All right, I’ll stay the week. If anything changes, I can always change the flight plans,” I tell her.
“Sounds good; I’ll get everything booked when I come in tomorrow. Would you like me to order you some dinner before I leave for the day?” she asks. I look down at my watch, it's already pushing six, and I realize that Rose should have been out of here hours ago.
“No, I can take care of it. Why are you still here?” I ask her.
“I had some reports I was trying to finish up that I knew you’d need first thing tomorrow,” she says, like it's no big deal she’s here this late.
“Rose, go. Go home to your family. I can take care of myself. I promise.”
“Okay, if that changes, you know how to reach me,” she says before giving me a slight wave. I watch as she pivots, heading toward her desk; I’m sure to gather her things before she heads to the elevator.
I look back out the window, noticing the sun has sunk lower in the horizon, causing the sky to fill with pinks and purples as it lights everything up.
I ponder pouring another finger or two of whiskey, but ultimately, I decide against it. I tidy up my desk, slide my phone in my pocket, and head for my penthouse. I’ve got some packing to do before leaving.
