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“Thank you for your help, Griselda. We’ll keep an eye on this.”
“What are you going to do?”
It’s the second million dollar “L” I’ve taken this week.
“I’ll figure something out. Oh, and another thing. I add. “I need to have a cell phone ordered ASAP. A brand new one.”
“Why, Sir? For you?”
“Just get the nicest one you can find. New number. New sim card. Can you put 12 months of prepaid service on it? Use my card.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Also, I’m sending you an old phone. I need you to see if you can get that computer place in the capital to fix it.”
“Yes Sir, of course.”
“What are the revenue numbers for Wellington Media last quarter?”
“In the positive to the tune of three hundred thirty two million profit.”
My lips quirk in a small smile.
“Some good news.”
“Looks like whatever you did while you were traveling to Chicago worked.”
“Excellent news.”
I hang up with her and head out on my balcony for some fresh air.
Sitting on my balcony, I consider smoking a stogie, but opt instead for a good old fashioned cerveza.
Yoshimi could not be more right. What am I doing right now? I’m all over the place.
I pull out my wallet, and pull out the picture of Fay and I. It’s one of my favorite pictures.
We were twenty-two. Smiling like idiots, drunk as hell after being out all night at the bars in college.
I can get mad all I want about my ex-girlfriend cheating on me. But the truth is, I wasn’t in it. The truth is, she knew I was still in love with Fay when we were together.
A single tear rolls down my eye.
Why did Fay have to die like that? It’s such fucking bullshit. I don’t even like thinking about how it all happened.
After twenty-five, I was never the same and that’s the truth. Fay would be disgusted with me for being an asshole to random strangers like Amelia.
I need to be better. It’s true--I’ve lost perspective of the things that matter.
But after Fay was gone, nothing seemed to matter. Maybe nothinghasmattered since then. I’ve become a ruthless businessman, almost a shell of that young man she fell in love with before she died. That man didn’t give a shit about money. For almost ten years it’s been all I care about. Maybe because I know money isn’t going to die tragically.
I take out my phone and pull up my company app so I can see Amelia’s stats in her time at my company.
Damn. She really did have great numbers and reports. Forgot her report one time. That's no big deal.
I look at her background on Linkedin.
Damn. Yale Business school? And she’s not one of those conceited people who throws it in your face, like all of my buddies at Harvard.
