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“That’s not much better.”
“I’m not at the office. You are.”
“Acquisitions wants a recommendation on the Porter account Monday morning. So I’m researching the stock options and reviewing the last proposal we received from them.”
“You have copies of their quarterly statements?”
“Not the most recent ones. We requested them, but they haven’t been sent yet.”
“That’s unacceptable. Tell them to get them to us by tomorrow, or any offer is off the table.”
“I don’t have the clearance to issue that kind of ultimatum.”
“I do. Draft an email, send it to me, and I’ll get it to their chairman.”
Scott’s exhale is loud and relieved. “Thank you, Oliver.”
“And thenleave, okay?”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. Thanks again.”
Scott hangs up. Seconds later, my phone rings again. This time, it’s Garrett.
“Hey, man,” I answer.
“Hey. I just realized I never sent you the restaurant name for tomorrow night. I’m driving so I thought I’d just—”
Fuck.“I totally forgot about dinner. I can’t make it.”
“No worries. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. All good. I just…something came up this weekend. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. Work’s been so hectic, and—”
“It’s fine, Oliver. No problem. I’ll move it to next weekend?”
“Sure. I’ll have to check with—yeah, that should be fine. I’ll let you know if not, okay?”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I shut off my phone and lean my head back, mentally berating myself. I can’t believe I forgot about dinner with Garrett. If I’d ever gotten around to inviting Quinn, I probably would have forgotten to let her know I couldn’t make it too, which is a terrible first impression. Or second, technically.
Work is always hectic, and I’ve stayed on top of the rest of my life just fine.
It’s Hannah—our marriage, our divorce, just us—that’s been occupying most of my time. I spent an entire day obsessing over a text message I sent her.
I’m distracted enough that it’s a surprise when we’re suddenly parked and climbing out of the car. I trail behind Hannah and Rachel, exhaustion and worry surrounding me like a haze.
The walls inside of Canyon are decorated by earthen murals. Meant to look like its namesake, I guess. The booths are brown leather, just a few shades darker than the paint. A long bar top runs along one wall, with tables scattered across the floor.
April heads for the bathroom as soon as we’re inside. Eddie and I take seats at an open booth, but Hannah and Rachel stay standing.
“We’re going to grab drinks,” Rachel says. “Usual, Eddie?”
“Yeah, thanks. And a ginger ale for April.”
Hannah glances to me. “What do you want?”
