AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Stunning, isn’t it? William was told it couldn’t be done, but he refused to believe it. He insisted he just had to find the right person to make it happen,” she says. Before I can ask who did the work, she continues, “Catherine, lovely to see you again. I’m absolutely delighted about the coverage you’re getting for Nestrogen.”
I can feel Catherine relax. “I’m so glad.”
Mrs. Power leads us to a living room with a wet bar. Will greets us with an offer of “red, white, or hard?” He subtly tilts his head toward a bottle of Glenfiddich with a “30” on the label.
Hell, yeah! Catherine obviously catches the look, too, since we say in unison, “Scotch, please. No ice.”
Mrs. Power scoffs. “You’re replacing that bottle, Will.”
With drinks in-hand, we’re directed to sit on a love seat. Catherine and I are pressed close together, so I put my arm around her back to make more space for her shoulder. We find a comfortable position and catch up with the conversation which seems to be focused on Mrs. Power’s frustration that she’s sixty-five years-old with four adult sons who seem to have made it their life purpose to not give her the pleasure of grandchildren to spoil.
“Eric, how old is your son now?”
“He’s twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one. Wouldn’t you love to have another?”
I bark out a laugh. “Uh, not on your life. Diaper days are done for me.”
“Hmph.” She purses her lips and wrinkles her brow like I’d answered wrong. She turns to Catherine with a smile and a nod. “And how’s Sammy? Missing their mom?”
“Please! As long as there’s money in their bank account to cover food and rent, I’d say I’m an afterthought in their life right now. Which is perfect. We want our kids to build lives independent of ours, right?”
There’s a pregnant pause, and Mrs. Power breaks it with a clap of her hands. “Well, you’re a fine couple, aren’t you?”
I turn to Catherine.
“We kind of are, aren’t we?” she asks.
“We really are.”
CHAPTER12
Catherine
We’re at exactly the half-way mark of our six-weeks of forced proximity life, if you consider being true to a bet as forced. But even if one of us quit early—if Eric stopped spending his days learning how to live a life confined by circumstance or I stopped getting into his Tesla each day at six to accept the trials of living with and sharing a bed with a lover every night—the revised consequences for the bet I lost would still stand.
It’s said that it takes just twenty-one days to form a habit and until this experiment, I’d have argued that was baloney. But Eric has become a habit I’m quite happy to have. Which messes with my head, since this isn’t how I expected the experiment to go. This isn’t my life. It’s a blip. A Texas-sized blip, mind you, but still just a wrinkle that will flatten back out over time.
That’s the thought in the back of my head as I make my way to the Will Power Hour podcast studio. Today’s the day we’re recording the livestream, as promised to Maureen. I’ve not got the best mindset today, but I’ve been listening to The Will Power Hour podcast for years. I know the pattern and rhythm of how he guides the conversation, so I’m still relatively relaxed.
Talking about art and purpose is my passion and something I don’t need to prepare for.
“Good morning, Ms. Clay.” A sparkling energy greets me as I step off the elevator. “Mr. Power is in the green room. Please follow me to hair and make-up.”
I stop walking and she doesn’t notice until she’s at the door down the hall.
“Ms. Clay, this way, please.” Her voice is low and she motions for me to come to her.
I shake my head—a head of clean hair that does not need to be styled with sprays or a stranger’s brush, thank you very much.
She comes back to me. “It’s a livestream. The room has studio-like lighting. Without a touch of make-up, you’ll look washed out, like a vampire. You won’t want that.”
I stand agog that this twenty-something executive assistant, or whatever she is, has the gall to tell me what I want.
“Thank you for your opinion, but I’ll pass. I’m fine with the way I look.”
She shrugs and motions for me to follow her down the same hallway. She opens a door across from the make-up room and invites me in.
