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"I'll have you know I'm almost three hundred and ten months old now."
He slaps his forehead at the reminder of my tendency to count my age in months. "I haven't missed that."
"Sure you have," I tease him. "It's charming."
"It's ridiculous," he scoffs affectionately.
"That's why you miss it, you need a little ridiculous."
"Yeah, a little. You bring it in spades." He gives me a fond smile and pulls me into his arms for a hug.
I give him a kiss on his cheek, and then slap him gently on the other side, feeling like the old us.
"I've gotta go. We'll have lunch next week. You're paying."
He stares at me open mouthed. "Nuh-uh. I didn't get a five hundred thousand pound bank account."
"I'm sorry, how much is your yearly salary here?"
"I work hard for that, freeloader!"
I laugh and run, jumping into my Uber, as he stands by the curb, hand on his chest, as he waves my goodbye.
Life might've been so much easier if Alex was the one that I wanted.
But he's not.
And nothing I can do can change that.
Because when I think about who I want to come home to, it's to the man I'm being taken to, and not the one I'm driving away from.
The drive back to Baxter Headquarters is spent mostly on mulling over some of the things Alex had said about my options for Hamilton Group.
With 26% of the shares of the company, as Ernest's daughter and with him as CEO, I could apparently honestly have my pick of jobs. Obviously, I'm uniquely qualified in the way that I am not qualified in any way. I couldn't even be an intern, and I don't have any illusions about that. But if Kingsley has taught me anything about the current business climate, and the way the Hamilton Group is structured with quite a diverse portfolio, I can find something, somewhere. I can create a position. Alex promised that he would remain completely open minded about it.
If that's what I want.
The problem is I don't know what I want. Not yet.
I also promise Alex that I would spend time shadowing him soon as well. To learn from him first-hand about Hamilton.
Now that we've talked out our issues, I don't have the same worries that I did about us spending too much time in close quarters.
Convincing Kingsley though, is a different matter.
Luna: On my way
Kingsley: Where are you? Luna, I told you I'd come pick you up.
Luna: I used this super futuristic contraption I just learned about, called a phone and it has this thing called an application,app for short. Where I can call a car to come and take me wherever I want to go for a small fee. it's quite miraculous
Kingsley: That's a lot of words for saying that you're in trouble
Luna: I could use more. Makes up for your lack of words.
Kingsley: Bend over so I can spank you. How's that for an efficient way of saying you're in trouble.
Luna: I think your last message got lost in a tunnel kghhrrrschkshfkhskhfkshkhfshkh
