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Conner laughs. “Yeah, I’m back for a while. I received a few threats from my parents last spring after I extended my trip by two weeks and then spent half the summer in Europe.”
“They need their shipping tycoon of a son to come back and run the business full-time now.”
“Basically. My dad needs to hit the links again. Ever since he retired in July, he gets irritable if he has to miss his Friday golf game.”
“So you’re working today?”
“That place runs itself. You want to get some lunch?”
“It’s nine thirty in the morning.”
“Yeah, but the diner is always open.”
I look at the bagel in my hand and debate momentarily. “I’ll meet you at the diner in twenty.”
Conner is already seated in a booth by the window when I arrive. I toss my little bagel bag down and slide in across from him. “Were you even at the office when you called?”
“No. I was here, but I have my laptop.”
“So you’re running a multimillion-dollar business from a diner and a laptop?” I wave at Shirley, our regular server, and she starts pouring the orange juice she knows I’m going to order.
Conner shrugs nonchalantly. “I didn’t ask to run my family’s business.”
“But you did accept the job.”
“No, I was forced into the job.”
“Forced?” Hm. “You sure don’t mind living off the money the business brings in.”
“Same old argument, Charlie. Get over it. You could’ve been running your family’s biz, but you walked away. Now you sound bitter. What gives?”
“Not bitter,” I start, glancing at a customer settling in nearby. “Just simple observations I’ve made.”
“Changing the subject because this one bores me. Fill me in on what I missed these last few months.”
“Not much—”
“Jada said you missed her last three parties.”
“When did you talk to her?” he asks.
“Last week in Atlantic City.”
“Jada in Atlantic City? I thought she didn’t gamble anywhere but Monte Carlo.”
He laughs. “She made an exception for me.” He points two fingers at me accusingly, and says, “You, my friend, are causing the ladies all sorts of stress.”
Shirley sets my drink down along with my toast. I don’t have to order here anymore. She knows my selection already. Ordering the same thing almost weekly for five years makes it pretty obvious. “Thank you.”
Her face is pleasant as she stands ready, coffeepot in hand. “You’re welcome, Charlie. All good?”
“Yep. All good, and you?”
“Same old, same old. Enjoy your food.”
Conner is now reading e-mails. I don’t know if they’re personal or business, so I pick up our conversation where we left off. “I’m not stressing the ladies out. They’re stressing themselves out.”
“I get it, Chuck. Everyone does. You didn’t want everything handed to you.” His voice turns mocking. “You wanted to ‘make it’ on your own and prove your parents wrong. It’s all very admirable and blah, blah, blah, but what gives on the social scene? What did we do to offend?”
I started staring out the window around the quoted “make it” line.
Since I remain silent, he says, “Dude, I’m not trying to hassle you here. It’s just, what’s going on with you?”
“Just because I don’t go to a party doesn’t mean I’m not living life.”
“No, but it’s not just Jada’s party. It’s also Jenn’s last month and Susi’s last week. You’re stepping back again. Why?”
I feel defensive, although he has every right to ask. He’s my one friend from the old days I talk to on a regular basis, the only one who supported my decision back then. “Same reason I wanted out in the first place. I don’t like to stand around and talk about a fashion show some girl attended, and I don’t care about the party the weekend before out in the Hamptons. I don’t care about that stuff, and they don’t care about what I’m doing. I found myself reevaluating what I consider a good time, and I figured out it’s not those people.”
“Then what people are living up to your standards these days?”
“It’s not like that, and you know it. You make it sound like I’m the snob.”
“And you’re not?”
“I don’t owe anybody anything, Conner.”
“You’re right, you don’t. As your friend, I’m curious as to what’s going on. I see the changes in you. I saw the change before I left—the moodiness, the unenthusiastic attempts at parties, all of that. Now that I’m back, I see even more changes. Is it Justin?”
I scoff out loud. “Justin? Justin can be entertaining, but he’s doing what I did at twenty-one. I’m not looking to revisit those days again. It’s fun every once in a while, but my liver appreciates not having to work that hard.”
Our breakfast is served, and everything seems to calm between us as we eat.
I know he’s going to give me shit about this, but I still feel the need to say something. I brace myself for the taunts I know are coming and say, “I met a girl.”
