He frowns and I can almost see his alcohol-soaked brain slowly processing what I’ve said.
“But Mellman’s? You don’t like the idea of working remotely?”
“Ha!” I guffaw embarrassingly loud and then hold down another burp. “I would love to work remotely. I hate offices and overhead lighting and meetings and all the…” I gesture around us and then at him.
“People?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m people?”
I chuckle. “Absolutely. But the alcohol is helping.”
“Damn, you’re mean. Here I thought we were becoming besties. So, go on then, why not remote?”
“Um, a remote job didn’t come up in time. Mellman’s needed someone urgently because one of their senior accountantsdecided at the last minute not to come back from paternity leave. So their offer was competitive.”
Please buy this. Please buy this.
After a beat, it appears he does. I think I have alcohol to thank for that. And maybe tomorrow he’ll look at the Mellman’s records and see what a big fat fibber I am but that’s a problem for Tomorrow Janie. Tonight Janie is relieved to have at least told someone some part of the truth.
“Can I ask what happened to your parents?” he asks gently.
“Dad died, mom left. When my brother and I were babies.”
“I’m sorry, Janie. That’s a shit hand you were dealt.”
“Yup,” I pop the p. “But Ishowed my cards.Your turn.”
“Clever,” his eyes dance with mine in a warm and fuzzy way that feels dangerous. And is it just the booze or does he truly look like a bona-fide movie star? How is a real person this handsome up close? If only his personality was as lovely and not so…over the top.
I suck down more water.
He inhales and then lets out his reply, “Your brother’s a wanker. My father’s a wanker too. Pissed at me that I’m just a…what did you call me earlier? Something about being handsome.”
“Pretty,” I correct.
“Tomato, Tomahto. He kept warning me that I had to get serious. Be serious. Settle down, find a place in the enterprise. I’m not technically on the payroll.”
“Seriously? Like I was teasing? You don’t have a job?” I choke on my drink.
“Of course not, I have a trust.” He pretends to be offended.
“Oh right, the trust.”
“Right.”
“But, you said you have a P.A…” I think aloud.
“Doesn’t everyone?” His grin fades and he stares at the sleek counter top where our drinks rest. “PA personal, not EA, executive. I just pop around having fun, usually at a resort or attraction we own. My P.A. manages my calendar, books flights, reservations. All personal things. But as for the business, I’ve never been…actuallyinvolved.Dad kept warning me and harping at me. I always ignored it.” He pauses and takes a sip of his beer. “Until last week.”
“When he…? I’m on the edge of my seat, man,” I push him.
“Sent over legal documents, contracts that I apparently signed myself. I vaguely remember it. Anyway, if I don’t…ugh, if I don’t take up a senior executive position, I’m out.”
I relax, “Oh, that doesn’t seem so bad, just pick a job.”
“It’s not just that. He’s quote ‘grown tired’ of my reputation. I also signed paperwork that stipulates I’m out if…if I don’t get married.”
