“You all did so well with that last exercise. We have one last task, and then the lunch break. For this, you’ll be required to sit with your partner and learn more about each other.”
Great. I sighed and shifted in my chair. Weston didn’t look to happy, either.
“This exercise is called The Memory Game. You and your partner will face each other and share at least two separate memories you feel have shaped you into the person you are today. It can be whatever you choose, but the premise behind it is that the more we discover about each other, the more we learn that we share more similarities than differences.”
“Jesus, could this get any worse?” I heard Weston mutter to himself.
“Don’t worry, I’m not jealous about your European vacations or the sports car you got for your high-school graduation.”
Red-faced, his jaw worked hard, but he remained silent.
“After lunch, we have one final team-builder that will take up a good portion of the afternoon. We will split into four teams, and you’ll have a scavenger hunt. We’ve found that teamwork really does make the dreamwork, and this will help you forge good working relationships. You won’t be with the same partner you’ve had for these exercises.”
“Thank God.” It had only been a couple of hours, but it felt like an eternity.
“Oh, you’ll miss me when I’m gone,” Weston smirked.
Ignoring him, I pushed my chair away from the table. “Let’s get this done with. Two memories that shaped my life.” Defiant, I glared at him. “The first was hearing the stories about how when I was eighteen months old, I was taken from my mother in a drug raid and put in foster care.” There was so much more to that, but I’d choke rather than reveal my most intimate secrets.
Weston’s eyes blew wide with shock but, refusing to allow him to speak, I continued.
“The second was when my foster mother died in my first year of law school. It was just my father and me after that. I never knew what a family was until them.”
I couldn’t deny my curiosity and waited for Weston. He shrugged. “I mean, you already said. My European vacation where I got laid for the first time, and my car—a Mercedes coupe.” He winked. “Got all the hottest girls at school.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for me to answer, he left me sitting there, weighing the word salad he’d tossed at me. “That was a load of crap,” I mused as a phone vibrated on the table. Not mine—it was Weston’s. The screen lit up with a text message. Was it wrong of me to read it? Absolutely. But he’d left it face up and it wasn’t locked.
The text was from his father.
Listen, you ungrateful, worthless prick. I’m tired of putting up with your shit. You’d better show up primary night or we’re done.
“Is that my phone?”
I jerked around to see a furious Weston standing behind me. “Yes, I—”
“You what? Decided to read my personal messages because I said something shitty to you and hurt your feelings? Tit for tat?” Visibly shaking, he grabbed the phone out of my hands. “This is low even for you, Brenner. Fuck off. I’m done.” And he left.
It was lunchtime, and the group from my room joined the others for the lunch buffet the hotel had set up for us. I waited a few moments to gather my racing thoughts. Did that perfect life I’d imagined Weston sailing through, untouched by any nasty reality, actually not exist? Maybe Weston had constructed a fairy tale because the truth was too ugly. I might not have grown up ina typical family, but I did know that no loving father would ever talk that way to their child. A quick search on my phone brought up all the pertinent information.
The senator had remarried the same year Weston’s mother passed away, hence Weston’s likely resentment toward his father. Preston Lively and his wife, a very young woman, had a little girl. Scanning the videos, I saw no sign of Weston at Senator Lively’s victory parties at either his first, second, or third senatorial wins. In his last acceptance speech he only mentioned the support from his wife and how much he loved being a father to his daughter. No mention of Weston at all.
Looks like we both have things we’d rather bury than talk about.
People milled about the room set up for our lunch, talking in small groups or waiting in line to get their food. I made no attempt to find Weston, but after choosing a sandwich and taking some salad, I caught sight of him sitting with Grady and several other people. Many of the seats were filled, and I was never the type to insert myself in conversations, so I found a table with only two other people and sat.
“Ralph Bennett.” A moon-faced older man nodded to me. “Mergers and Acquisitions.” He took a bite of his food and chewed with gusto. “At least the food is good.”
“Not a fan of team building?” I asked with a grin. “Brenner Fleming, Family Law.”
“Never seen much point to it. People like who they like.” He shrugged and kept eating. “But they’re the experts. What do I know?”
The other man smiled. He was about my age, slim, with a head of dark curls and bright-brown eyes. “Manuel Ortega, Real Estate. Call me Manny. We did a lot of these at my old firm.I don’t mind them. Sometimes people surprise you. And you discover things about yourself.”
“I think you’re right. It’s good to learn about people and not make snap judgments.” I sipped my water. “How long have you each been with the firm?”
Ralph, who’d finished his food, wiped his mouth. “Four months. Came from the SEC. My wife’s been pushing me for years to go to the private sector and make some real money.” He chuckled. “She’s a partner at Sullivan and White and says she’s tired of being the breadwinner.”
They all laughed, and Manny seemed to hesitate before saying, “I’ve been here almost two months. My husband is a cardiology resident at New York Hospital. We’re working hard right now, trying to save up as much as we can to buy a house and then to have a baby. We weren’t sure if it was the right thing for me to buy into the partnership, but Johnny and I decided you never know if an opportunity to join a firm like this will come again. I was a fourth-year associate at Sheffield Brown, but they weren’t moving ahead to make me a partner. So I took the leap. How about you?”
