We didn’t sleep much, so it doesn’t count. You and Savannah will be the first.
Me:
I mean, when or if or whatever, I’m not pushing.
Claudia:
I spoke with Matteo. I believe Arthur tried. I don’t hate him. What I hate is that it will hurt Paul.
Me:
We won’t. We’ll figure it out.
Claudia:
Good day?
Me:
Yes. I know it’s a good day because he asks for his watch.
Claudia:
The meeting?
Me:
Ten. Which is a good time for him typically.
Claudia:
Please keep me in the loop. I worry about you and your safety.
Me:
Always.
“We’re going to be late,” Dad says mildly, glancing at his wrist. Not confused. Teasing. Grounded.
“We’re always early,” I tell him.
He nods, satisfied. “Good. Shall we go?”
In the elevator, he asks if I’ve spoken to Claudia; he remembers she was here last night and her name.
“We text every day,” I tell him.
“Good. Don’t stop doing that.”
The elevator stops, and we exit. Everyone’s shock at seeing him makes my heart soar for him.
“Morning, everyone. How are we today?” He asks the question he always has.
And they respond the way they always have, “It’s a good day.”
“My favorite kind of day,” he chuckles as we walk to the boardroom.
It’s not just a good day. It’s one of the best. This is my father, Arthor Fairfax, my hero as long as I can remember.
