She had considered not showing up for work today, but her professional integrity wouldn’t allow that. She would work out her notice no matter how uncomfortable the environment might be. She was still pissed at Ricky, but she could be civil if she had to interact with him. She would let the uncomfortable awkwardness serve as her penance to herself for choosing to work with the Andersons instead of joining her own family’s practice in the first place.
A sigh escaped her. She really had made the wrong decision when choosing to work here. Hindsight and all that.
Opening the door to her office, she was struck by a strong fragrance. On her desk sat a gigantic floral arrangement. She groaned. The flowers were pretty, even if they were more suited for a funeral than an apology. Ricky had clearly not asked for help when selecting them. She could easily imagine him walking into a florist’s shop and deciding on the first gaudy basket he saw. She really should have never agreed to go out with him.
She plucked the card from the arrangement. Another meaningless apology. She dropped it in the trash. She didn’t believe his compunctious words, and she was not going to suffer in her tiny box of an office with the cloying floral fragrance. Picking it up by the white plastic handle, she headed back out of her office and took the elevator up to the admin level.
Arriving early had worked in her favor, and as she’d expected, reception was empty. Cecily always walked in at the last minute, so Camdyn hadn’t worried about seeing her, but she knew Ricky was in-house somewhere and she wanted to avoid running into him. His dad was probably here, too.
She found the large conference room empty and placed the basket in the center of the table. It looked gaudy there, too, but better than it had looked on her desk. Maybe they’d look better in the space if she removed the big satin bow.
“Good morning, Camdyn,” greeted a deep voice from the entryway. She spun around and found Richard leaning against the doorframe. He was a big guy, tall and stocky, but he had this grandfatherly look—a weathered face, white-gray hair, and a way about him that just made you feel comfortable. He was like Santa Claus.
“Good morning, Richard,” she replied.
He motioned towards the basket. “What’s the occasion for those? A parting gift?”
Camdyn smirked. “I guess you could call them that. Ricky left them for me, but they’re a bit too fragrant for my office space.”
He grimaced. “So you decided to share your good fortune with all of us?”
Not sure how to answer, Camdyn just looked at Richard while he shook his head. “Those look like they belong at a wake. His mother is going to be horrified to know that’s what he sent you.”
Camdyn couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped through at his comment.
Richard motioned her forward. “I always knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you forever. Come along, Miss Gallegos, let’s discuss your resignation in my office.”
She was going to miss working with this man.
CHAPTER 6
The lane is long, some one has said, that never turns again, And Fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men
– “Casey’s Revenge” by Grantland Rice, American sportswriter & poet
While Cal maneuvered them through the chaotic Monday afternoon traffic of downtown Phoenix, Javi stared out at the passing cars and buildings. It was nothing compared to the traffic mess of Miami but still congested enough that Javi was glad he didn’t have to focus on where they were going. His thoughts were too consumed with what he could do to help his mother and Lola.
Cal’s sister hadn’t been available yesterday afternoon, but she’d agreed to meet with them today in the coffee shop of the building where her law office was located. So they’d left straight from the practice facility to head there.
He had no idea what the cost of legal fees would be to help his mother get guardianship of Lola, but Javi was thankful he was in a position to help her make it happen. Six months ago, he would have had to take out a loan, and it was possible that he stillmight have to, but he was being paid well to play professional ball. He didn’t know how much these types of things cost, but he had no doubt that the Cuban government, and probably the US government as well, would make the process drawn out and horribly expensive. All the while, his poor cousin would be stuck in that orphanage.
Granted, the orphanage was nothing new to Lola. Her mother had worked there and they’d both lived on-site. It was technically the only home she’d ever known. While his aunt worked, Lola had been treated like the other children, schooling, dining, and playing with them. At the end of the day, she’d simply roomed with her mother instead of the other children. She didn’t know a different life, and it was possible she’d prefer to stay there, though that did not sit right with him. He needed to speak with his mother, and then they needed to speak with the Mother Superior of the orphanage, and finally Lola. He wanted her to know that her feelings about her life mattered, too.
As they pulled into the parking garage and descended the levels, Javi noticed that most of the people they passed were dressed professionally. Men and women in suits and business attire. He glanced at what he and Cal were wearing: T-shirts, athletic shorts, and flip-flops. He was immediately grateful that Cal’s sister had recommended meeting in the coffee shop and not an actual law office, because he felt out of place just parking in the garage.
After finding somewhere to park, Cal and Javi made their way to the coffee shop. It wasn’t one of the big-brand places, but it seemed pretty run-of-the-mill.
“I’ll grab that table, and you order us drinks,” directed Cal as they entered. “I don’t see my sister here yet,” he finished as he zoned in on a round four-top, its occupants packing up to leave. The place was popular, because all the other tables were either taken or too small for three.
“Sure. What do you want?” Javi replied. Buying coffee was the least he could do since Cal had arranged for this meeting and driven them.
“Something sweet and blended with ice. It’s too hot outside for a hot drink.”
It was a surprising response; his health-conscious friend was normally a water guy. Javi had seen him with a sports drink maybeonce. But he could understand Cal’s heat sentiment, even if the temperature didn’t bother Javi. Having been raised in South Florida, he’d drunk hot drinks in hot weather all his life. Unfortunately, he didn’t see a Café Cubano or a cortadito on the menu, so he ended up ordering two frozen mochas.
A few minutes later he had their icy drinks, and as he joined Cal at the table, his friend said, “My sister’s running late, but she just texted me and said she’ll be on her way down soon.”
“Ask her what she’d like to drink. I can go ahead and order it,” said Javi.
