“Yeah, it sounds like she gave you just enough rope to hang yourself.”
“That was my read on it too.”
“Shit. I’m sorry about this. I meant for you to take my job, but in a couple of years when you had some more experience under your belt, when they wouldn’t axe you for one false move. I told Hannah that you aren’t going to be doing anything that I haven’t expressly sanctioned, but the thing with Ethan Quicke really got the board’s shorts in a twist.”
“I appreciate that, but we both know it won’t matter.”
“We’ll get you another gig.”
“Yeah,” I agree, though I’m not sure it’ll be as easy as that.
And it definitely won’t be easy if I’m hooking up with our manager.
“Okay, well, when’s the meeting?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“First?”
“First.”
“Fucking Dan Wilson.”
“I agree.”
Stew laughs again. “And how’s our boy?”
“Your boy?” I correct, and Charlie’s head perks up from his conversation with Javy. “He’s here.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“Avery,” I call out, the last name now a little unfamiliar on my tongue. “You’ve got someone who’d like to talk to you.”
He pushes up from his chair, swatting at whatever Javy said to him as he does, and I hold out the phone.
“Hey, Skip,” he says and I grin, remembering those boys in Arizona who already call him that. “What’s up? How’re you feeling?”
Standing beside me, he’s listening to Stew intently and I fold my legs beneath me, turning back toward my laptop where my meeting notes are still sitting, waiting to be reviewed for the billionth time.
“Yeah, she’s doing great,” Charlie says, and I diligently ignore that they’re talking about me, all while my eyes fail to take in any of the words on the screen. “I’ll remind her. Tell Rita I’ll be over for dinner when we get back and I’ll drag Frankie along too. Okay, go get some rest, old man.”
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing lightly.
“He sounds good, right?” I say, when he offers the phone back to me.
“He does, really good. He’ll be back before we know it.”
“But not soon enough to do this.”
“No, definitely not. Would you really even want him to?”
“Is it bad if I say no?”
“No,” Charlie replies, shaking his head, his thumb stroking at the nape of my neck, catching on the collar of my shirt . . . his shirt. “Because you got this. I know you do. What else do you need from me . . . from us?”
“Nothing. We’re ready. We’ve been ready. It’s just a matter of waiting now.”
“And waiting’s the worst.”
