“So, what do you think? I feel like we have them right where we want them. The location is ideal, and the building is sound. How can they say no? And if they do, I’ve got a dozen more reasons to convince them.”
Our food arrives, and it occurs to me that I’m not feeling the same energy Nate is. Sure, I agree that the deal is solid, and they’d be fools not to take it, the Lafayette building and the Orion Organization haven’t been on my mind since two o’clock today. And even then, I was distracted.
What has happened to me? Somehow, the job I used to love—no, the job I used to thrive on—has gotten mundane. Tedious. Perfunctory.
There’s no thrill in it anymore, which is absolutely ridiculous. This job used to run through my veins. It was what kept me going. Christ, I was almost an addict to the adrenaline rush, the thrill of acquiring a new company, the satisfaction of rehabbing a corporation that was drowning. I used to love the hectic pace of things; I never minded the constant meetings and crazy travel schedule because they meant that I was still in the game.
It’s hard to believe now, but that’s how Victoria and I met. Her dad and I worked for the same company, and she attended a charity fundraiser I was at. It sounds shameful now, but it made sense then: she fit the mold of a successful business man’s wife. She had great connections and socialized in the same circles I did.
But now, I feel so removed from all of that. I no longer want the frantic pace. And I definitely don’t want the trophy wife.
I used to live for that shit.
And now, It’s pissing me off, and I’m counting down the hours until I can hop on a plane and get back to Molly.
Well, back to Maryland.
Because of Molly…
Dammit.
She made the rules very clear, and I agreed to play by them, but damn if I can’t see myself spending a lifetime with this woman.
On paper, we’re compatible. We make sense.
And in person, we’re combustible.
I just hope she sees that, too.
Nate and I finish our meals in companionable silence. We settle the bill, and I praise his work for the day. “Those specs are spot on, Rinaldi. Why don’t you take the lead in the meeting tomorrow?” Such a move is virtually unheard of. I’m a senior VP; he’s, what? A year out of grad school? And we’re in a cut-throat field. What’s to say he’s not going to be gunning for my job in a year or less? Is it bad that thought doesn’t unnerve me the way it should? The kid’s got balls of steel and a mind for business. As much as it pains me to say it, his tenacity reminds me of myself at 25. Maybe it’s only right that I should act as a mentor.
“Mr. Madigan—Ev—”
I hold up my hand in protest. “Seriously. You take the lead, and I’ll be there to back you up, but you won’t need it. “
Nate’s face lights up like a kid’s on Christmas. He heads back to the hotel to prep for tomorrow, and I decide to take a stroll near the water, as though I haven’t just committed virtual career suicide.
Will my head be on the chopping block tomorrow? No. Will the office be abuzz about the fact I let my assistant lead such an important meeting? Probably not.
But have I lost my edge? Yeah.
Do I give a shit? No.
And that’s the real problem.
Before I realize what I’m doing, the dial tone buzzes in my ear, and I hear Molly’s sleepy “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous? Are you asleep already? It’s not much after nine.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep. One minute I was tuned into an episode ofSchitt’s Creek,and the next, I was passed out.”
“I’ll let you go,” I say, though I’m not sure there’s much sincerity in my tone. I turn toward the hotel and begin the short walk back.
She yawns. “No, I’m good. What’s up?”
It’s a fair question. I called her out of the blue, really. But it’s hard to put into words exactly why.
“Just wanted to hear your voice again. It’s been a weird day. Not bad, just weird.”
