“Why is Reagan monitoring my social media?”
“She’s not. She just happened to see it and called your mom. Said it was a long time since she’d seen you out partying on a weeknight, and she was feeling stressed because it made her think of the bad old days. Wanted Mom to have me check on you. According to Roger, your sister was right to worry.”
“That show is not why I’m tired.”
“You’re sticking with plain old insomnia?”
I don’t say anything. I’m not going to double down on the lie.
“You embarrassed the firm this morning, Josh. And when it’s you, it’s a direct reflection on me. I had to fight the partners of myownfirm to hire you, convincing them that your last year of law school was proof you were ready. And now this.”
All of it stings. I screwed up, but he’s making it sound like it was inevitable. “I made a mistake this morning,” I say, but before I can finish, he jumps in, describing my error in much more profane terms.
I press my lips together and take a deep breath through my nose. “That’s fair,” I say. “I didn’t sleep enough. I made an autofill error, not an operational or process error. This is my first mistake in three years.Three, Dad. I get my work done well and on time. Early, when I can pull it off. I come early. I stay late. I’ve never made a procedural error, never gotten a document wrong. No one has been able to criticize my work ethic or my work product.”
“Until right now. Until today, when you decided that you would stay out and party on the night before an important meeting, the first you’ve been given lead on since becoming a third-year. And that choice—a choice that never once served you well in college—nearly sank a huge account for us.”
There’s nothing to say here. If he doesn’t want to weigh that against three years of near perfection, I can’t make him. Instead of arguing, I say, “Yes, sir. I understand.”
He sits back, studying me like he’s waiting for another protest. I meet his eyes and say nothing.
Finally, he sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. “Only our relationship is saving you right now. Some of the partners never wanted you here, and if you make a mistake of this magnitude again . . .”
“I understand.” I have only the barest hold on my emotions right now, and that’s all I can say. The exhaustion of so little sleep, the stress of the meeting this morning, the disappointment—and worse, resignation—in my dad’s eyes, like he always knew it would come to this, is more than I can handle at the moment.
“I have another meeting.” He nods at the door, dismissing me.
I walk across the huge expanse of his carpeted office, his look ofI knew itgnawing at me. At the heavy walnut door, I hesitate, turning before I open it. “Dad?” He glances up, looking almost as tired as I feel. “I’m sorry.”
I think I see a tiny flicker of surprise cross his face before he simply nods, and I slip out the door.
Aconversationlikethatwith my dad used to send me straight into a streak of bad behavior. Doubling down, I guess. I’d head right out to the clubs and bars and stagger back to my dorm near dawn or sometimes not at all. Didn’t matter that he didn’t see me do it; it was enough to know it would make him angry if he did. Those choices always ended up showing up in average grades or blown commitments.
I can’t screw up this day any more than I already have, so instead of staying until ten o’clock, I leave at five-thirty to get home when Sami does. I want to see her. I need to see her.
When I pull into my space, hers is empty. No problem. It’s about ten degrees colder today than it has been for the last week, but I head inside, drop my backpack, and collapse on the sofa to text her.Hey. I’m home already. Come over when you get here? I left the back door open.
Instead of a text back, a few minutes later I hear the sliding door and pull myself upright as she comes in, still in scrubs. They’re pink, and she looks adorable.
“Hey,” she says, walking toward me. “You’re home early. Everything okay?”
As soon as she’s within reach, I pull her into my lap and settle her against my chest. “It is now.” Her hand rests over my heart, like she’s monitoring its beats. The tension drains from my body as it becomes more aware of her softness.
“Want to tell me about it?” she murmurs after a while.
“I blew something important at work. My dad wasn’t thrilled. I got a lecture like I haven’t heard in a long time. It sucked. The end.”
She tilts her head back to meet my eyes and reaches up to brush at my hair like she wants to push it out of the way, but it’s not long enough for that. Warmth spreads through my chest as I realize she’s just looking for new ways to touch me. “You going to be okay?”
I sigh. Probably. After some sleep. But if I say that, Sami will insist I go to bed and leave, and right now, she is the only thing in this crap sandwich of a day that is good and right. “I reset the clock today,” I tell her. “I wiped out three years of perfect behavior with a stupid mistake. So tomorrow, I start over on day one.”
She stirs, like she wants to put some distance between us. “You’ve been coming to every show. You don’t have to do—”
But I’m already shaking my head. “Let me decide how I want to spend my time, Sami.”
She stills, settling back against my chest before I feel her nod. “Okay. But you should know, I’m prioritizing the band right now. Things are starting to simmer, and I can’t take my eye off it. It’s okay for you to prioritize work too.”
I consider her words. “Does that mean we’re only going to spend time with each other by luck?” Because that isn’t what I want. The last long-term girlfriend I had was in high school, and I don’t know much about how dating works as a mature adult, but I know I want something more from Sami than being fit in where she can. At the same time, I understand her priorities, because I’m going to have to do the same thing if I want to show my dad I’m taking my job seriously.
