Page 2 of Escape Girl
“Manor Supply,” he sputtered. I cocked my head at him, my face purposefully blank. “We sell medical supplies,” he explained.
I snapped my fingers. “Like Vocida Industries?”
His eyes narrowed. “Vocida is one of our main competitors.”
I nodded. “I’ve heard of Vocida. Not Manor though.” Shrugging innocently, I let my voice go dry and just a tiny bit scathing. “Vocida must have a better marketing team.”
When his mouth dropped open, Gwen let out a huge, honking laugh. “You just got lawyered, Dad. Maybe you were right. Maybe this meetingwasa good idea.”
In spite of her mocking words, there was a note of care in her voice that I was happy to hear. Even happier when she stood and softly squeezed his shoulder. My chest twanged like a guitar string.
Father-daughter dynamics could be tricky, and I knew this particular one well. Sometimes career-focused fathers only knew one way to open a connection with their grown daughters—by talking about work. I rarely spoke to my own dad about anything else. It wasn’t a terrible way to connect, but often these powerful older men needed to be reminded thatlisteningis pretty key to relationships.
Mr. Meadows looked at Gwen’s hand on his shoulder and then up at her face, surprised, like they hadn’t touched in a very long time. “I didn’t know about the bank and the grocer,” he mumbled. “You never said anything.”
Well, of course not. Resentful daughters didn’t always feel the need to justify their life decisions.
Luckily, Gwen seemed intent on taking the high road now that he’d softened a bit. She tugged on his arm. “Can we please actually just go to lunch? I’ll tell you more about it.”
I walked them to the lobby, smiled until they got in the elevator and disappeared.Whew.Thank goodness they had only taken twenty minutes of my day. At last glance, my whole afternoon was blocked full with meetings, and I needed at least an hour to prepare for them.
I had to make time for a very personal conference call today as well.
The thought made my stomach roil, so I was glad when my assistant, Rosie, appeared and handed me a cup of my favorite black tea as we strolled back to my office. “Thank you!” I said. “I need the caffeine more than I need oxygen right now.”
“How late were you here last night?”
“I left a little after 1:00 a.m.”
“Early for you!” She mock-glared at me. “You’re a robot, right? Only a robot could function as many hours of the day as you do.”
“Not a robot.” I yawned, although I’d been called it many times in the course of my career.
Rosie grinned slyly at me, and I knew that look. She was a woman with a juicy secret. “What?” I demanded. The assistants were always the first to know everything.
“Breaking news! It has to do with that idea you proposed to the team last Thursday,” she hinted.
I felt a zing of excitement on the back of my neck. Last Thursday I’d presented a possible strategy for case settlement, but it was risky and I hadn’t expected the partners would actually go for it.
“Depositions are being canceled left and right,” she said. “Urgent email in your inbox. Your case is going to settle, baby.”
“Wow,” I breathed, hovering at the threshold to my office. “That’s unexpected.”
“Right?! Yay you!” she exclaimed, offering a fist bump that I fumbled returning. “Bets are already being taken on which high-profile case they’ll give you next. Girl, you’re gonna be running this place in a few years.”
“That’s the plan,” I said breezily. Rosie greatly appreciated my blatant ambition, which is one reason I greatly appreciatedher.
“So, some immediate schedule changes,” she started, holding up her tablet so I could see the calendar app. I nodded along, face serene and composed, but not really listening.
I was thrilled. Of course I was. This would be a huge boon for me so early into my tenure at this firm. Since I’d started, I’d proven I would work like a demon. But I hadn’t solely devised a case-winning strategy until now.
Huh.If the case was going to settle, all sorts of time in the very near future would free up. My afternoon, my evening, tomorrow, the day after that.
“You OK?” Rosie asked.
“Of course!” I chirped.
She waggled her eyebrows. “I bet the firm will throw a happy hour together to celebrate. They usually do on occasions like this. Probably Friday.”
