“We’ve invested too much money to have it fall apart now,” I express, firmly. “This could be disastrous.”
“You’re telling me,” he almost grits. “I’ve got legal on this and need you to be on standby this week. I know you are flying back to London on Thursday, but you may need to fly to Geneva to sort this out.”
“Of course,” I tell him, making a mental list of what I need to do. “I’ll rearrange and shift some projects to make sure we don’t fall behind on anything.”
“Thank you. Fucking asshole.”
“Listen, Lex, it’s just after midnight for you. Get some sleep, and when you’re back in the office on Monday, I’ll have a contingency plan drawn up.”
“Sleep?” His soft laugh echoes through the phone. “What’s that foreign concept?”
“Charlie told me Addison has been a terror of late. Climbing into your bed in the middle of the night.”
“There’s nothing more terrifying than waking up in the middle of the night with your child standing next to you, just staring.”
I laugh at the thought. “I guess those horror movies have worked against you. I’m sorry to hear it. Hopefully, she’ll outgrow it soon.”
“
Either that or we’re adopting her out… how about you take her?” he jokes half-heartedly.
“Hey, I’m good for short-time babysitting. You know my stance on having kids.”
We say goodbye but not before Lex unloads other concerns that need my attention. It isn’t unusual for him to contact me at all hours, or more specifically—the weekend. Together, we’re a well-oiled machine. Despite his attempt to slow down, Lex is and will always be a workaholic.
The European market is entirely different than back in the States. More money to play with, therefore, more greedy assholes trying to fuck us over.
I finish my coffee and chouquette, then decide to take the more extended route home to clear my head before heading into the office despite it being Sunday.
Five hours later, I’ve drunk way too much caffeine and completely missed eating lunch. My nerves have become jittery, but I manage to get things sorted so Lex can breathe easier. When I look at the clock, I notice the time and reminder on my phone.
Reminder: Blind Date—Gustave.
I let out a frustrated groan, cursing at myself as to why I agreed to this in the first place. Just when I think of an excuse to bail, my phone rings, and it’s the devil herself—Mrs. Matchmaker.
“Don’t bail on this,” Charlie scolds without a greeting.
“What are you? A clairvoyant now?” I answer abruptly, straightening my posture to stretch my tense muscles. “In case you don’t know, something has come up with work.”
“Not an excuse. I know for a fact you’ve been emailing Lex documents, therefore, you’re on top of your work, and it’s Sunday night. You owe me this.”
Clenching my jaw, I close my eyes to calm my irritation. I agreed that once a year, Charlie is allowed to set me up on a blind date. When I consented to this, I recall being drunk on rum and Coke, combined with being sexually charged. But, of course, Charlie, with her overbearing ways, has held me to it.
The only reason I agreed to this date tonight is that last year’s blind date wasn’t too bad. Maxim was lovely and very good-looking. We went on four dates until he dropped the ball mid-dinner—he’s bisexual and was looking to have an open relationship. We remained friends and still catch up for drinks every few months. On our last catchup, he introduced me to his new boyfriend, Youssef. The two of them are a match made in heaven and are fun to unwind with.
Charlie apparently met Maxim back in LA at some fashion event. When she found out he lived in Paris, and knowing I have been single forever, she put two and two together.
“Fine,” I complain, opening my eyes. “Can you tell me more about Gustave?”
“No, because every time I tell you something, you forget anyway or use it as an excuse not to go.”
“I do not.”
“Just go on the date and report back later,” she coaxed, then quickly cheers, “Good luck.”
“Since you’re the one setting me up, I’m going to need it.”
***