And it didn’t help that I had few other close friends. Ever since he left, I threw myself into my job, dove down deep into it and refused to look up, because every time I did, I hated what I saw of myself. I was alone and bitter, though rich. I spent all my time making more money, but almost no time enjoying myself.
I was still young, and yet I acted like I was ancient.
Millie made me see that. Having her in my life made me realized how badly I wanted someone close. Lady Fluke was a good friend, but we were never close, not the way that I was with Desmond, and not the way that I am with Millie. The Lady meant a lot to me—she was one of my last friends. But I needed more, and I thought only Millie cold give that to me, only she had the slightest chance of making it happen at all.
“But he left all that for money,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”
“At the time, I was angry,” I said. “I felt like he was betraying me, in the same way that he thought I was betraying him by not giving him more power in the company. We couldn’t come together anymore, something got blocked between us. And it never recovered from there.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning forward, hand on my desk. I reached out on impulse and covered her hand with mine. “If that’s how you feel, why don’t you tell him that? Admit that you miss his friendship and say you want to patch things up.”
I laughed softly and shook my head. “I can’t do that,” I said. “I can’t trust him anymore. I’m not going to make myself vulnerable and have him stab me in the back all over again.”
“You’ll never heal what broke in you two if you can’t take the risk,” she said.
“Then maybe it’ll never heal.” I squeezed her hand and laced my fingers through hers. “Maybe that’s not so bad.”
She chewed on her lip then pulled her hand back and stood. I felt the absence of her fingers like a ghost on my palm. She stood, and I stared at her body, thinking about that night in the moonlight as she walked across my office, and over to her little table.
“If you want to call, I won’t stop you,” she said. “I still think it’s a mistake, but I’m glad you told me your reasons at least.”
I gave her a sad, tight smile, and picked up my phone. I pulled up the number Alvin gave me and stared at it for a long time. I hadn’t spoken to Desmond in so long, and suddenly I felt nervous, which was wild. I hadn’t felt nervous about anything in a long, long time.
I called it. Nothing happened, until several beeps came over the line, and a robotic voice repeated, over and over: The number you are trying to call has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again.
I gaped and slowly lowered my hand. Millie stared at me with confusion, then worry, and she leaned toward me. “What happened?” she asked.
Rage flared. True, red hot anger. I clenched my jaw and stared at my phone. I dialed the number again, and got the robot woman’s voice again. I slammed my phone down on my desk.
“Alvin fucked me,” I said, and pushed my chair back, grabbed my office line, and dialed his number.
19
Millie
In the relatively short time that I’d known Rees, I’d see him angry a few times. He always looked sort of pissed off, which was scary at first, but then I thought it was kind of sexy.
But I’d never seen him so pissed off before. He stood with his desk phone in his hand, practically trembling with rage. I walked back over to him and wanted to do something to help, but I knew I couldn’t calm him down, and couldn’t do much more than be there for him. I stared and chewed on my lip and thought of the story he’d just told me—about missing his friend, about wishing he could fix things, about money tearing him apart. I wondered if that happened to a lot of wealthy people, and guessed that it probably did. Money cause issues in the same way that it solved them. People were always people.
I wished he could have his friend back. I wished none of this were happening—except the part where we met, and started down this path together.
He grimaced at me, then jabbed a finger at the phone, turning on speaker. He put the receiver back down and stared with fury as it rang and rang, some phone in that tiny, rundown surf shop in San Francisco buzzing away, ignored, unanswered—until a voice appeared.