“Oh.” She tapped her fingers against her phone. “Okay, well that’s now handled. Second thing, you’ll need to read over these contract amendments and sign off on them by tomorrow. Speaking of amendments, the last time we spoke ...”
I tuned out her voice and sipped my coffee as she spoke a mile a minute. Without giving her my full attention, I knew that every other phrase that fell from her lips was “speaking of that contract,” “I need you to sign this” or “Oh! Now, this one is really time sensitive.” By the time she finally stopped talking, an entire hour had passed.
“You went over by forty minutes,” I said, standing. “Whatever we haven’t discussed will have to wait. Hopefully, both of us will still be alive by then.”
She laughed. “Fine. Just make sure you’re all packed for your class reunion at The University of Pittsburgh. You’ll need three suits at most, something to wear on a golf course, and your old college jersey, of course. Delta Airlines has promised to leave two first class seats open on all their NYC to Pitt flights for tomorrow, so no need to feel rushed.”
“What?” I raised my eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your class reunion. It’s this Tuesday night.”
“Since when do college classes have seven-year reunions?” I asked.
“When your class is full of achievers, I guess.” She handed me an ivory envelope.
I opened the invitation and instantly remembered when she’d first given it to me months ago, when I agreed to “do whatever they needed me to do.”
I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.
“They want you to give two speeches,” she said. “One before the fireworks, and one at the farewell ceremony. I’ve made a draft of both speeches, a list of additional things you may want to touch on, and a photo collage of your college memories that you may want to look over while we fly. You’re welcome.”
“I don’t recall saying thank you.” I shook my head and returned the invitation. “I’m not going to this. Get me out of it now.”
“Grayson.” Her face paled. “Surely, you know how terrible it will look if you back out of this the day before. You’re the surprise, special guest speaker.”
“I don’t care.” I walked away from her. There was only one person who would make me consider going to that reunion, and since she never came to any alumni events I’d attended over the years, I didn’t need to waste my time. “Tell them something came up. You can also tell them that I’m more than willing to address the crowd via Skype.”
“Grayson, listen.”
“I didn’t stutter.” I kept my voice firm. “End of discussion.”
"Okay." She stood to her feet. "Well, now that you're not going to the reunion, I guess we can get your contract renewal with Nike out of the way. I'm having lunch with a few of their team members tomorrow, and I can make that happen, if so."
“Sure.” I officially gave up on the idea of her ever knowing and accepting when a meeting was ‘over.’
“Great! I’ll let myself out.” She slipped into her heels and headed toward the door.
I walked over to the spot where I’d thrown my phone and picked it up, somewhat surprised it was still in one piece. Before I could call my doorman and tell him that Anna was not an exception to my “call me first” rule, I heard her clearing her throat.
“Yes, Anna?”
“I wanted to ask you one last thing,” she said. “Did you see the note about Charlotte Taylor?”
“What?” I turned around. “What did you just say?”
“Charlotte Taylor.” She shrugged and held up the invitation. “There was a little note on the back about her. Did you see it?”
I didn't answer. I rushed over and took the card from her hands. Flipping it over, I spotted a handwritten note in faint purple ink:
Grayson,
I hope all is well with you. I know we haven't spoken in quite a while, but between you and me ...
Charlotte Taylor RSVP’d for this reunion a few weeks ago.
I thought you would want to know.
—Nadira
I stared at the note for several seconds, feeling my blood boil with each written word.
I hadn’t heard from Charlotte since I graduated college. I’d spent thousands of dollars looking for her the first year she left me, and all I ever found were confirmations that she’d moved overseas, started a new life, and married someone who wasn’t me.
Just the mere mention of her name was bringing back all the memories of what we once had. What we once swore would never come to an end.
To this day, I’d never loved anyone the way I loved her. Hell, I honestly hadn’t “loved” anyone since her because no other woman ever compared, and it still made me angry whenever I remembered that she never had the decency to give me a damn goodbye.