I start dicing the tomatoes and onion. “Yeah…” My stomach twists. “Yesterday, Sulli said her first word and Daisy was in the shower.” We decided that dada and mama sound too much like noises than words, so we agreed her first one would be something else.
She was waiting to hear our daughter say her first word. This has been on her fucking mind.
Realization washes over my brother’s sharp features. “That’s it?”
“She doesn’t want to fucking miss anything like that, and she missed it.” I hate feeling like I took something from Daisy. I want to give her everything in this entire fucking world.
“What was the word?”
“Are you serious?” I glower. “That’s not fucking important in all of this.”
“It was ‘fuck’ wasn’t it?” He almost starts laughing.
I toss a dishrag at his face. “Fuck you. And yeah, so what if it was fuck?” A growl sticks to my throat and I dice these fucking onions more forcefully.
“Lily owes me fifty bucks, that’s why,” Lo retorts.
I’m not surprised they bet on my kid. We’ve bet on theirs for fun too. “No, Lily doesn’t, not if I never fucking mention this to Daisy…” I trail off at his grimace. “What?”
“Don’t lie, man. Take it from someone who is a world-renowned liar, you don’t want to do it here. It might be the easier thing, but it’s not goddamn better.”
Yeah.
Yeah, I know.
“She’ll be happy it happened at all,” he tries to assure me. “You’re overthinking this.”
“Yeah…I probably am,” I mutter. I nod to him. “Thanks. I’ll fucking tell her.” And then I stupidly rub my fucking eyes with my onion-juiced fingers. “Motherfucker.” My eyeballs scald and sting. I sprint to the fucking sink, turn on the faucet, and stick my head underneath it.
I rinse my eyes quickly and only relax when water gushes across them.
Lo pops another chip into his mouth. “I take it back. This social isn’t half-bad.”
I flip him off.
Hopefully we’ll be saying the same exact thing when Connor arrives.
{ 9 }
January 2019
Cobalt Inc. Offices
Philadelphia
LILY HALE
Why am I always in charge of making sure Connor doesn’t flee his birthday party?
I text Lo.
I need an explanation because this duty seems too important for someone like me. For his 28th and 29th birthdays, Connor never actively tried to leave the country on January 3rd, but still, someone more astute and capable should be the watchdog.
Like Rose or Ryke.
I have talents. I know I do, but being responsible for a certified genius going from point A (his work) to point B (the party) is not one of them. The genius will outwit me.
I bite my nails, my nerves rocketing. No one understands how much pressure is attached to this one task. If Connor doesn’t show up to his party, that’s on me.
I ascend the Cobalt Inc. elevator to his office. and squeeze my hands beneath my pits to stop biting my nails. I mutter to myself, “You look like Mary Katherine Gallagher from Superstar.” I will not sniff my hands like that SNL character. Nope. Not happening.
While I’m alone on this elevator, I keep muttering encouragements. “Rose insisted that he won’t bail, and you believe her, don’t you?” I nod. Rose wouldn’t lie to me. “You have instructions. You know what to do, Lily Hale.”
I nod more confidently.
The instructions: Bring Connor Cobalt to Ryke and Daisy’s cottage for a surprise party.
Rose’s disclaimer: Don’t fuck up.
So she didn’t say that outright, but her narrowed eyes contained too many punishments and threats. I was sweating when she just told me to get in the car. Shit, I’m definitely still sweating. I waft my plain black long-sleeve shirt, my black coat two sizes too big but it warms my legs. I’m not dressed properly for Cobalt Inc. since I just wear boots and leggings as bottoms, but I don’t think Connor will care.
I did remember to wash my hair today, so there’s that.
My phone pings just as the elevator doors whoosh open.
Because you’re the best at it, love – Lo
Riiiight. I don’t believe him, not even a little bit.
I step out of the elevator and then notice an incoming second text.
And he’ll feel too guilty to ditch you – Lo
Would Connor feel badly about deserting someone like me? Maybe. He was my tutor before he was my friend, and even Connor Cobalt the Tutor wouldn’t abandon me if I needed him.
And I do need him.
I need him to behave and follow my orders.
My nose crinkles. This’ll be interesting.
I pocket my phone and search for Connor through the hallways. People busily bustle around, dressed in suits and pin skirts. All walk with purposeful strides, no one really loiters. I’d say this floor resembles the offices in Mad Men, but there’s no smoking or alcohol and there are more male receptionists and females in their own offices.
I try to be a fly on the wall, but as I head towards Connor’s corner office, eyes latch onto me. The gold nameplate on his door reads: Connor Cobalt, CEO of Cobalt Inc.
Just before I grab the knob, a man in a sleek navy suit and skinny tie slips in front of me, extending his arm to physically block me out of the way. I’m forced to take two steps back.
“Excuse me,” I mutter. I straighten up and wait for him to move aside. Channel your inner Rose Calloway Cobalt. I silently repeat the mantra: I am a fortress. I am a shark. No one will fuck with me.
I clear my throat. “Excuse you.” I wince at myself. Would Rose have said that? “I mean…” I shake my head. “I’m here to see Connor.”
He brushes his fingers through his salt and peppered hair. “You see the glass walls?” Then he gestures to the walls right beside us like I’m dumb. Of course I see them. “See how they’re frosted?” Yes, I can’t see into them. Cobalt Inc. has electronic frost to add a little privacy.
Hale Co. offices don’t have that.
I once asked Rose if she’s ever had sex with Connor in his office. I’m still really proud of the moment because I didn’t stammer or flush.
She said, “I’ll tell you but you can’t act like it’s ground-breaking and you can’t tell Loren. This is a sister thing.”
“I promise.” We pinky-promised. I refused her blood pact offer, which involves cutting our palms.
“Yes,” she said, “we’ve had sex in his office.”
I couldn’t stop smiling because she did something that I haven’t done yet. Though I have had sex in the Halway
Comics office, but it’s not a giant corporation like the other Fortune 500 companies.
And I’ve upheld our promise to this day. I plan to take it to my grave.
The man suddenly waves his hand in my face.
Oh shit. How long has he been doing that? I spaced out. Connor’s frosted walls reminded me of sex. Everything reminds me of sex. Can he tell?
I know he can’t. It’s all in my head. I try to remember this.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks.
I nod. “These are frosted walls.”
“Which means that he’s in a meeting.”
Oh.
I didn’t prepare for this. “I can wait.”
He does this head-tilt thing. “How about you come to my office? I have a couch you can sit on while you wait.” His gaze never deters from mine, thankfully, but this small gratitude doesn’t erase his lustful expression, completely full of wrongdoings.
I’d like to say this happens far less than it does, but most people will see me and think oh, there’s that sex addict. A select, sleazy few view this as an invitation to hit on me, believing I’ll welcome their advances with wide-open legs and a bed.
The sleazy few tend to be entitled, affluent men. I thought that I’d be free of them around Connor’s office, only because he said that he’s strict about drug testing his employees. I realize now that my logic makes no sense. A person doesn’t have to snort coke to be a corrupt asshole.
And some people with money believe they possess limitless power over others.
Even over me.
My skin crawls. “I’m okay here.” I assess my surroundings, not sure where here is. An empty receptionist desk sits about two feet away. I sink into the robust chair, claiming this seat for now.
It’s what Rose would do.
Instead of taking the hint, the man slides onto the sleek desk. Right in front of my chair. His ass knocks into a business card holder, and his foot almost brushes me.
I go rigid, my eyes swerving left and right. It’s official: I hate Connor’s offices.
And his crotch—his crotch is eyelevel, and his fly is half open. I can’t tell if that’s on purpose or if he forgot to zip up after a bathroom break. Stop looking there!
I’m trying. I’m really trying.