Page 112 of That Conflicted Feeling
Heleans into my ear. “IsCharlottehere?Orcoming?”
Ah, so it’s my assistant he’s been looking for. “No.Iinvited her, seeing as how she organized so much of it.Butshe’s at some event to do with her boyfriend’s job.”
“Shehas a boyfriend?She’snever mentioned a boyfriend.”Theblood drains fromElliot’sface, then surges back to just two spots, one on each cheek, which stand out bright red against the fair skin around them.
“Yeah, for a couple of yearsIthink.”Howcould he not know that?He’soutside my office chatting to her all the time.Iknow nothing about anyone’s private life, but evenIknew that.
Elliotlooks down and stares into his wine.
“I’dassumed she must be single,” he says without blinking. “Because, you know, she works such long hours for you all the time.”
Well, thankGodshe has a boyfriend.Elliot’soffice is just two floors below mine, andI’mnot a fan of personal lives tangling with the workplace.
I’mparticularly not a fan of the idea ofmy brother’spersonal life tangling withmyworkplace.Charlotteis like my right business hand.Thelast thingIneed is to risk losing her because she got involved with my brother and he pissed her off.
Particularlysince my previous assistant quit because ofConnor-related shenanigans.Afterthat nightmareImade all the brousins shake on an agreement that we would never mix business and family in any way.Wecall it “TheSubclause” to the pact we made all those years ago to make our fortunes so we could take care of our parents.
Elliot’sshoulders rise and fall with a massive sigh.Ialmost feel sorry for him.Ifanyone had stood between me andPolly,I’dprobably have driven a tank over them to get to her.
Ipat him on the back. “Butyou know what, she’ll be back at her desk at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.Andevery other day.Justlike normal.Youcan talk to her any time you like.”
Henods into his drink.
Dadraises his glass again, making his second attempt at a toast.Hecoughs to get everyone’s attention.Thebuzz of congratulations—and the shrieks coming fromCarly—quiet down.
“Welcometo the family,Polly,” he says. “And, of course,Gloria.Wecould not be happier and more honored to have you both officially in our lives.”
“AndI’mdelighted you’re generous enough to share your wonderful son with me,”Gloriasays.
“Yeah,”Connorsays, raising his cup. “Anotherone bites the dust, eh,Max?”Heslaps me on the back. “Itwas only a few months ago you saidOwenwas out of his fucking mind for getting engaged to that hippie.Nowlook at you.”
“Connor, please,”Momwhispers, as he knocks back the contents of his cup.
Gerald’sdaughter’s roommate approaches with a fresh tray of samples at precisely the wrong moment.
Connorspins around to face her. “Yay.Morefucking awful wine.”
Helaunches himself at the drinks, sending her hurtling backward toward a row of neatly staked tomato plants.Herfoot catches on the wood edging around the bed and flies out from under her.
There’sa cry of “Oooh!” as her tray arcs in the air, cups of wine scattering to the four winds, and she falls hard on her back, squishing the plants.Connorlands flat on top of her.Herpoor bemused, stunned face peeks out around the side of his head.
Thephotographer snaps away and the cameraman zooms in.
“Oh,Christ,”Dadsays, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Ifthis makes it to theNewYorkpapers, it could be the final straw.Hecould lose everything he’s worked for.”
Thepoor woman, her face the shade ofGerald’sbeet-and-raspberry wine, shovesConnorto the side and slides out from under him.Shestumbles upright and dusts off dirt and bits of tomato foliage, leavingConnorlying face down in the dirt among smashed plants and snapped canes.
Momrushes over to help. “Areyou okay, my love?Youtook quite a tumble.”
Thewoman nods and frantically picks up the tray and gathers the plastic cups like she wants to get as far away fromConnoras she can, as quickly as she can.
Daddrops his mouth to my ear.
“Whycan’t he do himself a favor and clean up his act and get himself together, like he always was before?”Histeeth are gritted. “Whycan’t he stay away from all the partying?Whycan’t he settle down with a nice, normal young lady?”Helooks over at the mortified wine server asMomhelps to retie her apron. “Someonelike that poor girl he just sent flying.”
“Ithink what he needs right now is a good cup of tea,” saysGloria. “Howabout we all go back to our house and celebrate with some ofPolly’sherbal concoctions?”Thereare nods of agreement all around. “Andyou can all meet the goats.”
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