Page 136 of The Renter

“Let me,” Eric says, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“I feel so bad. I’ll babysit or take her to a museum or something to help make up for it.”

“This is his mess to clean up. Not yours,” Eric says, and all the meanings come through.

115

“Iwill do whatever you recommend. This is my top priority right now,” I say on the phone with my concierge doctor. Sitting in my lounge at home, I sip a strong pour of whiskey and light a cigar. This is the worst day of my life.

“You’re already tackling the low-hanging fruit—exercise, meditation. Are you ready for what we discussed before? Adding cognitive behavioral therapy?”

“Yes.”

“They’ll probably suggest one or two days a week, but if you can manage three, that’s my recommendation.”

“What about medication?”

“After you’ve started therapy, the doctor will make their own recommendation.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m stating the obvious here, but you need to slow down at work. With your family history of heart attacks … you need to reduce your stress on every front.”

If only it were that easy to stop working.

Reflecting on the day, I can’t believe the trifecta of fucked I’ve caused: Dani, Eric, Lily. They all have reasons to hate me right now. I hate myself right now.

Do I even need to play this game anymore?I take a long puff of the cigar. Greg can run the show. He knows where the bodies are buried and who owes us favors. He proved he could do it without me this summer—the best summer of my life.

Dani. I understand why she texted him. It was immature. She’s twenty-six, and nothing happened. I take a deep breath. She’ll never forgive me. It will be a full-time job getting her to come around. But I want it. I still love her. Dani is the one for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.

116

Sunday, November 20th

After buying Dani a new phone and picking up a large coffee for her, I head to her apartment building.It would be polite to call up.I’m in no position right now to go up to her door and knock.

“Can you tell Dani Sommer that Adam Harris is here?” I ask the doorman. He looks her up on his computer and cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t you live there too?”

“We had a fight.” I do not want to explain that this is her place I’m paying for.

“Oh,” he says, and this is awkward.

“She’ll probably refuse to let me up. But can you say I have a new phone for her … And I’m starting therapy.”

The guy looks uncomfortable, then calls her. “He said you would say that. Let me hand the phone over to him.”

Smart man.“Dani, I’m sorry for everything that happened yesterday. I have a new phone for you, and I am scheduled to see a therapist three days a week for the foreseeable future. I also have coffee.”

“I don’t need … or want anything from you,” she says through the phone, emotionless.

“Can I please bring them to you?”

“I already bought a new phone with my own money,” she says tightly. “You need to leave. You’re not welcome here.”

“Okay,” I hesitate. “I’m sorry. I love you.” She hangs up before I can share that I’m thinking about retiring.