Page 49 of Negotiating Tactics

I’d been working hard to earn that earnest money, picking up contract jobs, doing wills, whatever I could to earn the extra money to save.

Perhaps a light ethical violation, but in a few weeks when I signed that contract, it wouldn’t matter.

“I’m glad I named you Alex,” my father said out of the blue.

I looked at him, noting how handsome he still was, though the low fade that he had favored when I was a kid had given way to a clean shave. Despite that minor change, his medium brown skin was unwrinkled, and he more or less looked the way he always had.

“I’ll bet you do,” I said, smiling. “It is your name after all.”

“Yeah. And when your mother told me you were coming, I insisted. There was a chance I’d make a boy one day, but there was no reason to risk it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I’m glad you got your namesake,” I said.

“Me too,” he responded.

“You sure you don’t want half of this?” he said, looking at the untouched half of his pastrami sandwich.

“No, I’m good,” I said.

“Then I’ll pack this up,” he said.

We were eating at a sandwich shop, so he walked up to the counter to get a takeout box. When he came back, he packed the rest of the sandwich. Then, he looked at his watch.

“The boys get out of school in half an hour. I think I’ll go pick them up and let them try this. I’m pretty sure they’ve never had pastrami before,” he said.

“That’s nice. It’s awesome that you’re showing them new things,” I said, my voice bright.

He was scrolling through his phone as he mumbled, “Yeah. I’ll catch up with you. Happy early birthday.”

He stood, and we met eye to eye, both of us six feet tall, though my father was slimmer than I would ever be.

I reached out to hug him but stilled when he lifted his hand and gave me a halfhearted wave.

“Enjoy your birthday, baby,” he said.

“Thanks,” I whispered as he walked away.

I wasn’t even sure he had heard me because he didn’t stop to say you’re welcome.

With a deep sigh, I cleaned off the table, then nodded at the cashier as I hurried out of the restaurant.

There were reasons to rush.

After all, I had two wills to finish, a real estate closing, plus all of my other work to get done before I spent my birthday alone.

Eleven

Alex

“Just a second,” I called at the knock on the door the next night.

I’d only gotten home an hour before after another long day, and after a quick shower, I’d put on dinner and was getting ready to settle in for the night.

At another knock, I looked at the door with mock irritation.

Then, I hastily turned off the oven and put my vegetarian lasagna on a rack to cool.

A quick wash of my hands, and I practically ran toward the door, my excitement impossible to hide.

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