Page 28 of Worth the Risk

“I understand.” I clear my throat, pushing away my personal feelings for the man. “We can absolutely add your son to the accounts so that there won’t be any issues when it becomes necessary for him to access them.”

“It’s funny,” he says, turning his head slightly to look out the window behind me, “you always think you have plenty of time…” Tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “If Viv were still alive”—he laughs, shaking his head—“she’d tell me she’s surprised I made it this long with my diet and habits. She was always getting on me about stuff like that.”

“Sounds like a woman who loved you dearly.”

His knee bounces nervously. “She was and I didn’t deserve her. Don’t deserve my son either.” I don’t interrupt; I just let him reminisce. I’m not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it. “I was just like you, always working, so focused on succeeding that I-I forgot to live. I forgot to live for my family and I lost them.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve had a client tell me they’re dying and I’m sure it won’t be the last. The sad part is, sometimes I feel like I’m the only person they make these confessions to. As if I’m the person who should be sharing their memories and regrets with them instead of their family or a therapist, someone who can help them find closure.

“I’m sure they know how you feel.” I attempt to offer some solace but I’m sure it’s pointless.

“Maybe so but it was still too late. Had I been there for Viv like she needed me, maybe she would have been strong enough to fight the cancer and maybe—maybe Rodger would still talk to me.”

We sit in silence for a few moments, Willy excusing himself after a while to go to the restroom. I don’t know the full story andI’m not sure I need to in order to understand the ramifications of his life choices. Somewhere along the way, he decided that his business and money were more important than his family, a decision that has cost him everything of any real value in this life.

“Where were we?” he says, clapping his hands together as he walks back toward my desk with a grin as if the previous fifteen minutes never even happened.

“Shall we?” I say, turning his attention to my computer so we can talk through each account.

“Thanks, son.” He rubs his hands over his knees. “You’ve never steered me wrong when it came to my money; you’ve been honest and fair, and I want you to know how grateful I am for that.” He stands up with a groan, reaching his hand out toward me once we’ve finished our business. “You’ve got a real talent for this business; in no time you’re going to be Chicago’s top financial firm.”

“Thank you, sir.” I shake his hand. “And I appreciate the vote of confidence. If there’s anything I can do—” I don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand what I’m saying.

“Just don’t end up like me,” he interrupts, clutching my hand a little tighter. “Don’t throw away what really matters in the pursuit of all of it.”

Willy’s words sit with me for the rest of the day, the sadness that emanated from him now hanging heavy in my office long after he’s left.

I bury myself in work, trying to escape the thoughts and emotions that continue to run laps through my brain. The constant back and forth of trying to talk myself out of going down a floor to Taylor’s office to seek comfort. Finally, I give up, glancing at the clock and deciding that I won’t get any more meaningful work done until I see her.

That surge of excitement that rushes through me every time I push the button to her floor feels like it’s in overdrive, a static energy radiating off me as I push through the elevator doors to get to her office faster.

But the door is closed. I twist the handle. It’s locked.

“Taylor?” I knock on the door, waiting for a response but it doesn’t come.

“Oh hey, is Taylor in a meeting?” I point toward the closed door when her paralegal, Tarryn, pops around the corner with a stack of reports in her arms.

“No, she went home.”

“Home?” I glance at my watch that reads 5:02. “Already?”

“I know, right.” She rolls her eyes. “Sad that after five is early for her. It’s about time she listens to me.” Her voice lowers, accompanied by a playful smile. “I told her now that it’s been over six months since her breakup, she needs to get back out there.”

“Back out there?”

She plops the stack of reports onto the table. “Yeah, you know, dating, getting laid, whatever it is that will put a little life back into her eyes.”

Dating. Getting laid.

My stomach curdles.

“Right, yeah, good for her.” I smile, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Have a good night, Tarryn. Don’t stay too late yourself.” I nod toward the reports.

“I don’t have that luxury tonight.” She grabs the first bunch of papers. “It’s just me, these reports, and collating for the next few hours. The joys of not yet being a lawyer.” Smiling, she waves at me. “Good night.”

I turn to leave but pause in the doorway. “Hey, random question, but did she seem different at all to you today?”

“Different?” She scrunches her nose. “As in?”