Page 4 of A Very Bossy Christmas
This will not be good for me.
There’s a ninety percent chance that it was just a threat, but I am one hundred percent fucked if I don’t talk to my ma sooner rather than later.
If I call, I’ll need a plan, and I don’t have one yet.
If my ma calls, I can avoid her for about six hours, tops. Any longer than that, and I’m the least favorite son for months. She won’t be on my side, and Ineedthe women on my side.
This is bad.
I finally realize there’s an old lady in the middle of the crosswalk and she’s flipping me the double bird. Only, you can hardly tell that her middle fingers are up because she’s wearing men’s gloves that are too big for her. I realize I’m leaning on the horn. And the old lady is using a walker.
This is really bad.
I raise my hands in the air in surrender, mouthingI am so sorry—it was an accident!And then clasp my hands together, begging for forgiveness.
That’s when someone else tosses their coffee at my car and yells “Eat a bag of dicks, you old Grinch!” Now all the cars behind me are honking because the light has changed and the old lady is still in the middle of the crosswalk, giving me the stink eye.
Old?Since when is thirty-two old? Who does that little shit think he’s talking to?
He doesn’t even help the old lady across the street. I want to get out of my car and do it, but she’d probably think I’m just trying to make her move faster. Which would be mostly true.
It’s not even eight o’clock yet, and I already hate this day.
Work.
I just need a few hours at the office, and then I’ll feel good and I’ll know my place in the world again.
Because I love my work.
Sentinel is the tenth-largest real estate firm in New York City in terms of dollar volume of listings. The properties are luxury. The offices are shiny but not as shiny as the law firm I left seven months ago. Everyone here works hard but not as hard as everyone works in Big Law. This is New York, so looking good matters, but these people aren’t too slick because no one’s the star of a reality show. Okay, maybe I’m a little slick, but only because it’s impossible to tone down my alarming good looks and impeccable style. And it’s real estate, so everyone is personable—but not as personable as your friendly neighborhood real estate agent in Ohio. Because this is New York. So I don’t have to deal with a bunch of friendly brokers all up in my face every day. They let me do my job, and I’m more than happy to let them do theirs as long as they don’t fuck things up by being idiots or doing anything illegal.
I did start in-house lawyering here so I could have a better quality of life. It’s true.
That’s why I’m the general counsel at Sentinel, as opposed to one of the top three firms.
A little less income than Big Law, sure, but also less stress and hours.
It was time for me to get a life.
It was time for me to prove—to no one in particular—that I could make room for another person in that spacious new life.
I just didn’t expect to realize exactly how empty my life had become as soon as I’d made the change.
Fortunately, I don’t have time to dwell on that kind of thing anymore.
Fortunately, my work life is fulfilling in a way that it has never been before.
I could do with a lot less of the Christmas decorations and holiday cheer around the corporate office, though.
As soon as I step off the elevator and into the Sentinel lobby, I’m greeted by Cindy the unbearably happy receptionist. Which is weird because she started to back off after I’d been here for about a week. That made me like her more.
“Happy holidays, Mr. Cannavale!”
“Nope.”
“I’m so happy you’ll be at the holiday party next week!”
“I won’t be there.”
