Page 91 of Nerdplay
“And who was that?”
“Jerry Larkin in nineteen-sixty-seven.”
“Pffft. Jerry Larkin sounds like a knob.”
I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “Apparently he was kind of a jackass.”
“Is that the kind of legacy you want? To have some lawyer talking about you in fifty years, that you were the youngest partner in the firm’s history and also a giant asshat?”
“I would hope that isn’t my reputation.”
“Well, if you ask me, your parents already failed.”
My head jerks toward her. “What makes you say that?”
“Because they made you think that achievement is more important than your own happiness.”
“You think I’m unhappy?”
She lets loose that bawdy laugh. “Charlie, you’re downright miserable.”
I turn back to the ceiling. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’m not trying to give you a hard time, I swear. It’s the way you talk about your job and making partner. None of it seems to bring you joy.”
“Then I guess we’re both joyless freaks,” I say.
She slides to a seated position. “I’m not the one walking around like a robot in the wild.”
“Maybe not, but I get the sense that you’re like Gloria, marking time until this camp opens every summer. That’s no way to live either.”
“I love this camp.”
“I know you do, but what about the other months of the year when the camp is closed?”
“Not a fan, I’ll be honest. Saddest day of the year is the day I close up for the season. I let myself have a good cry.”
“What do you do the rest of the year?”
“I work at the reception desk for a ski resort in the winter.”
“Why not get creative? Try to find ways to extend the season.”
She knocks my arm with her own. “You’re supposed to be sweet-talking the camp out from under me. Here’s your big chance to tell me how much better my life will be if I take your money.”
“Not my money. LandStar’s money.”
“Whatever. If you plan to become a big shot, you need to work on your persuasion techniques because from where I’m sitting, you’re on my side.”
“That’s only because I’m squeezed next to you.”
“If the lawyers at your firm could see you now.”
“They’d be jealous,” I blurt. At first, she laughs, but then her smile melts away like heated snow. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell if you mean it.”
“Why wouldn’t I mean it?”
