Page 58 of Nerdplay
“Your dad must’ve had a hearing problem because I can hear you fine.” His arm makes a sweeping gesture, nearly catching me in the ribs in the process. “You’re confident. You’re whip-smart. And you’re the best kind of loud.”
“You’re right.”
“I know I am.”
“Not about me. I mean that you’re definitely drunk.”
“I can be drunk and still be right about you.” He boops my nose. “Some people say I’m more honest when I drink. Loose inhibitions and all that.”
“Who are some people?”
“My brother and sister. They have categories for me when I’m drunk. I’m either Sleepy Charlie or Chatty Charlie.”
“Which one are you now?”
He rubs his head. “Kinda both.”
“Good thing we’re getting you to bed then. You can chat to Chucky until you fall asleep.”
“Or I could chat to you.” He sways toward me, walking with loose limbs like the Scarecrow in The Wizard of the Oz. “I like talking to you.”
I nudge him upright. “What do you like about it?”
“It’s easy-breezy. We have a connection.” He casts a sidelong glance at me. “Do I sound crazy?”
“You sound like you’ve had one too many beers.” I steer him toward the door of his cabin. “I agree with you, though. It’s been a fun night, Charlie Thorpe. Sleep it off and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Not if I see you first.” He salutes me and walks straight into the closed door of his cabin.
I hold in my laughter until I’m sure he’s unharmed, then I snort-laugh all the way to my cabin.
Chapter Nine
I wake up the next morning feeling more hungover than I would’ve preferred. I’m not much of a drinker. One beer at a work event and I’m ready to head home. And if it weren’t for the corporate culture, I’d skip the event altogether. It’s not like I enjoy them. They’re perfunctory, like most things in my life. As much as I tried to escape the life my parents planned for me, somehow I ended up in a similar situation. Same archipelago, different island.
Except last night. Last night was arguably a work event, but I’d been in no rush to leave. Why didn’t the law firm host trivia nights? I tried to imagine my department in a dive bar guessing answers to inane questions. Matt would be competitive, but his knowledge would be limited to sports, cars, and world wars. Zach would complain that another team cheated and grovel for points. Abby would get drunk and overshare about her sex life, or lack thereof. Joel would take the game too seriously and suck all the fun out of the room. And they’d all be sore losers.
The memory of Cricket’s laughter rings in my head. It was a wicked, bawdy laugh that ought to belong to a gangster’s moll and not the bespectacled woman in the Tree of Mordor or Gondor or one of the ’dors T-shirt who was seated beside me all evening.
With great effort, I swing my legs out of bed. That’s when I see two missed calls and a message from Jeannie.
Meeting at 10. Get here.
My heart drops to the floor. What meeting? I pick up the phone and call my assistant.
“I’m sorry. It’s a last-minute change to the schedule.” She’s speaking in a hushed tone. “I think this is Matt’s doing.”
The bastard is trying to sabotage me. “What’s the meeting about?”
“Call me from the road and I’ll fill you in, but you should get moving or you’ll miss it, which I’m sure is his plan. Did you pack a suit? If not, I’ve got the one I took to the dry cleaners for you.”
“I’ve got one, but thanks, Jeannie. You’re the best.”
“From your lips to payroll’s ears.”
I check the time. I’ll have to skip the shower, or I won’t make it. I’ll be pushing the clock as it is. I’d have to skip breakfast, too, and miss out on Bernie’s gluten-free chocolate chip pancakes. Bummer. I would’ve inhaled the hell out of those.
After wearing casual clothes all week, my suit feels stiff and uncomfortable. I spend the next hour with my foot on the gas, listening to Jeannie’s rundown of events. The firm’s annual meeting with LandStar got bumped up to this week. The only reason Jeannie knows about it is because she’s good friends with Joel’s assistant.
