Page 16 of We Were Something
“Here’s your water, Dr. Becker.”
A rocks glass is set down in front of me filled with water and a fancy block of ice.
“Would you like me to bring you your check, or would you rather charge the card on file?”
“My check please, Sarah. Thank you.” I give her another smile.
She nods and bustles off, greeting a new couple that just sat in her section a few tables away from me.
Sarah is the type of woman Ishouldbe attracted to. Beautiful. A hard worker. Kind. She’s great with her daughter, Mira, and much closer to an appropriate age for me to be looking at.
Even though I might put on a monkey suit every once in a while to attend bullshit events like the one on Saturday, I’m sure a woman like Sarah and I would have much more in common than anyone I spoke with that night.
Yet for some reason…
For some…ridiculous…absurd…completely nonsensical reason…
I can’t get my mind off of a woman who has lived her entire life in that world. A woman who is sixteen years my junior, at that.
Shaking my head, I take a long sip from my glass and think back to the expression on Paige’s face earlier this evening when she saw me in Ivy Calloway’s long-term care room.
I wasn’t surprised to seeherthere. I’ve seen her before, popping in with flowers and a smile for the teenager who has recently been added into the clinical trial I’m assisting Dr. Singh with. But if the shock on her face was anything to go by, she had no idea who I was at the gala.
It makes sense that she didn’t notice me before. Not only am I significantly older than her, it’s also not uncommon for people like me to go unnoticed by people like her.
Maybe that makes me sound bitter, even though it isn’t what I’m aiming for. But it’s the truth.
The wealthy rarely notice the help, and even though I have this fancy degree—even though I’ve spent the last two decades investing and being smart with my money, even though I do work that matters—I’m still serving the rich.
Just like my mother did all those years ago, though in a different way.
“Have a good night, Dr. Becker.”
Sarah’s voice yanks me out of my self-victimization, and I give her a final thank you before signing my check and dropping a cash tip on the black tray she just set on the table. Then I take another sip of my water before heading through the main restaurant and out to the parking lot where my car is waiting.
It’s a Lincoln Aviator. Not the tip top of fancy SUVs, but still a beautiful luxury vehicle. I guess that’s kind of how I’ve decided to live my life, now that I have a steady stream of income. I spend enough to be comfortable, but not so much that it feels wasteful.
Besides, I’d rather spend the half-mil I make per year on smarter things, like real estate. Stocks. Money market funds. Things that further increase my wealth instead of high-cost items that waste it.
The only exception to that last rule is anything that will make my mother’s life even more lovely and relaxed than it’s ever been. Taking care of the amazing woman who raised me, who broke her back trying to give me the best life possible, is priceless, and my goal is for her to never have to work at anything ever again if she doesn’t want to.
Speaking of my mom, I dial her number over the Bluetooth as I pull out of the yacht club’s lot and make the short drive back to the rental I’m living in while I scout for a house to buy.
“Hey sweetie, I wasjusttalking about you.”
A smile breaks out on my face.
“Oh really? With who?”
“With Jennie.”
The smile drops just as quickly at the revelation. Even through the phone I can hear the slight bit of discomfort in my mother’s voice.
“Am I on speaker?” I ask, not wanting this conversation to be broadcast.
A bit of a rustling sound comes across the line before I hear my mom again, this time much clearer and a little more hushed.
“Logan, I…”
