Page 84 of Mr. Hotshot CEO
The waitress comes around and asks if we’re ready to order.
Ha. Not even close.
Courtney frowns at the menu. “I bet the croissants are good here. Maybe we should get a croissant. Except you can get a croissant anywhere... Sorry for being so slow at this. I’ll get the chocolate-raspberry tart, and you can get the chocolate cake with salted caramel, and I promise not to steal more than half.”
“Why don’t we get three things to share?”
We choose a strawberry éclair for our third pastry, and we also order a pot of tea. When our food arrives, she takes a few pictures—for our scrapbook, she says—before trying a bite of the tart.
“This is the greatest thing ever.” She moans in pleasure.
After tomorrow, I won’t get to hear that sound again. My chest constricts.
“Well, it’s the greatest thing ever except for...you know.” She does something weird with her left eye.
“Were you trying to wink?”
“Obviously.” She does it again. It’s adorable, but it looks more like she has a bug in her eye than a sexy wink.
“I hate to tell you this,” I say, “but you’re very bad at winking. Have you ever looked in the mirror while doing it?”
“No, but I’m going to right now.”
Before I can protest and say it can wait, she’s gotten up from her chair and started toward the washroom. I resist the urge to finish all the pastries in her absence.
She comes back with a sober look on her face. “You’re right. I can’t wink. I tried with my right eye, too, and it was even worse.”
“Let me see.”
“No way. It’s embarrassing.”
“If you show me, you can have the rest of the chocolate-raspberry tart.”
Apparently, this is enough of an incentive, and Courtney does something funny with her right eye, then bursts into laughter.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” she asks between laughs.
“Yeah, it kind of is.” Since she’s laughing, I can’t help but laugh, too.
This is something Old Julian never would have done: just sitting in a pâtisserie with a woman, eating dessert and drinking tea and laughing together. Before Courtney, I never would have taken a spontaneous trip to Montreal, and I would have checked my phone at least twice since we sat down. I wouldn’t have been able to lose myself in the moment.
That’s when it hits me.
I’m different from who I was before, so maybe Icanhave a relationship.
When I first decided to go along with my family’s plan, I thought I’d have a break, then be refreshed when I went back to my life of non-stop work. I didn’t expect the time off to actually change me.
But I don’t want to work fourteen-hour days anymore. Although a part of me is eager to get back to the office, I hate the idea of doing nothing but work now. Sure, I’d like Fong Investments to grow and become even more of a success, but not at the expense of me having no life whatsoever. I want to have time to read on my rooftop patio, wander around the city, eat pistachio gelato...
And I want Courtney to be with me.
I wonder if this was part of my family’s plan when they ordered me to take two weeks off work. Maybe they thought it would not only give me a break but make me realize I need a better work-life balance. Work-life balance isn’t something I thought about before—I was too busy working to think about it. And if my workaholic tendencies put a serious strain on a relationship, that’s a serious problem and I should seek professional help rather than just resigning myself to never having a significant other.
Unlike my past relationships, I’m emotionally invested in this. I haven’t been holding myself back with Courtney. Is it because I haven’t had to worry about work in the past two weeks, or is it because of her?
I think it’s because of her. She’s special. I feel a sense of peace and enjoyment with her that I’ve never felt with another girlfriend; I feel like I’m more than a workaholic CEO in her presence, more than the responsible son who gets things done.
The idea that I could really be with Courtney still feels new and fragile and hard to believe, but it might be possible after all.
