“What?” I asked.
“It’s called an apology. Contrition. Feeling bad when you’ve done something bad.”
“I know what ‘contrition’ means,” I said.
“Do you? Because I didn’t hear any kind of apology. All I heard was you telling me what you need and what you want and how you might manipulate me to get it. And I’m sure that usually works for you. But this isn’t one of those times,” Finn said.
“Finn,” I said. “Please.”
He turned and started walking back up the path. “I’m sorry,” he called over his shoulder.
But he didn’t sound sorry at all.
Eighteen
Alistair Calloway
Spring 1997
In the conference room, my father and our lead architect had the building plans for our latest development project in Murray Hill spread out on the table. They were going over the neighborhood planning codes. I’d just come from my walk-through of the shell of a tenement with my design consultant. It was the first official project that I was heading at the Calloway Group. I had found the building and helped broker the deal, and now I would oversee the extensive renovations that would turn that sad dilapidated mess into luxury rental apartments that rising young professionals would pay through the nose for.
My father looked up as I entered the room.
“Where’s Teddy?” he asked.
“He’s not here?” I said, glancing at my watch. It was going on half past two. Teddy should have been there half an hour ago. He was in the city on spring break and my father had instructed him in no uncertain terms to stop by.
Normally, I’d have been pleased that Teddy was a no-show. But that was before my father had made him my de facto second-in-command on the Murray Hill project. Teddy was supposed to shadow me when he graduated in May. My father had already cleared out an office for him. Apparently, Teddy was getting a seat at the table whether he fucking showed up or not.
“I’ll call him,” I said. “I’ll be right back.
“Rosie,” I called as I passed her desk on my way to my office, “get me Teddy on the phone.”
It was no surprise that Teddy was late. He and Grace were staying at my apartment on the Upper East Side and they spent their days traipsing around the city, taking in the sights. I’d avoided them as much as possible, leaving for the office early every morning before they woke up. I’d even stayed two nights at Margot’s, but her apartment was small and uncomfortable—a third-story walk-up that she shared with two other med students in Brooklyn. So, the other night, I’d slept at my place. I heard them come home late in the evening as I was lying in bed. Grace’s laughter floated down the hall, and then I heard their bedroom door creaking closed. I put a pillow over my head and tried not to picture them together in the dark.
“I have Teddy on line one for you,” Rosie called from the doorway.
I picked up my phone.
“Where the hell are you?” I asked. “You were supposed to be here to go over plans for the new rental property half an hour ago.”
“Hold on a sec,” Teddy said. His voice became muffled. “Yeah, medium rare, please. And a glass of Chardonnay when you get the chance.” I heard static and then my brother’s voice again. “Sorry, I’m back. What’s up?”
“Tell me you’re not literally out to fucking lunch right now,” I said.
“Well, the early showing of the movie was sold out, so we had to go to the later one. And that pushed lunch back, and then there was a wait to get a table so we’re just now ordering,” Teddy said.
“Get your ass in a cab and get down here,” I said. “Now.”
“Listen, you don’t really need me there,” Teddy said. “Can’t you just fill me in later on what I missed? I mean, I’m on vacation.”
“Please,” I said. “Your whole life has been a fucking vacation. The fun’s over.”
“All right, Dad,” Teddy said.
“I’m serious, Teddy,” I said. “Enough with your pranks. If Father and Eugenia want to hand you consolation prizes your whole life just for existing, that’s their choice. But this is my project, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fuck it up.”
“You sound a little shrill,” Teddy said. “Maybe it’s just the connection. Anyway, my appetizers are here.”