Page 50 of Buried Treasure
Chapter 17
It had been almost a week since Andy had left his card on her counter, and Sydney was no closer to gaining any time to think about it, much less call the number on the back of it. Instead, she had been stuck in her lawyer's office, sitting only a room away from her former boss who swindled a bunch of people out of their life savings. There was only a wall between them, but it felt like a deep chasm the size of the Grand Canyon.
Sydney thought about Andy standing in her apartment that night, his honesty almost too much for her to bear.
"Trust me," he had whispered in her ear.
That night she did. She had no problem trusting him in her bed. But then she got here. Every time she walked into this office, every time she got up to get a Coke from the vending machine to keep her going, every time she came back from lunch with Lucy, John was sitting there. To be honest, he wasn't looking good. The John Martin she worked for always dressed well, always commanded attention when he was in a room. But now, he looked like a shell of his former self. His hair was disheveled and there were dark circles forming under his eyes. His suit looked rumpled, his shirts were wrinkled, and his tie was never on straight like it used to be.
And yet, Sydney couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for him. He deserved everything he was getting right now. Because when Sydney wasn't thinking about the way John looked, she was sitting in a conference room looking at the work John had done. She poured over the ledgers and documents that the law firm had printed out for her, becoming more and more angry as the evidence stacked up against him. The worst was when she scoured the financial statements of John's clients. She was so thankful that he never touched the money belonging to her own clients, because his portfolios were a mess. He had invested his clients' money in fake accounts and bogus companies. He moved money from this place to that like he was playing a shell game on the Atlantic City boardwalk, tricking people with his sleight of hand. She was particularly upset with the portfolio of an elderly couple that would come in on a monthly basis to check their investments. Almost all the money they had given John was gone.
It was snowing outside on Friday afternoon when Lucy ducked her head into Sydney's conference room.
"Come on, Barton. Get your coat."
"I need to get some more work done," Sydney replied. "I haven't finished taking care of the list of questions for the S.E.C."
Lucy walked in with her coat and briefcase in her hand, looking like she was ready to leave when it was only 3:30 in the afternoon.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm your lawyer. I'll handle it."
"And where are we going?"
"The bar," she replied.
Sydney leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. "I don't want to go to the bar."
"Don't care. Get your coat."
Sydney was trying to weigh her options. She could argue with Lucy about not wanting to go somewhere in public again, or she could deal with the stares from the random strangers who recognized her from the news. She took a look at Lucy, who was standing there defiantly and ready to drag her out of the building. Sydney sighed. She would just have to deal with the rude people at a bar. A fight with Lucy was not worth it.
She grabbed her coat and purse, thankful that at least she didn't have to drag her own briefcase to work anymore now that her job was non-existent. Luckily, the bar was only a block away so it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
The snow was beautiful as they stepped outside. It was falling in fluffy light flakes, but there wasn't a bit of bone-chilling wind along with it. It was just the perfect quiet moment in the city, one of those moments that would've been even better with her arm holding on to a man, snuggled up against him as they romantically strolled the streets of Detroit. But there was no man there, just Lucy.
It was partially Sydney's own fault. Or maybe not. Or maybe. She couldn't figure any of it out. If anything, a drink with Lucy is exactly what she needed to try and sort out what was going on with her and why she didn't want to actually call the attractive man who left his phone number behind. A phone number she still hadn't used. No calls, no texts, nothing. She was busy with the S.E.C. crap, but even she knew she could find some time to call if she really wanted.
The two women finally made it to the bar and tucked themselves in a booth with a window before Lucy ordered a pitcher of their favorite beer.
"Do we really need a pitcher?" Sydney asked her as the waiter walked away with their order.
"Yes, we need an entire pitcher. I need something to cleanse myself after seeing John sitting in my office all week and not saying a word to him."
"I can agree to that."
The pitcher arrived, and Lucy expertly poured two pints, making sure to limit the foam.
"I'm always so impressed with your beer skills," Sydney said teasingly.
"I learned some important things in law school." Lucy raised her glass in a toast. "To not worrying about jobs or men," she said, clinking her glass against Sydney's before taking a drink.
Sydney followed her lead and drank, the beer cool in her throat. Damn, she really needed that. But the toast? Ugh, that had to be dealt with. Because after this past week, she had both of those things weighing on her mind.
"So we can't worry about jobs or men then?" she asked.
Lucy gave her a knowing look over her glass. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
