Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
When she reaches her floor, she asks me to wait again so she can catch her breath.
“You’ll definitely need to build your stamina if we ever have sex, Scarlett.”
“We already agreed that was never happening.” She pants.
“I said I’d ‘never’ talk on the phone to you about non-legal work, too.”
“Fair enough...” She’s definitely smiling. “What were you saying about that café you hate in New Jersey?”
I’m not sure how the hell we don’t end the call until ten, but when it’s over, I find myself saying four words that I can’t believe dropped from my mouth.
“I’ll call you tonight.”
I hang up before we can break a telethon record, and then I search for “Scarlett, marketing director, campaign sales” for what has to be the umpteenth time.
Marketing isn’t as SEO-optimized as law, and I figure she may work for a small private company, so I let it go.
I’ll just ask her about it tonight.
IMPEACH (V.)
TO DISCREDIT THE TESTIMONY OF A WITNESS BY PROVING THAT HE/SHE HAS NOT TOLD THE TRUTH OR HAS BEEN INCONSISTENT, BY INTRODUCING CONTRARY EVIDENCE
SCARLETT
A Few Weeks Later
“By the time Scarlett joins the family business in a few years, this family will be halfway there to running the entire cigar industry on the East Coast!”
My father lifts a glass of wine, while my mother and four older brothers cheer via our monthly ‘family matters’ Zoom call.
I feign a smile to look like I fit in.
“Make sure you take good notes when you get to Senior Accounting next semester,” Rob, the oldest of my brothers, says. “You’re our only hope since we all passed that one up.”
“I have no doubt she’ll pass it with flying colors.” My dad’s eyes meet mine. “I just got a letter from her Economics professor praising just how much she’s excelling in the course.”
I swallow; I’d sent that to buy time on him asking about my latest “project scores,” not for him to share with everyone.
“Well, in that case, Dad—” My youngest brother Antonio raises a glass. “We’ll have the cigar and the alcohol business locked away.”
They all cheer again, and my smile wavers.
I still don’t know how my father convinced all of them that the only purpose in going to college was to eventually come home to the family business.
I’d once made the mistake of telling him that I dreamed of a career onstage, and he dismissed me with a “You can dream all you want while working for the family business.”
“Family over everything, Scarlett,” he’d say, “even your job, even your dreams...”
I don’t chime in much for the rest of the meeting, and I only catch hints of the small updates they share—since I’m pretty sure half of whatever my father does is illegal.
“Good catching up with you all,” my dad says after about an hour. “I’ll call you individually this week as always.”
“Always, Dad,” we speak in unison like programmed robots, and then we wait until he says goodbye before daring to log off.
I delete the app to make sure there’s no chance of them seeing that I’m getting ready to clean an office.
Pulling my cart inside, I pick up the glass cleaner for the mirrored table.
I’m wiping fingerprints when my phone sounds.
Jameson.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello.” His deep voice is a welcome highlight to my day. “What are you doing?”
“Working as usual.”
“Take a break and meet me for drinks.”
“Ha!” I let out a nervous laugh. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” he says. “There are plenty of decent bars in this city. I’ll let you pick.”
I’m not twenty-one yet...
“I just can’t get off right now,” I say.
“Okay, what about two hours from now?”
“Not then either.” I try to keep my tone firm. “My job doesn’t work like that.”
“I’m sure it does since you can talk to me all night while you work,” he says. “You’re salaried, right?”
“I’ll have to take a rain check, Jameson. I’m sorry.”
“Well, what time do you get off tonight? I can pick you up and we can do drinks that way.”
“You must be feeling really lonely,” I say.
“Because I asked you to join me for some drinks?” he asks.
“You’ve told me like six different times that you’d rather work than ever have a hobby and you don’t have many friends.” I pause. “So, either this is a pity invite because everyone you know turned you down, or you’re lonely.”
“Or, maybe I would just fucking like to see you, Scarlett...”
“Oh.” My cheeks flush red. “Well, that’s a possibility too.”
“That’s exactly what it is.” He’s rolling his eyes; I can tell. “If there’s ever an award for making shit ten times more difficult than it needs to be, you would win it over every terrible client I’ve ever had.”
“In that case, make sure to put hazel-colored stones in my plaque, so it can match my eyes whenever I hang it on my wall.”