Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Hey,” Duncan said, unexpectedly there. “I know I begged off of this because Aaron was delayed in Ontario, but he’s back early because things went so much better than he thought they would so…we’re in a private room in the back. You all need to come with me.”
“Really?” Sam grumbled. “This is how you ask people to dinner?”
“Oh just hurry up,” Duncan groused at him. “Come eat.”
Surprisingly, Dane stepped forward, slipped his hand over Duncan’s shoulder, and told him to lead on. Duncan gave the hand a pat before moving to the left toward the back. It was nice that at the doors that led to a beautiful warm, candlelit room with a dining table and a small lounge area for after-dinner drinks, that after Duncan went in, Dane stopped and waited for Aja, who went next, then him, and Sam did the same, waiting on me, hand on the small of my back, guiding me inside before he entered last.
Aaron was sitting at the table, but stood when we got close, standing to greet us. He then came around the table, hugging each of us in turn, before he had us sit. Nice to see Sam go hug Dane before that, and my brother giving him one in return. I nearly cried looking at all of them.
“What’s wrong with you?” Aaron asked, sounding slightly peevish.
“Nothing,” I murmured.
“Did you not want to have––”
“I always want to spend time with you, so knock it off,” I scolded him.
He glanced at Sam, who grinned at him. “Nobody likes a drama queen, man. Don’t be one.”
Returning his gaze to me, Aaron smiled. “Forgive me. I forgot for a moment that you like me.”
I nodded. “Now let’s order some drinks, because Sam has an issue that he could use some input on, and I want to help him.”
“No,” Sam rushed out, “I don’t need everybody’s––”
“Oh.” Aja sounded excited. “Let’s get appetizers too so we can all focus.”
My husband shook his head a moment, but when he saw how interested everyone was, he sighed deeply and then explained how he thought he might need to kill a guy on his team—who I knew was Pazzi—and wanted to know if morale could be restored after murder.
Aaron was the first to chime in. “Actually, yes,” he assured Sam. “With enough other incentives and if everyone hates him.”
Sam was nodding.
“Stop that,” I ordered him.
“What?”
Dane was certain that Sam could make it look like an accident.
With a roll of her eyes, Aja then leaned forward. “He needs positive coaching.”
“You don’t think I’ve done that?” he asked, and then explained how he had Pazzi hang with two of his most veteran guys.
I shook my head. “No. He needs a mentor.”
“Probably, yes,” Dane agreed.
“What’s the difference between a coach, which he’s already had,” Sam stressed, “and a mentor?”
“A mentor must always be supportive,” Duncan told him. “They can be hard on you, if need be, but it’s like someone you can check in with and you don’t get dinged for it.”
“Like hitting pause,” Aja commented. “That’s what teaching assistants are supposed to be. And yes, they’re there to give the professor support, but more than that, they’re someone the students can go to, ask questions, and not lose face with their teacher.”
“All your newer guys should have one,” Aaron told him. “We have that program at Sutter. Someone who always has your back.”
Sam nodded. “Now I just need to figure out who, on my team, doesn’t want to murder him.”
“It’s probably someone you don’t immediately think of, and definitely not someone he directly reports to,” Dane offered. “Think outside the box.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed. “That was actually helpful.”
Aja chuckled. “We have our moments.”
Later, on the way home, Sam pulled over when we were nearly there and turned to me.
“Yes, dear?” I teased him.
“I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and that I don’t ever take the fact that you’re in my life, for granted.”
I squinted at him.
“What?” He sounded indignant. “I don’t.”
“I know you don’t,” I soothed him, reaching out to put my hand on his cheek. “What is this about?”
“Just so you know,” he grumbled, putting his hand over mine.
It hit me then. “Who’s getting divorced?”
After a moment he said, “The chief deputy in Boston. Nice guy, kids a bit younger than Hannah and Kola. He told me last week at our meeting in Manhattan.”
I gazed into his beautiful eyes and saw how sad he looked.
“I just—his wife told him he worked too much—and not even like this past month or even last year but for fuckin’ ever, ya know? It just built up over time. Her and the kids got used to being without him, and now, as he contemplates retirement, his wife is divorcing him and the kids will of course choose their mother and he’s just left alone and––”