Pennsylvania?”
“For a few more hours. After we get off, off the phone, that is, I’m headed to New York.”
I ignored his overt request for phone sex. “So, you’re meeting with the Johnson and Bales team to talk about what to do with the Duquette situation?”
“Yes, and I’m also meeting with some of our bankers as well. Thinking about issuing some commercial paper to finance a project Dad and I have been discussing. In fact, he’s meeting me there.”
I tried to remember from second year of law school what exactly commercial paper was. I only knew that this meant they were talking about taking on some significant debt, so it must be a big deal. “That sounds promising. What’s the plan?”
“I’d tell you, but I’d have to get you to sign an NDA.”
“Seriously? You need me to sign a non-disclosure agreement to tell me?” I’m your lawyer and your girlfriend and you don’t trust me? What the hell? Okay, calm down. He’s probably got a reason.
“Yup, as you say. So, that’s what I’ve got on tap for the weekend. A series of rousing meetings with bankers in boardrooms. What are your plans?”
“Not sure.” I was hoping you’d come home. Or invite me to New York , I thought . But I bit back the words before they formed on my lips. “Long run. A little work. Maybe go out for drinks with some friends. Read. Not sure yet.”
“Is that what you do with your downtime?”
“Pretty much. Other than running, I don’t really have any serious hobbies. No cycling. No art photography. Wait, I take that back. My dad and I have a near continuous game of Scrabble going that we play on our tablets. So, if that counts, then I’ve got running and Scrabble. Wanna play?
“Scrabble? With your dad?”
“No, with me, silly.”
“Sure. I haven’t played in years. Send me a link to the app you use. Should be fun kicking your ass from a thousand miles away.”
It was like he was here. Well, almost. I miss you , I wanted to say. I really miss you. Instead, I said things like, “I’m getting ready for a 10K next month” and “Have you been to that new dim sum place on Union in Midtown?”
“Thanks for breakfast, beautiful. Have a great day.”
I said, “You, too. Bye,” while I thought, How is it possible that I miss you so much?
We played Scrabble like addicts over the next few days, each jonesing for a hit of the other, sneaking in plays while checking phones during meetings. I played “quest” on a double word, further extending my lead in points over him. He countered with “suck,” accompanied in the chat window with the word “my” and a rather descriptive image created solely out of dashes and a few other well-placed characters.
A penis. It’s like I’m dating a thirteen year old boy sometimes.
A couple plays later, I went for it and laid down, ‘boobs,’ playing off his ‘blanket’ and forsaking a triple letter space. It was Tuesday around two o’clock in Pennsylvania and I knew precisely what I was doing.
My cell phone rang around three o’clock in Memphis.
Two hours? He’s up to some serious shit at work if it takes him two hours to respond to ‘boobs.’
“Hi,” I said.
“I know that you just skipped playing ‘mobs’ on a triple letter. You just gave up a six point differential. You are trying to destroy me.”
“Eh, if it works,” I replied dismissively.
“Oh, it fucking works, Marisa. It worked when I looked at my phone in the middle of a meeting with the division’s marketing director and got a fucking hard on. New rule. No body parts. None. No exceptions.”
“You’re raging at me from the word ‘boobs’? Dude, you need to get some action.”
Am I toying with him too much?
“I would if I could, trust me. And you’d definitely know it.”
Nah. Not toying too much.
“Looking forward to it. Very much so.” I twirled a pen between my fingers and leaned back into my office chair. “So tomorrow I’ve got lunch
“For a few more hours. After we get off, off the phone, that is, I’m headed to New York.”
I ignored his overt request for phone sex. “So, you’re meeting with the Johnson and Bales team to talk about what to do with the Duquette situation?”
“Yes, and I’m also meeting with some of our bankers as well. Thinking about issuing some commercial paper to finance a project Dad and I have been discussing. In fact, he’s meeting me there.”
I tried to remember from second year of law school what exactly commercial paper was. I only knew that this meant they were talking about taking on some significant debt, so it must be a big deal. “That sounds promising. What’s the plan?”
“I’d tell you, but I’d have to get you to sign an NDA.”
“Seriously? You need me to sign a non-disclosure agreement to tell me?” I’m your lawyer and your girlfriend and you don’t trust me? What the hell? Okay, calm down. He’s probably got a reason.
“Yup, as you say. So, that’s what I’ve got on tap for the weekend. A series of rousing meetings with bankers in boardrooms. What are your plans?”
“Not sure.” I was hoping you’d come home. Or invite me to New York , I thought . But I bit back the words before they formed on my lips. “Long run. A little work. Maybe go out for drinks with some friends. Read. Not sure yet.”
“Is that what you do with your downtime?”
“Pretty much. Other than running, I don’t really have any serious hobbies. No cycling. No art photography. Wait, I take that back. My dad and I have a near continuous game of Scrabble going that we play on our tablets. So, if that counts, then I’ve got running and Scrabble. Wanna play?
“Scrabble? With your dad?”
“No, with me, silly.”
“Sure. I haven’t played in years. Send me a link to the app you use. Should be fun kicking your ass from a thousand miles away.”
It was like he was here. Well, almost. I miss you , I wanted to say. I really miss you. Instead, I said things like, “I’m getting ready for a 10K next month” and “Have you been to that new dim sum place on Union in Midtown?”
“Thanks for breakfast, beautiful. Have a great day.”
I said, “You, too. Bye,” while I thought, How is it possible that I miss you so much?
We played Scrabble like addicts over the next few days, each jonesing for a hit of the other, sneaking in plays while checking phones during meetings. I played “quest” on a double word, further extending my lead in points over him. He countered with “suck,” accompanied in the chat window with the word “my” and a rather descriptive image created solely out of dashes and a few other well-placed characters.
A penis. It’s like I’m dating a thirteen year old boy sometimes.
A couple plays later, I went for it and laid down, ‘boobs,’ playing off his ‘blanket’ and forsaking a triple letter space. It was Tuesday around two o’clock in Pennsylvania and I knew precisely what I was doing.
My cell phone rang around three o’clock in Memphis.
Two hours? He’s up to some serious shit at work if it takes him two hours to respond to ‘boobs.’
“Hi,” I said.
“I know that you just skipped playing ‘mobs’ on a triple letter. You just gave up a six point differential. You are trying to destroy me.”
“Eh, if it works,” I replied dismissively.
“Oh, it fucking works, Marisa. It worked when I looked at my phone in the middle of a meeting with the division’s marketing director and got a fucking hard on. New rule. No body parts. None. No exceptions.”
“You’re raging at me from the word ‘boobs’? Dude, you need to get some action.”
Am I toying with him too much?
“I would if I could, trust me. And you’d definitely know it.”
Nah. Not toying too much.
“Looking forward to it. Very much so.” I twirled a pen between my fingers and leaned back into my office chair. “So tomorrow I’ve got lunch
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