“Smart boy,” the professor also known as Dan said with a twinkle in his eye. “No direct answer. Spoken like a true attorney. I suppose most people will take their exam as soon as possible. Impatient to get to work, and all of that. Perhaps you don’t have that same concern? Given your unique set of circumstances and all.”
“My circumstances?” I asked, actually paying attention now.
“But of course. Your father runs one of the most successful oil companies in the world. One of the most successful companies in the world period. Sitting comfortably in the top two hundred fifty companies for what, years now? Let’s just say, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to forego law in favor of taking over the family business. Nepotism gets a bad rap, but sometimes it’s the best decision. The best decision by far. Why not start out with something you already know for sure is going to be a success?”
“Right,” I said, faking a laugh. At that moment, I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t a fan of Professor Dan in the slightest. “I can see how a person would think that. As for me, though, I think I’ll take my chances doing the lawyer thing.”
“Really?” he asked me with a look of skepticism so smug, I wanted to reach out and physically smack it off his face. “Is that so?”
“It is. Besides, my father is never going to retire. It would be pointless for me to try and make plans around taking over the family business. He’s going to be heading that company up when he’s a hundred years old. I have to figure out something to keep me occupied in the meantime.”
“Ah, one of those,” the good professor answered in a commiserating tone. As if he could even come close to understanding what I was talking about.
He went on to talk about who the fuck knew what? He droned on and on, as if I gave a damn what he had to say. Law school had been good to me, but one thing I most definitely wouldn’t miss were the pompous asses who oversaw our education. I had put up with them while in class, because getting top grades was more important than anything else. Now that I didn’t need them anymore, I was having a bitch of a time pretending to tolerate the company of the professors mingling with the students at this party. A man could only fake a smile for so long.
I was more than a little grateful when I saw my buddy Alastair approaching us with a very serious look on his face. Alastair was originally from London, but he’d been living in the States for many years. I had met him our first year at Yale, when the two of us had quickly established a system of looking out for each other and helping the other out of unpleasant, seemingly endless conversations.
I had no doubt that his serious, almost grief-stricken, expression now was a part of that ruse. I made a mental note to buy him a beer later on, once we were free of all these stupid professors who couldn’t seem to let us go, now that we were on our way out of Yale’s door and headed out into the real world.
“Neil,” Alastair said in a low, serious voice as he put one hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, mate.”
“What’s the trouble?” Professor Dan asked pompously, immediately going into control mode. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Alastair repeated, really putting on a good show, one worthy of an Oscar in my humble opinion. “It’s terribly rude of me to interrupt. It’s just, there’s a phone call for him. About his father.”
“I better take this,” I cut in with my own grave tone, doing my best not to crack a smile and ruin the whole show. “Please, excuse me.”
“Of course! Of course, Neil. Please let me know if you need anything.”
The good professor turned to go. After watching to make sure that he was well out of sight, I turned to Alastair with a grin spreading across my face. Unfortunately, it was a grin that never made it to its full potential. My friend’s expression had not changed. He looked afraid and sad and a little bit like he was going to throw up. Nothing that suggested he was just trying to help me out of a bad conversation.
“What’s the matter, man? You look like shit.”
“I wasn’t bullshitting you,” he said. “There was a phone call. You weren’t near your phone, and it kept ringing. So I picked it up.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” I asked.
“It’s your father, Neil. He’s gone. He’s passed away.”
Chapter 3: Fay
“Where the hell is the waiter?” Courtney asked. “Can’t he tell I’m going to die here if I don’t get my drink?”
“I’m pretty sure what you need is a glass of water, by the look of you.”
“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I laughed. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
I took a sip of my coke and mentally thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t suffering from the kind of hangover Courtney clearly was. I was well aware that most people thought I was a bit of a goody-goody, but that was something I was definitely okay with. Especially if it meant that I didn’t have to feel as shitty as Courtney did during one of her legendary hangovers.
One of those hangovers had her so terribly cranky at the moment, cranky enough that she poked her lip out at me, like she used to do to her parents when we were little and she wasn’t getting her way.
“Fine, go ahead and make fun, Fay. At least I know how to have fun.”
“Do you really consider this fun, though? You don’t look like you’re having fun. You look like you feel terrible.”
“You may be right,” Courtney answered with a sly little smile, something I was glad to see. It meant that any chance of us getting into a fight had most likely passed. “But I had a hell of a good time last night.”