“Oh. Okay.”
“Hey, no pouting.”
“You are supposed to take me on the boat today.”
“Damn, I forgot. I’m sorry, Em, I can’t today.”
Her lip began to quiver.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m coming back in a few weeks. We’ll go then, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t forget.” She fiddled with the doll in her hand.
“You bet, Em-em. I will come back, and I will teach you to sail. You’ll be my first mate. Sound good?”
“No. You’re the first mate”
He laughed.
“Aye aye, captain. Kiss on the cheek?”
“Nope. You gotta marry me for us to kiss. Bye, Nave.” She punched him in the thigh as hard as she could and ran off.
Nathan’s absence hit her hard. She would stare out the window across the pristine lawn that separated their homes and quietly cry. She would sneak into his bedroom and hide in his closet. She wouldn’t eat for days. Her father was about to throw in the towel and take her to a psychologist for her understandable abandonment issues when Nathan came back for a one-week fall break. After that, things had gotten easier. Nathan always prepared her before he left and made her promise to do small tasks for him while he was gone. The Bishops had a chocolate lab named Winchester that Nathan needed her to brush once a day and, hopefully, teach a trick. He wanted her to find him a really good skipping stone. He asked her to learn a greeting and three essential phrases in four different languages. He kept her busy and came home enough that she was able to adjust to his absence that year.
After that, everything changed in her world. It was like she had moved to a different planet. Now, though, she realized that she was obviously in the same solar system because Nathan Bishop was still her sun.
She was jarred from her thoughts by her phone dancing across the desk. She rarely answered unknown numbers, but her daydreaming had put her in an uncharacteristically romantic mood, and she imagined Nathan’s urbane voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Porter?”
“Yes?”
“This is Aggie, Mr. Bishop’s assistant.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Bishop would like you to meet him at the back bar of the Gotham Hotel tonight at 9:30.”
“I thought we were meeting at noon tomorrow?”
“Mr. Bishop felt an introductory meeting was in order. You are to meet him tonight.”
No request, no option. No way.
“I’m sorry, Aggie. Tonight doesn’t work.”
Ha. Take that.
“Could you hold please?”
“Sure.”