Not even a little.
“And can we not forget he gave you an envelope of cash before he snuck out in the middle of the night?”
That reminds me. “I need you to take it and give it back to Eli, please. I don’t want it.”
She nods. “Of course.” Then pauses, thinking. “Or you could buy yourself something nice. Like plane tickets to the Bahamas.”
She’s right, I could. He left me enough to do something fun with it, but it feels like dirty money, and I want no part of it.
“Donate it?”
“No—just have it sent back to him, please.”
“Good. That will send a message saying you’re not interested.”
I wish I had as much conviction as she did, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t.
I was embarrassed he left without saying goodbye BEFORE he sent this legal document but now? Amplify that by a billion.
“Posey, I’m not trying to be a buzzkill, I swear. I’m simply trying to keep your feet on the ground. I told you from the very beginning that Duke Colter is an asshole.”
“But that’s the thing, Molly—he’s not. He’s actually a decent guy.”
“Oh my God, you have Stockholm syndrome.”
That makes me laugh because it’s unexpected. “You’re such a dick,” I tell her.
“A dick who cares and worries about you.” She stands. “We’re going out this weekend. I’ll be your wingwoman, and we’re going to find someone to take your mind off this mess, okay? I’ll round up the girls. It’ll be fun.”
“Or I can just start decorating for Halloween.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not even summer vacation yet.”
“So?”
“I’ll touch base with you later.” Molly comes back to my side of the desk and plants a kiss to the top of my head. “Try not to think about all this.”
Easier said than done.
I do nothing but think about it.
And three days later, when I wake up and check my emails, there’s another one from Duke:
Hey Posey,
Following up on my last email—the one with the NDA attached. If you could get that signed and sent over soon so my agent can file it away, that would be great.
You’ll be glad to know I’ve settled into my parents' old place in downtown Dallas. It’s loud at night and not my cup of tea, but the noise won’t kill me I don’t suppose, till I can find a house or something. Kind of taken a shining to the burbs, ha!
Hope all is well.
Great.
Now he’s hounding me about the freaking legal document he wants back. I don’t think for one second he actually gives a shit about how I’m actually feeling or how I’m doing—and it shows. The entire (short) email was about what he’s up to and how he’s settled.
Whoop de do.
Work is a joke. I have children surrounding me all day, some of them causing trouble while the other ones are actually trying to learn from me—all the while my head is someplace entirely different.