“Yeah! I’d love that. Let me ask Allison, in case she has some work for me.”
I checked in with Allison and then joined Michael in one of the conference rooms. Our first meeting was with a wealthy widow who wanted her money to be given out to a variety of indigenous organizations for the next quarter. After that was the arbiter of an estate plan that was focused on the Fort Perth First Church of Christ. The third meeting was with a twenty-something tech nerd who had made a bunch of money on cryptocurrency and was only interested in all the ways he could reduce his taxable income. I mostly remained quiet during the meetings, while Michael did all the talking.
“I guess it’s still a good thing that he’s donating a hundred grand to charity?” Michael said while we ate lunch together afterward. “Even if it’s for selfish reasons.”
“Is there such a thing as a purely selfless deed?” I wondered out loud.
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” I opened the lid to my homemade salad and stirred it with a fork. “Most of the donors we’ve met want to be listed on the donation page. Or they want to be recognized by the charities their money is going toward. Very few people make a massive donation anonymously. And even those who do are probably doing it because it makes themfeelgood.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” Michael said after thinking about it. He crossed one leg over the other and drummed his fingers on his knee. “The most important thing is the good that is created by their donation. Two indigenous tribes are getting upgraded school computers thanks to Mrs. Atchinson’s donation. The Monroe estate’s generosity allows the Fort Perth First Church of Christ to be able to fund more after-school programs for at-risk kids. And the crypto-bro wasn’t altruistic at all, but our general fund is now a little bit larger thanks to his six-figure donation. Would the world be better off if hedidn’tmake the donation, since it was for selfish tax reasons?”
I chewed on that for a bit. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think I know either,” he admitted. “But I’m glad peopledodonate their wealth, regardless of the reason.”
“Are you just saying that because it means you have a job?” I teased.
Michael picked off a piece of bread from his sandwich and tossed it at me. I yelped, then grabbed my can of Diet Dr. Pepper and pretended like I was going to hurl it at him. He didn’t even flinch, so I put the can down and glared at him. He laughed and resumed eating his sandwich while enjoying the view out the window of the conference room.
I found myself a lot more relaxed around Michael than I was last week. On Friday, there was an intense sexual tension whenever he was in my office, or I was in his. Not to mention at the bar on Friday while we got to know each other. But now, the two of us were at ease. There was still some electric energy between us, but it no longer made me awkward.
It’s probably because I got laid.On Friday at the bar, I was afraid of screwing things up with Michael and saying the wrong thing, because it might tank any chances with him—as slim as they were. Now, all of that pressure was gone. I could be myself around him.
“You seem to be settling in here nicely,” Michael said, like he was reading my mind. “You already look and act more comfortable on the job. It’s always easier after the first week, right?”
“Right,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t blushing. “No more first-week jitters. That must be it.”
“It helps that you haven’t cut anyone’s hand open in over a week,” he added casually.
I groaned. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”
Michael flashed me a perfect white smile. “Yep.”
“Am I ever going to live it down?”
“Nope!”
I let out a long sigh, which made him laugh. Then I laughed with him. I was still embarrassed about the bloody cut during my interview, but his teasing actually helped soften the memory.
“Got any plans tonight?” Michael began to ask.
August picked that moment to stride into the conference room. “Settle down you two. Cut the laughter. This is a professional office, not the girl’s bathroom at a Chuck E. Cheese.” He reached across the conference table to grab a potato chip, but Michael slapped his hand away. August yelped and cradled his wrist.
“That’s assault,” he said, turning toward me. “You saw it. You’ll be my star witness in the trial.”
“Technically, it wasbattery,” Michael replied. “Also, don’t be a baby.”
“I didn’t bring a lunch. You wouldn’t let your best buddy starve, would you?”
“Should’ve meal-planned better,” Michael replied.
“Want some of my salad?” I asked, raising the bowl toward him.
August eyed the salad, then picked out a piece of grilled chicken and plopped it in his mouth. “Mikey, you’re fired. I’m giving Ginny your job. It comes with a fat raise.”
“Yesss,” I said.