The Cornerstone (22 page)

“Knock, knock.” I
leaned against Sam’s door while he pored over the blueprints on his desk. “Have a minute to spare?”

He nodded, and rolled up the plans. “Sure.”

I waved a take-out menu. “I was going to place a lunch order. Did you want anything?”

“I’m good,” he said, pointing to a covered glass bowl that appeared to contain kale and apples. He hadn’t said much, but his tone was decidedly cool. He wasn’t interested in this chat. “What’s up?”

“Just a few things.” I studied my palm while thinking through the list of things I wanted to cover before getting to the ‘Hey, your girlfriend is kind of a bitch. What’s that all about?’ discussion. “Your dry cleaning was dropped off this morning, and it’s in the back seat of your car. I checked in with your endocrinologist’s office, and your appointment is next Monday afternoon. They’ll have you do some blood work too, so I blocked that time on your calendar. I sorted out your expenses from last month, and assigned costs to clients as best as I could determine. I’ll need you to look it over, but that will be quick. And I had Tom arrange your travel to that conference in January, the one in Arizona.” I traced the circumference of my bracelets before glancing up. “I was really bummed that I didn’t get to meet Tiel. Everyone said she was…intriguing.”

His expression shifted from disinterested to sharply defensive in an instant, and I swallowed hard. I hated fighting with Sam. He interpreted everything as a personal attack, and while I was often hit with the ‘holds a grudge forever’ stick, he was the one who really struggled to let things go.

“Tiel
is
intriguing,” he said, his eyebrow arched. “I’ve never met anyone with so many accomplishments, and I have to practically beat them out of her. It’s refreshing to meet people who don’t view themselves as gifts to this planet.”

“And some people are attorneys, Sam.” I held up my hands, resigned to the fact I was playing the part of the enemy today. Might as well embrace it.

“So it wasn’t rose petals and rainbows,” he continued. “I seem to remember you going all corporate commando the first time Matt brought Lauren here.”

“That was because Riley was being a juvenile delinquent.” I shifted in my seat, girding myself against the blowback that was bound to come next. “Look. I’ve heard several times that dinner was tense, and your guest was a hard pill to swallow. I’d just like to hear about it from you. Are you trying to prove a point, or going through some kind of angry girl phase?”

I picked at the hem of my skirt while anger—fast-breathing, wide-eyed, jaw-twitching anger—rippled through Sam.

“Has it occurred to you that
we
are a bit intense, and not everyone handles this tribe the same way?” he asked.

“No, not really.” The last thing he wanted was me invading more of his space, so I did exactly that and scooted closer, folding my arms on his desk. “It has occurred to me that you might be having some difficulties coping with stress. We’ve been talking about Angus’s estate and the work at Wellesley a lot, and I know those are triggers for you. I don’t think adding a toxic relationship with this girl is going to help you, and maybe it’s time to get an appointment with Dr. Robertsen.”

“Shannon, I’m going to say this once.”

His breath whooshed out as he stood, his palms flat on his desk, and I couldn’t decide whether his fury stemmed from talk of Tiel or his generally irritable disposition these days. I was no stranger to macho chest-thumping, but this seemed more complicated than standing up for his lady.

Sam closed his eyes, his chest heaving, and pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out of my office.”

Riley stood in the doorway, his fingers raking through his thick hair. “What did you do?” he mouthed.

“Nothing good,” I whispered.

“And thank you kindly for that,” Riley said under his breath, his gaze on Sam. “Now I get to spend the afternoon with the Hulk.”

Sam blew out a long breath and looked up at us. He did that a lot—counting, deep breathing, tuning into his heart rate—but it didn’t appear to be working today.

“Hey,” Riley said, slow and friendly, as if he was trying to coax a skittish puppy to his side. “We’re walking properties this afternoon, right?” He made a show of looking at his notebook, and back up at Sam. “Yeah, you wanted to check out the Turlan basement now that the power washing is finished. We also have five others to see.”

I waited while Sam tossed his things into his messenger bag and stormed out of his office, and then I glanced back to Riley. “That was productive,” I murmured.

“Don’t do this to me, Black Widow,” he sighed. “He’s going to be a hellcat all night and I don’t have time to babysit his ass. My fantasy football team is last in my league right now.”

“Do you think he’s all right?”

Riley tucked his notebook away, shrugging. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing.”

I nodded. “Same.”

*

Shannon:
Any chance you’re around?

Will:
At your service, ma’am

Shannon:
When did you get back?

Will:
Couple of hours ago

Shannon:
Did everything go well? What’s the preferred outcome for these things?

Will:
Decent training op. Everyone came back, and with all limbs.

Will:
Fucking tired though.

Shannon:
You should sleep. I’ll talk to you later

Will:
You’ll talk to me now.

Will:
What’s up?

Shannon:
You know what I hate

Will:
Chicken on a bone

Shannon:
Well, yes, but other things too

Will:
The use of the word cunt

Will:
Which, I have to tell you, I don’t understand. I figured you’d be all over that one. Think of the inventive ways you could mix up your insults.

Will:
I’d be excited about you calling me a rusty old cunt or something.

Shannon:
You finished?

Will:
Yes ma’am.

Will:
Tell me all the things you hate

Shannon:
I hate when people expect me to be the bitch. Like, they just assume my cold, dark heart beats for the sole purpose of being awful.

Shannon:
And yes, sometimes, I have to strap on the balls and be the bitch because that’s what I do here but I hate when people can’t see that there’s a difference between me and my role.

Shannon:
It’s really fucking messy because my family and my work are indistinguishable. Right now, Sam thinks I’m the most evil bitch in the world because I suggested he talk things through with his psychiatrist

Shannon:
And because he’s too busy being a man to acknowledge that a lot of things are changing in his life right now and he needs some help processing it all

Shannon:
Not because I think he’s mentally ill, deranged, or unfit for society. Because it helps to talk things out

Shannon:
But no. to him, therapy is for pussies and he freaks when he thinks people are criticizing him, and I’m the worst

Shannon:
He’s gone out of his way to avoid speaking to me for the past four days because of this.

Will:
You want me to kill him?

Shannon:
No but I appreciate the offer

Will:
Anytime

Will:
You’re not a bitch, peanut.

Shannon:
I’m pretty sure you’ve been telling me otherwise for months

Will:
I’m allowed to insult you. I make up for it in orgasms. Those other fuckers are not, and God help them if they upset you again.

Shannon:
Why do you say that?

Will:
What? That I’ll kick their pathetic asses?

Shannon:
Yes

Will:
Because I will

Shannon:
But why?

Will:
There are a lot of reasons.

Shannon:
Give me some of them

Will:
I care about you. I don’t like it when you’re upset and stressed. I’d like to teach your brothers something about not being dickheads

Will:
Come to Mexico. Please.

Shannon:
I just told you how fucked up my life is right now and you want to make it more fucked up by telling our families about this arrangement of ours?

Will:
We don’t have to tell anyone anything.

Shannon:
No, we probably do

Will:
Then let me handle it while you drink tequila and chill the fuck out

Will:
Think about it

*

Will:
Still thinking?

Will:
Shannon?

*

Will:
I think you’re forgetting that I can see when you’ve read my messages…

*

Will:
Just tell me when you intend to ignore me.

Shannon:
I’m ignoring you.

Will:
Fucking finally! thank you! Now think about Mexico while you ignore me.

WILL

Eleven months ago

Will:
Where are you right now?

Shannon:
What? Your spy satellite isn’t working?

Will:
The word you’re looking for is drone, and no, it is not tracking you