CE O

by M T Stone

Pulling up to the beach house, I grab the fish and head inside. I’m thinking I’ll throw a fillet on the grill with some onions, lemon, butter, and veggies. That has always been my favorite meal out here, and besides, it’s fast and simple. I set the largest fillet on the counter and toss the rest into the freezer. Walking over to the patio door, I see a black bag leaning against the glass. That can only belong to one person. I walk back to the wine fridge and pull out the best Pinot Grigio I can find and pop the cork. I pull out a second piece of fish for dinner and grab two wine glasses from above the bar. I was hoping to avoid thinking about work for a little longer, but it’s obviously going to be a working dinner. At least a glass or two of wine will help her take the edge off. I think back to the carefree days of our youth, back when we had nothing to do but spend our days out here having fun. It would be nice to see that version of my old friend again.

  “What a gorgeous afternoon for September,” I comment, startling her a bit as I approach her chair from behind.

  “Oh, my God. I never even heard you drive up,” she replies, sitting up in her chair and grabbing her cover up.

  “Just relax. I brought you a glass of wine.” I extend it to her and give her a smile. “I thought we could just sit out here and enjoy the sunshine before making some dinner.”

  “Thank you,” she replies, giving me a guarded smile and taking the glass. “I see you were hitting the scotch pretty hard last night. What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” I step across the adjacent chair and drop into it. I take a long sip of wine before setting the glass on the armrest. “I’m just feeling like I’ve been on a treadmill for so long, and now, things are only going to get worse.”

  “I know,” Kayla replies, reaching over and stroking my forearm. “When I couldn’t reach you by phone, I knew something was really bothering you. So, I went ahead and got Davis to cover your court appearance tomorrow morning and Bill is meeting with Simpson Industries in the afternoon.”

  I instantly felt another stab in my gut. “Dad is going to be furious when he finds out. Bill has been trying to weasel his way into the Simpson file ever since Dad accepted the judgeship. I can’t believe you would give him the meeting.”

  “I’m sorry, but he was the only one who could fit them in on such short notice,” she replies. “I know your dad and Bill have had some turf battles over the last few years, but I think it’s time you let the other senior partners pull their weight. You can’t handle it all.”

  “I know. You’re right.” I take another long sip from the glass. “If I let him handle Simpson, then it will make my October a lot less painful. Dad’s just going to have to get over it.”

  “I know Oliver Simpson was one of your dad’s first clients, but he has to realize that Oliver is retired and it’s not the same business that it was twenty-five years ago. They need a senior partner and at least two full-time corporate attorneys who can give them the attention they need.” She squeezes my arm before pulling back and leaning back in the chair. “I’m not against having a talk with your dad.”

  I laugh out loud. “Thank you, but no. That’s the last thing I need, you fighting my battles.”

  “What? Your dad loves me. I know I can get him to listen.” She turns back toward me with an intense look in her eyes.

  “Yes, we all love you, but I need to talk to him myself. Otherwise, he’ll give me the lecture about dignity and self-respect.” I take another sip of wine and scan down the beach. “I miss the days when Paul, you, and I would spend the entire day out on the boat.”

  “Me too,” she says with a complete change in her demeanor. “I was thinking earlier about our first kiss behind those rocks.” She points down the beach toward the spot where we spent many lazy days. “Do you remember that?”

  “Yeah, I remember it well.” I feel a flicker of warmth inside me that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. “I had such a crush on you that summer, but you thought I was just a kid. You had your eye on Spenser Christian because he was a senior. You were always into the older boys.” I take in her gorgeous, shapely legs and smile at the beaded leather ankle bracelet that she’s wearing. I’m sort of shocked to see she still wears them. I’ve always found them sexy as hell. In fact, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her in anything other than a pantsuit that I had kind of forgotten about those thick thighs and shapely calves of hers.

  “It was just weird that you were two years behind me, you know?” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I think it would’ve been different if we were in the same grade. Looking back, it was really stupid.”

  “Ahh, so much water under the bridge since that first kiss, and now here we are, twenty years later.” I reach out to clink her glass. “Here’s to the next twenty years. God help us.”

  Kayla

  Sitting here on the beach and talking with him makes me not only wonder what I was thinking back then, but what the hell I’ve been thinking for the twenty years since. There has always been a strict rule about dating employees within the firm, so we have both used that as the reason to never pursue anything. But seriously, I would give up my job in a heartbeat if I knew we had a chance together. Then the reality of it all hits me. I’ve seen the girls that he takes on his weekend retreats. Young, vibrant and beautiful. There is no way that this thirty-six-year-old body can compete with them. Not that I’m out of shape. I lift weights and do yoga and Pilates to keep in shape, but fifteen years of gravity have left me at a distinct disadvantage.

  Blake, on the other hand, looks the same as he did the day he graduated from college. He got those genes from his dad. JD turned sixty-five several months ago and he’s still a lady killer. At least he would be if he were single. He’s one of those guys who just gets more distinguished looking with each passing birthday. I think Blake will be the same way as long as he stops living so hard.

  “Are you happy?” he asks out of the blue, turning in his chair to directly face me.

  Am I happy? Hell no, are the words that immediately flash through my brain. After dating Ron, the CPA who was as much fun as a cardboard cutout, for two years, I finally called it off a few months back. Since then, I’ve basically been celibate. I get up at five to squeeze in a Pilates class before getting ready for work, I work an average ten-hour day, and then I lift weights and do yoga before going home to a “meal prepped” dinner for one. It’s really quite an exhilarating life. “Yeah, things are pretty good,” I reply, lying through my teeth.

  “You like working with me?” he asks, shifting to a more serious look.

  “I love working with you. You know that.” I reach out and place my hand on his. “I can’t imagine what my world would be like without you in it.” Hmm, that came out a little more dramatic than I intended. Now he really looks serious. “Are you happy?”

  “Ha!” He laughs, shaking his head. “When was the last time you saw me happy?”

  “Well, you’ve never really been the giddy type, but you’ve got a pretty sweet life,” I reply, giving him a crossways glare. “You’re loaded, control a multi-billion-dollar firm, and have a steady stream of hotties to sleep with who never ask for anything in return. What more could you want?”

  “Other than the fact that I don’t like being an attorney, I’m getting too old for twenty-two-year-old interns, and I feel like I’ve been running wide open on a treadmill that will never stop until I drop . . .” He glares back at me, obviously looking for a little sympathy. “I know. I should be happy.”

  “I’m not saying it’s easy. I know you work a lot longer hours than me. I honestly couldn’t do it.” I continue to rub my hand along his forearm. “But there are millions of guys out there who would switch places with you in a heartbeat.”

  His phone buzzes and he looks down at the screen in disgust. “This is the main reason I’m not happy.” He turns the screen toward me, revealing a picture of JD. “He left me a twenty-two-minute voicemail message this morning. I’m sure he lectured me the entire way to the federal building, a
nd now he just got off work, so he’s calling to give me another earful.”

  “So that’s why your voicemail was full right away this morning.” I laugh, looking up toward the sun, which is starting to sag in the western sky. “I’m glad I couldn’t get ahold of you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have driven out here. I had forgotten how beautiful it is out here.”

  “It’s awesome. Fuck, now he sent me a text message. He must really be pissed. He never sends text messages.” He sits there for a moment, debating whether to read it. Instead, he clicks the power button and tosses the phone facedown on the table next to him. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow . . . maybe.” He lets out a long breath. “He probably found out that Bill is meeting with Simpson Industries,” he says, shaking his head. “Meanwhile, I’m out here sitting on my ass and drinking wine with my executive assistant.” He tips his glass toward me before finishing it off. “It’s too bad you like your job so much.”

  “Why?” I ask, suddenly confused. “Don’t you like having me work for you?”

  “Actually, I have thought about firing you a few times.” He stands up, grabbing the half-bottle of scotch that had been resting next to the chair and turning to walk toward the house. “Come on. Let’s go make some dinner.”

  Chapter 4

  Blake

  Relaxing on the beach with Kayla has stirred up a whole lot of unresolved feelings from twenty years ago, back when I knew what I wanted in life. Ever since I was ten years old, I wanted to be a fishing guide or an action adventure photographer. Instead, I spend my entire week trapped between my office, conference rooms, and the courthouse, interviewing clients and dealing with an endless blizzard of paperwork. My oldest brother, James the fourth, had a real knack for numbers and lacked the personality that it takes to be an attorney. He’s happy as hell being buried in numbers and spreadsheets all day. I have no clue how he can do what he does either. My other brother, Collin, is a computer geek, obsessed with video games and coding from the time he was old enough to hold a keyboard. He went to work for Google right out of college and was one of their first software engineers, which was obviously a great move. My sister married a real estate developer and became a realtor, and they build and sell condominium complexes in Destin, Florida. In other words, by the time I was a sophomore in high school, it was just Mom, Dad, and me at home. In Dad’s mind, he had no choice but to double down on me. None of my older siblings were going to take over the family business, so he could no longer leave anything to chance.

  My grandfather’s dying wish was for me to one day take over the firm that he had founded. I’ll never forget the day he told me as I stood there in his hospital room, watching him take his final breaths. Dad knew how much I loved him, and looking back, I have to wonder whether that was really my grandfather’s wish or if Dad had just used him to manipulate me. After all, grandfather barely recognized me the last few times I saw him. He knew how much I loved the outdoors and that I was obsessed with fishing and photography. I can’t imagine he would’ve really wanted me to be trapped in an office day after day.

  “What’s going on with you?” Kayla asks, grabbing me from behind and swinging me around toward her as I reach for the patio door.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not immediately connecting the dots.

  “I thought we were having a nice time reminiscing about the past, and now you admit that you’ve been thinking about firing me?” The fire blazes in those beautiful hazel eyes of hers.

  “Come here. I want to show you something.” I open the door and motion for her go through ahead of me. “There’s some aluminum foil in the pantry. Why don’t you grab it and I’ll be right back?”

  I head up the stairway and down the hall to the back of the house where the servant’s quarters are located. There’s a room back there that was our hangout when we were kids, and it has basically remained unchanged for the past two decades. Coming in here reaffirms the feelings I’m having about the old days, when my life made sense. Back when I could spend the day doing what I loved to do and was madly in love with my best friend, who wouldn’t even consider dating me. I grab an old photo album and tuck it under my arm before heading back down to the kitchen.

  “This is some old Reynolds Wrap,” she says, looking at the box in amazement. “This has to be from the eighties or something.”

  I laugh, looking at the box. “The only ones who ever used it were Grandpa and me. The last time I used it was several years ago, when I had that little breakdown. Here, I’ll take that. You sit down and look at this.” I hand her the photo album in exchange.

  She gives me a confused look before pulling the book from my hand and taking a seat at the counter. I know she was confused by my statement, but things might be a little clearer by the time she reaches the end of the book.

  Kayla

  My head is still spinning from his not so subtle admission that he has been thinking about getting rid of me. Just an hour earlier, he had asked me if I was happy. He must have been hoping I would say no. That way, he could fire me with a clear conscience. He really infuriates me sometimes, the self-absorbed bastard. I dropped everything and came out here because I was worried about him. How could he even think about firing me?

  I open the book, and the first page is a big picture of the two of us at his twelfth birthday party. That was the first time I was out here. We had such a good time. After that day, we would both beg our parents to let me come out here with them whenever it wasn’t a holiday weekend. I smile and turn the page. I get a little emotional upon seeing the huge sand castle we built on the beach. It was more like a sand mansion. I remember how much fun we had building a moat around it and filling it with water. I also remember how devastated we were the following weekend when we found it had been destroyed by a summer rain.

  Page after page, the memories flood back into my life. Ever since I started working with him, we spend the majority of the week together, so I guess it has pacified me a bit. But looking through all of these pictures literally makes my heart ache for how much fun we had together in our youth. “I remember being annoyed that your mom was always taking pictures of us, but what a gift.”

  “Is there anything you notice as you look through them?” he asks, coming up behind me and slipping his arm around me.

  “We spent a lot of time out here and we were pretty awesome at building sand castles?” I ask, not really knowing what he meant.

  “No,” he replies, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He begins to turn the pages and points to our mouths in the pictures. Page after page, picture after picture reveals nothing but toothy smiles. Not the fake smiles that kids so often do for pictures—those smiles were genuine. “Neither of us have smiled like that in years.”

  Tears immediately spring from my eyes at the realization. “You’re right. We always had a good time when we were together. It didn’t really matter what we were doing.”

  He steps back and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Look at us. A couple of saps. I honestly can’t remember the last time I got choked up like this.” He grabs the foil and rips off a couple of sheets. “Let’s cook some fish. I must be getting low blood sugar or something.”

  “Showing emotion is part of being human,” I tease, shaking my head and wiping my own eyes. Why is it that guys feel like they have to be stone cold all the time? “A real man isn’t afraid to show a little emotion now and then.”

  “I guess I’m finally becoming a real man then, huh?” he asks with a slight curl to his lips.

  “Hey, do you remember this swimsuit?” I point to a picture of myself when I was a senior in high school. I was so tan that summer and spent most of my time in a little white bikini. “I remember thinking I was really hot in that.”

  “You were really hot,” he replies, his grin broadening. “By that summer, I absolutely knew that I was in love with you. But that was the year you had a thing for Bradley Davis, remember? He was a sophomore at NYU.”

  “Yes, I remember.
He was pretty good looking back then,” I reply in a weak defense.

  “Yeah, have you seen him now?” he laughs. “I don’t think I would even have a Facebook account if I had let myself go like that.” He seems to revel in the fact as he adds the carrots, lemon wedges, and butter to the foil packets and rolls them up. He looks like a natural in the kitchen. “I’m going to go put these on the grill. You keep looking through that book.” He gives me a wink on his way out the door.

  As I continue to look through the book, I’m amazed by how many pictures there are of the two of us. Paul is in a few of them, but mostly, it’s just Blake and me. Whenever I have thought back to high school and college, I have always thought about how much time we spent together, but it’s kind of overwhelming to see it all laid out like this. We were basically inseparable.

  Blake

  Stoking up the wood fired grill, I take a moment to take in the cool evening air and the smell of the igniting wood. This is a million miles from a normal Monday night for me. I glance at my watch. Normally, I would be slaving away at my office, eating a meal that had been delivered from one of the dozen five-star restaurants in the area. Bringing one of my favorite meals into my office was normally the last thing Kayla would do for me before leaving for the evening. They are always delicious, but I rarely take the time to enjoy them because I’m so absorbed with casework. Like most of my life these days, I simply go through the motions. I set the temperature on the grill and set both foil packets on the top rack. In fifteen minutes, they will be grilled to perfection. I set a timer on my phone.

  “You don’t have to fire me,” Kayla announces in a reflective voice as I return to the kitchen. She slides a piece of paper across the counter toward me.

  “What’s this?” I reach out and stop it before it goes over the edge.

  “My resignation.” Her voice cracks as she says it out loud. “I quit.”