Chapter 43

The receptionist looked stunned when Phil walked into Waterford & Waterford at 7:45 a.m. Monday.

“Who are you again?” she asked. Phil looked at her casual clothes, a sweatshirt and painted on jeans, and wondered if he was in the right place.

“I’m Philip Warner,” he said. “I’m to start work today. I was hired by Mr. Samuel Waterford in March to work here during my summer break.”

The woman’s work area was a train wreck and Phil wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t seem to locate anything.

“Mr. Waterford is away this week,” the woman said, digging frantically through a stack of papers. “What was it you were supposed to do?”

“That was to be determined this morning,” Phil said, trying his best to keep his temper in check. “He asked me last month to meet him this morning at 8:00 a.m.”

“Uh, perhaps you could take a seat,” the woman suggested. “Mr. Bradshaw is handling things in Mr. Waterford’s absence. I don’t expect him for a few more minutes.”

Phil took a seat and reflected on the weekend at the apartment. There had been palpable tension on Friday evening. Tiffany and Molly had been unhappy that they had ridden the entire rest of the way with one of Phil’s parents. Hailey had been pissed because of the way Phil had spoken to her. Katelyn had been mad because she’d gotten two shifts in the hot truck and Phil had been pretty much pissed at the world in general. Thursday night everyone went to bed angry and it carried over to breakfast on Friday.

After supper on Thursday, Phil had helped everyone get their belongings unpacked and gone to sit on the deck. His only major purchase since his last foray into the city had been a set of patio furniture to replace the plastic junk he’d grabbed out of storage the year before. He had thought about nipping downstairs to the bar and seeing if he could talk the owner into letting him steal a six pack of beer but had decided that was probably not the best idea – particularly since three of the occupants were already facing probation for drinking underage. Instead he had sipped a bottle of lukewarm water he’d bought at the last rest area and stared out at the city.

“We’re going to head out for a while,” Katelyn had said from behind him.

Phil had nodded but hadn’t spoken.

“My car’s down there if you want to use it,” he had offered tiredly.

“We need to learn the bus routes,” Katelyn had said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He had been certain that Hailey had already informed everyone what an asshole Phil was being about things.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” he had replied. “Don’t be afraid to take a taxi after dark. Those bus stops are a little dodgy in places. If you need a ride, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Sure thing,” Katelyn had said. She had leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. She hadn’t been sure why she’d done it other than because Phil had looked like he could use one. Beth had noticed from the car ahead that Phil and Hailey were having a heated discussion about something. She had a good idea of what it was but didn’t interfere. Her insistence on intruding into personal matters had put a serious strain on the relationship she had with her son and she wasn’t going down that road again. She had mentioned it to her passenger though.

Phil had listened to Katelyn close the door and had resumed his exploration of the city’s rooftops. It was several minutes later when he had heard the door open again. He had turned to see who was there and had been surprised to see Hailey.

“Mind if I join you?” she had asked.

“You’re always welcome,” Phil had replied. “When are you guys going out?”

“I’m not going,” she had told them. “They’re going to check the bus to see how long it will take for them to get to work. I work across the street. I’m golden.”

“True,” Phil had agreed. He wound up spending the whole evening alone with Hailey. They had gone to dinner together and they had walked along the city’s theatre district to see what was coming in the next few months.

Hailey had taken Phil’s hand and hadn’t released it until they had returned to the apartment. The scenario had repeated itself on Saturday and Sunday. Tiffany, Molly and Katelyn had been back by the time he and Hailey had returned on Saturday night but they had disappeared again by the time they crawled out of bed on Sunday morning. So Phil and Hailey spent a good part of the day in the park and had shared lunch at a sidewalk bistro.

“This is what I want, Phil,” Hailey had told him. “I have always let my friends be the center of my world. Even when I didn’t particularly care for some of them – when I just included them to improve my standing in a certain group – things revolved around them. I know I keep coming up with excuses for how I’m acting but the truth is that I have a lot to unlearn and it isn’t easy. I stayed popular – first in prep school and now in college – by being everything to everyone in the popular crowd and by intimidating the unpopular crowd. Whoever I was with or whoever I wanted something from next was who I focused on pleasing.

“I’ve thought about things a lot after we talked on Thursday. I realize I’m still trying to be all things to everyone. I know Tiffany and Molly want to do wild things and try stuff they’ve missed out. I’m trying to be that person for them. I know Katelyn wants to feel like she’s more than just a friend we keep around so no one calls us racist. I’m trying to be that for her even though race has nothing to do with it. In some ways I guess I view you as an interloper – or maybe as a threat to my popularity within our crowd. I’m not sure and I don’t know if a thousand hours on a psychologist’s couch would help me understand it. I know it’s ridiculous. If you had wanted to keep our friends to yourself, you could have done it last month. All you’d have had to do was explain to them that they could be friends with you or me but not both and I’d have been left to hang out with Chelsea and Alexandra again.

“So I spent most of Thursday night and all of Friday morning thinking about what I want. This is what I want. I want a relationship where you and I can spend all morning feeding squirrels in the park and then skip through the fountain afterward. I want to sit here and watch people walk past because I know they’re thinking, ‘look at that happy couple.’ We are a happy couple – or at least we can be if I get my head out of my ass. Things are going to be easier for us because our schedules are so much alike. We’re going to have time to do things together and to get to know each other. But I already know one thing; when I think about a day or a month or a year down the road, I can’t picture myself without you. As our friends get into relationships, they’re going to move on. We’re not, Phil. We’re not going to lose this unless you decide you want me to leave.”

Phil had listened to her words and he had believed her. He hadn’t been sure if it was because he thought she was being honest or because he had sincerely hoped she was.

The few minutes the receptionist at Waterford & Waterford had promised turned into an hour and a half. It was almost 9:30 a.m. when a man wearing shorts and a T-shirt came into the office and was immediately flagged down by the receptionist. She pointed frantically toward Phil and then at the papers on the desk and back to Phil.

There was a young woman about Phil’s age trailing in the man’s wake. She, too, was dressed in casual clothing – clothing probably too casual to be worn on a high school campus. Her shorts were skintight and ended a millimeter below her butt cheeks and the crop top she wore displayed not only her gaudy belly button ring but also the underside of her braless breasts when she lifted her arms. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see a garish tattoo at the small of her back.

Phil wondered if he had wandered into some sort of joke. He bit his lip to keep from screaming at the top of his lungs. He opened up his briefcase and retrieved the contract he and Mr. Waterford had agreed to because he was certain that the man at the desk was clueless – perhaps in more ways than one.

“What have you gotten me into, Mother?” he hissed under his breath as the man walked over to him.

“You must be our new storage specialist,” the man said, looking at Phil’s sharp suit, crisp white shirt and neatly knotted tie. “We’re a little casual around here these days. I’m Carl Bradshaw, by the way. I run this company.”

“I thought Sam Waterford ran the company,” Phil said. He could smell alcohol on the guy and wondered again what in the hell was going on. “He’s the one who hired me after all. My contract said we would set the particulars of my job this morning.”

“The particulars are that you’re a storage clerk,” the man said. “You’ll make $8.50 an hour or you can trot on home. And if you keep working here keep your eyes off my daughter. You’re not in her league.”

Phil purposefully leaned around the man to glance in the direction of the scantily clad woman. The guy was right: he wasn’t in her league – he was about three steps above it.

“I have a copy of my contract here,” Phil said. “I get paid $15 an hour. If I trot myself back home, you will still pay me $15 an hour to not work for you this summer. Why don’t you have your daughter make a copy of this and you can peruse it at your leisure. When is Mr. Waterford returning?”

“Next week, maybe,” the man answered. He took a brief glance at the paper in his hand and back toward his daughter.

“You know what? Keep it,” Phil said, almost certain operating a copier was outside of the realm of possibility for the bubble-gum popping girl. “I have another at home. If you’ll have someone show me to a work station, I’ll get started immediately.”

The man’s gaze returned to the document and then to Phil. He glanced down at the paper again.

“It doesn’t say what the old man hired you to do,” he pointed out.

“As I told your receptionist and you earlier, that was to be determined at an 8 a.m. meeting,” Phil said. “Incidentally, I arrived for that meeting at 7:45 a.m. and I will expect to be paid for it. If Mr. Waterford couldn’t attend, someone should have contacted me. Now, I am here and I am willing to do any job assigned to me if someone will point me in the right direction.”

“Nikki, take this guy to the storage room and introduce him to Rob,” the man said. “Then come back up. We have that presentation to finish and deliver.”