“Then why?”
He’s quiet for a moment and then he gives me a half-smile. “Funny thing. You’ve got a big family. But me, I’ve only got my dad. He’s the one person alive that really knows me. That remembers me when I was two, and drawing on the walls, or when I was four, learning to ride a bike. He remembers when I first tied my shoes, and he read my first comics. You, you’ve got lots of people to remember that. But me, when my dad’s gone, all of those memories are gone with him. It’s just me. There’s no one else. Just like that, I’m the only one to remember him. I’m the only one left alive that loved him. There’s no one left to share that with. Just me. Alone.”
I stare at Josh and try to take in the profound loneliness of the future he’s describing. And I realize that even though there’s been a hollow space in my heart, waiting for a child to love, I’ll always have my family. Josh is right. When his dad’s gone, he’ll be alone.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“Don’t worry about it. Every ending is a new beginning.” He gives me a flippant smile.
I shake my head. He’s quoting Ian at me. “Josh…”
“Seriously. Don’t worry. I can see my future and it’s bright. I’ll adopt a three-legged dog from a shelter and name him Tripod, then I’ll donate loads of sperm to sperm banks around the country so I can have hundreds of children and essentially be immortal. In a few years, I’ll go a little crazy, possibly cut off an ear like Van Gogh, and then I’ll draw bad comics in my warehouse for the next fifty years. Eventually I’ll die from eating too many of those delicious chocolate cherry liquor candies you can only get at Christmas-time. Trust me. Life’ll be grand.”
I try to hold back a smile but can’t. “Your picture of the future is so appealing. Just wondering, by any chance, do I or our possible child have any role in this hallucination?”
“Sure. You brought me the cherry candies.”
“I’m the agent of your imaginary death?” I ask in mock outrage.
“Then you become a multi-millionaire from my estate, which is worth soooo much money. Because everyone wants a piece of my original work.”
She’ll bring him cherry chocolate candies.
I shake my head and smile, but I can tell, this joking is for Josh, because right now, I think he can either laugh or cry, and to Josh, laughing is always the better option.
“Speaking of estates,” he says, “I contacted a lawyer in Brooklyn. They helped draw up a standard contract for us, we can go over it, you can send it to your own lawyer. Whatever you need.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised at the change of topic. Except, the contract is why I’m here, isn’t it? “Right.”
Josh grabs a document from his computer desk and leads me to the couch. We spend the next hour and a half going through it. This time, we sit on opposite ends of the couch, no touching at all.
Which is good.
Excellent.
Because we’re friends.
15
I’m at my desk, working on confirming all the sponsors for the Live Your Best Life online conference, when I hear the elevator door open. It’s just past lunch. Usually at this time the mail guy comes and delivers letters and packages. But, by the sudden silence, frantic clicking of keys on keyboards, and people shuffling papers and trying to look busy and important, I can guarantee that Ian is back.
I force myself to keep clicking my mouse and then type some random words into my open document. I won’t turn around and look. Especially because Lavinia has her eagle-eye stare going on and she’s looking between the elevator and me with great interest.
That’s when I know for a fact that Ian is back.
Finally Ian is there in my peripheral vision. Wow, Los Angeles was good for him. He’s a little tanner, his glossy black hair is tousled, and his tie is loose in a casual, I’m-too-sexy-for-my-suit kind of way. Everyone is pretending to be extremely busy and productive as he strides toward his office. I’m watching him from the corner of my eye while I type nonsense into my document. Right when he’s about to pass my desk, he stops mid-step and tilts his head like he’s just remembered something.
Lavinia narrows her eyes on me.
Then Ian swivels on his foot, turns toward me, and strolls to my desk. I can feel every single person in the office watching while pretending not to watch.
“Ah Gemma, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ian says.
I close my document, look up and give Ian a business-like smile. “Yes?”
He smirks at me. “Have you lined up the sponsors for the conference?”
I don’t know if anyone else can see it, but the level of heat he’s sending my way is off the charts. Or maybe that’s just my imagination. But I swear he’s peeling off my top with his eyes.
I nod and squirm in my seat. “Mhmm. Just finished,” I say, and then I clear my throat because my voice came out high and squeaky.
“Bring the document to my office, will you?”
“Will do.”
Then Ian seems to notice the rest of the people in the office. He gives the room a bright smile and says, “Hello, everyone. Every day is an opportunity to make it your best. Shall we?”
“Hi Ian,” a number of staff call and then, “Yes.” It’s no secret, basically everyone that works here worships the ground Ian walks on.
I stand at the office printer waiting for the document of all the confirmed sponsors to print. Behind me I hear the sharp click of Lavinia’s heels on the wood floor. She stops at the paper shredder next to the printer and jams a fistful of documents in it. The whir of the shredder fills the air.
She looks over at me, then says, “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
“What?” I ask, “I emptied the shredder yesterday. It’s fine.”
She purses her lips, “I mean Mr. Fortune. I wouldn’t get involved if I were you.”
I stare at her, a bit shocked to be honest. She’s never said anything remotely personal to me before.
“I’m not.”
She snorts. “I’ve lived in New York long enough to smell when a salami sandwich is being made.”