Egomaniac - Vi Keeland Page 0,32
is the last thing I need. Spent two hours on the phone last night. I’m done talking.”
“Alright. Well…what else can I do? What do you need?”
Even though he looked like he’d been through hell, a glimpse of Drew shone through. He arched a brow in response.
“Somehow I doubt you need me for that.”
He grinned. “Definitely would have helped me fall asleep last night.”
We talked for a few minutes, and then I pointed to my office. “I have a video conference in a few minutes, so I won’t be able to answer the phones for an hour. After that, I’m good until a late-afternoon conference here in the office.”
“No problem. I got the phones.”
“Thanks.” I went to turn away, then remembered what I’d wanted to ask him this morning before he arrived. “Would you mind if I hang a small whiteboard on my office door? I have those glue sticky things to put it up with, so it won’t ruin the door.”
“Help yourself.”
After putting yet another call through to Drew, I managed to hang the whiteboard level on my door before my video call. My plan was to write a thought-provoking statement on it each day, as I’d always done on my website when my counseling was strictly video conferences and telephone calls. Now that people visited, I wanted to continue the practice.
Since my appointment hadn’t rung on my computer yet, I grabbed my reading glasses, went to the journal where I kept relationship thoughts and quotes, and thumbed through until I found one I liked. I printed it neatly on the whiteboard.
Blowing out someone else’s candle doesn’t make yours shine brighter.
Today I will make my spouse shine by ___________________.
I stepped back and smiled, rereading my quote. God, I love helping people.
***
“Rifle though her mail. I don’t give a shit how you find out. I need to know if she’s shacking up with the guy before tomorrow at two.”
I hadn’t seen Drew since this morning, although I heard him loud and clear as I rinsed out my coffee mug in the small kitchen next to his office.
“Roman, I’ll give you five grand if you get an intimate photo of them together. Drop off a picnic basket at the front door if you have to—just get them out in public looking cozy.” Drew’s voice boomed through the hall, followed by a hearty laugh. And then, “Yeah, right. Blow me, big guy…Later.”
While I was drying my coffee mug, Drew came into the kitchen.
“I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.”
“Oh yeah? Which part?”
I smiled. “Most of it. I take it you and your private investigator are close?”
Drew grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and twisted the cap off. “Roman’s been my best friend since I stole his girlfriend in sixth grade.”
“You stole his girlfriend and that made you friends?”
“Yep. He’d given her the chicken pox, which she then passed to me. Roman and I both got bad cases and were out of school for two weeks. We wound up playing video games at his place for ten days straight.”
“What happened to your girlfriend? She didn’t come between you?”
“Roman and I made a pact. We’d never go for the same girl again. I dumped her the day we got back, and Roman and I have been buddies ever since.”
“Oddly, that’s kind of sweet.”
Drew laughed. “That’s us. Roman’s the guy who goes through a woman’s garbage at the curb in the middle of the night to find used condoms, and I’m the guy who slips what he’s found to opposing counsel in the middle of a divorce trial. We’re both sweet.”
I scrunched my nose. “Is that a true story? It’s disgusting. Physically and morally.”
“How can you say that without knowing what my client was put through? Revenge can be very sweet.”
“What part of revenge is sweet? Where you both feel horrible after the revenge is complete instead of just one of you?”
Drew took a long draw on his water and leaned one hip against the counter. “I forgot you’re the eternal relationship optimist. Speaking of which, how was your date last night?”
“Date?”
“With Mr. Bowtie.”
“Oh. Dinner was nice. But I wouldn’t exactly call it a date.”
“No action at the end of the night, huh?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Nothing happened between us physically. We had a nice dinner and talked a lot about work. Baldwin’s been trying to get me an adjunct position at NYU where he teaches. I don’t think I would ever want to be full academia, but