“You know my number. Send me an email when you want to travel, and I’ll book a ticket for you. It isn’t going to be on your own jet, but hopefully you can slum it some.”
“I’ll be in touch shortly.”
He printed out the offer and signed it, initialing each page, then scanned it and emailed it back to Roger, sighing as he pressed the send button. The rest of the day flew by as he hunkered down and worked his way through the ever-present pile of agreements he needed to proof — complex licensing agreements and opinions on IRS code pertaining to their usefulness as tax avoidance vehicles. It seemed like he was just getting started when his two subordinates said goodnight at his door. He hadn’t told them he was leaving, and figured he would wait until mid-week to break the news so as to avoid any ill will that might be generated by what might be construed as jumping ship.
Jeffrey had put off any serious consideration about tackling Keith’s estate until he got to Washington. Being on the ground there would make things far easier, from securing a death certificate to dealing with a real estate agent. He’d considered keeping Keith’s condo, but felt conflicted. It seemed most reasonable to get there and then decide — in another couple of weeks he might feel differently, but for right now all he could remember was the sense of Keith’s ghost watching him as he’d cleaned out the refrigerator, and he wasn’t anxious for a repeat performance any time soon. The idea of living there, sleeping in Keith’s bed and using his space, seemed morbid to him and just, well, wrong. He knew it was silly, but still, he couldn’t shake it.
Once home, he thought about Monica, and impulsively dialed her number on his cell, almost hanging up with the first ring. She answered ten seconds later, and after an initial bit of awkwardness, they talked for an hour, the emotions he’d been grappling with clearly mutual.
He told her that he would be flying there on Sunday, and she sounded delighted. He could practically see her smile and flashing dark eyes as she laughed easily with him, and she insisted on picking him up at the airport no matter when his flight arrived.
As he prepared for bed, he caught himself grinning more than once, and realized that he was looking forward to seeing Monica again more than any other aspect of his move east — more than the money, the career boost, the thought of a new city and a new beginning. Whatever they had experienced in their short time together had been exceptional, and he couldn’t wait to be with her again in less than a week.
Jeffrey, old boy, he thought, you’re already falling, and you don’t really know anything about her.
Which was true, but even with the realization, the reality of his emotional response didn’t change, and he thanked Providence again that his career and romantic life had taken such an abrupt and fortuitous turn. He just wished that his brother had lived to see it. Having someone to share your triumphs with made all the difference, and now he was alone in the world.
Except for Monica.
A door closed, another opened.
For now, that was the best he could do.
SIXTEEN
Getting Settled
Jeffrey hustled from the lobby of the Washington, D.C. Renaissance Hotel to where the valet waited by his new polar white BMW 550i sedan, courtesy of the firm. He’d been in Washington for seven days, and he’d been so busy with his new job he’d barely had time to think about his living situation. The hotel was covered for another week, but he had a sense of time running out, and he knew he needed to face finding a permanent place now that his meager furnishings were sitting at the moving company depot, awaiting delivery instructions.
He handed the waiting valet a five-dollar bill and slipped behind the wheel, already dialing the office, his phone synched for hands-free operation so he could focus on driving. When his secretary answered he told her he was on his way and to have his group waiting in the conference room when he arrived in ten minutes. He’d alerted her that he would be running late already, having gotten tied up on an early conference call with a client, and he didn’t want to waste a breath once he was in the office.
He’d jumped right in on Monday, and after a brief orientation had been assigned a plum corporate client looking to minimize its taxes from several of its U.S. subsidiaries — exactly the sort of thing Jeffrey specialized in. He’d met with its in-house counsel and listened patiently as the three attorneys representing its interests took him through their thinking, and then gently proposed that there might be some better strategies than the outmoded ones they were considering. That had launched a flurry of activity on both their ends, which was only now coming to a head, and there was another meeting with his new firm’s lawyers that afternoon to look at the alternatives he intended to propose.
Jeffrey twisted the wheel at the next light and made a left, gunning the powerful engine with satisfaction as he wound down his call. His right hand moved unconsciously to his neck and rubbed it where Monica had nipped him a little aggressively the prior night. She’d spent five of the seven nights he’d been in Washington with him, and they were growing inseparable. He’d won the romance lottery, and his horizons were now limitless — his only regret that he didn’t have more time to share. Still, he would take what he could get, which was more than ample, even given his appetite for her, which was ravenous.
A uniformed attendant met him at the underground parking area of the firm’s building and Jeffrey hopped out of the car, leaving it for him to park, as was the custom in the crowded area. He moved purposefully to the bank of elevators and straightened his tie as he waited for the door to open. Appearances were important to his new employer, especially when clients were expected, and he’d selected a conservative gray pinstripe suit, pastel blue shirt, and yellow paisley tie for the day, a look he hoped inspired trust and denoted aggressive thinking.
“Good morning, Sarah. Is everyone in there?” he asked once at the firm’s floor, breezing by his secretary’s desk.
“Yes. They’re waiting for you. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Absolutely. Thank you,” he called from his office, where he hung up his jacket and quickly checked his computer before heading down the hall to the conference room.
Four men and a woman, all about Jeffrey’s age, sat at an oval meeting table, thick piles of contracts in front of each, and Jeffrey cut right to the chase as he took a seat.
“Good morning. Sorry, I got hung up. As you know, the client will be here at two. Where are we with the licensing deal?”
The morning ground on, the minutiae of international tax treaties the topic, and when his stomach growled, signaling lunch time, he was satisfied that they were ready for the presentation. He was in his element: five extremely smart attorneys at his beck and call, hundreds of millions of dollars on the line, with his job to create a defendable strategy so convoluted the revenue agents would never know what they were looking at — not that the conglomerate for whom he was structuring the proposal would be audited anytime soon. When you had a phalanx of lawyers and a top accounting firm working for you, the Service tended to believe that you’d done everything right.
The meeting broke up and he retreated to his office — easily three times the size of his old one. He slid open his desk drawer and extracted a breakfast bar and then grabbed his jacket on the way back out. He had an appointment with a real estate agent to look at his brother’s condo, and he’d timed it for the lunch hour, trying to fit it in between his staff meeting and his client’s arrival.
It took him fifteen minutes to navigate to the building, where the agent, a middle-aged woman named Jodie, stood by the front entrance, talking at a rapid-fire clip on her cell phone. She held up a finger, tendered a wan smile, and turned away from Jeffrey, walking a few paces down the block, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. Jeffrey played along, studying his messages on his phone while he waited, and then she finished the call and returned, a no-nonsense expression on her paunchy face.