Chapter One

James

 

I was sitting in my office on the second floor above the art gallery. I loved having my office up there. It gave me the ability to think so much more clearly than if it had been right next door to the showroom.

“Hey, man,” Derek, my best friend, said as he walked in.

It drove me crazy that he would just walk into my office whenever he wanted, without even knocking. Every time he did it, I thought again that it was a good thing I didn’t have a girlfriend or a wife. That way he couldn’t just barge in on me while we were doing shit he shouldn’t see.

“Hey,” I said, trying to hide my annoyance.

Derek walked over to the chair on the other side of my desk, pulled it out and sat down. The sound of the chair dragging across the thin carpet made me clench my jaw. He clasped his hands together and leaned into my desk.

“So,” he said, nodding his head. “I had a crazy fucking weekend.”

I shook my head and laughed, “When do you not?”

“This is why you need to come out with me. You’d see how much fun I really can be,” he said.

“I know you can be fun. Too damn much fun. If I spent time with you on the weekends, I’d never get anything done at work,” I laughed.

“You don’t get it, man. I took two chicks home with me. Two!” He held up two fingers when he repeated the word, like I wouldn’t be able to grasp it without the visual assistance.

“That’s awesome.” I guess. I wasn’t really sure what else to say to him. I really wasn’t that interested in his stories anymore. Not since Whitney died two years ago. Nothing had really been the same ever since. It wasn’t Derek’s fault, and I tried hard to still be a good friend to him, but it just wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the same—and I never would be again.

“Dude, you seriously need to come out with me next time,” he said.

My phone beeped on the table, indicating I had an email. I glanced at it and saw it was an email from one of the artists that wanted to book a show. They had said they’d call me this week, but I hadn’t heard from them, so I was surprised when I saw the email. They were asking if I was okay, because they hadn’t heard from me. I was going to have to look into what Janice was up to after Derek left.

“Yeah right. So, Derek, do you remember, Nell. She’s a little girl—about yay high.” I held my hand up, demonstrating her height.

“Yeah, so?”

“She’s my daughter. I can’t just leave and go do whatever I want on the weekends anymore. You know this,” I said.

Derek blew out a deep breath.

“What?” I wanted to know why he was so irritated.

“Nothing.” He was just trying to brush this off. He was clearly upset about something and I wanted to know what it was.

“What? Seriously, just tell me,” I pressed him.

“It’s just that things used to not be like this.”

I gave him a confused look. “Like what?”

“You. You never come out with me anymore. You used to. You and Whitney used to come out with me on the weekends all the time.”

I stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. He didn’t know what it was like to find the love of your life and then have her ripped from you way too soon. He didn’t know what it was like: not even close. Yet here he was trying to say that I was no longer any fun. I ignored the anger that bubbled deep within me. I knew anger would never get me anywhere, so I always tried to avoid it.

I looked down at my hands and picked at the skin on the side of my nail. “You mean before she died?”

My intent was only to remind him of why I’d been acting the way I had for the last two years. I knew I had changed, but an event like this changes people: it’s just a fact.

“Yeah, but dude, you remember you are still allowed to have a life, right?” For the first time in two years, Derek was looking at me differently. He wasn’t looking at me with pity. He was looking at me like he meant business. It was a little refreshing in a way, but it still stung. No matter how much truth was in his words.

“I know, but it’s hard.” It was all I could say, anything else and I might have fallen apart. I was still working through my emotions, still grieving. Though it wasn’t as bad as the first year. Each day it hurt a little less, and I thought about her and the way it ended a little less. But it was still there. It still seemed like it had just happened sometimes. Everyone else moved on so easily. Even Nell wasn’t upset about her mom’s passing. But she also didn’t remember her much. She was barely just three when it happened.

Derek stood up and started walking to the door of my office. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned back to look at me.

“It’s been two years, James. It’s time to get out and get on with your life,” he said and stared at me.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I figured a change of subject was in order.

“I’ll be having another showing for you soon, buddy.” It was all I could think of, and all I wanted to say.

Derek nodded at me; he knew what I was doing. He left just as abruptly as he entered, and once again I was alone in my office. I turned my attention back to the email I’d received from the artist, asking if I was okay. I wrote back and told them all was good here and asked if they had tried to call. After that, I turned my attention back to my schedule planning.

I had four shows coming up that I needed to plan and fit into the month of September. I’d been getting busier and busier lately, and it was refreshing to have a lot of work to focus on. Nell had just started kindergarten, and that was a pretty big ‘first’ that her mom was missing. She was fine, but I found it difficult to cope with. I had been trying to proactively protect myself from certain events, but Nell’s first day of kindergarten was unavoidable, and one of the hardest. It had definitely gotten to me.

I heard the ping of my email and saw it was a reply from the same artist, saying three messages had been left for me. I was shocked. This meant Janice wasn’t doing her job at all. How the hell was my business going to thrive when my assistant was so awful? This wasn’t the first thing she had done that could cost me artists, reputation, and money.

I sent them back a quick email letting them know that I was very sorry for the delayed response and that my assistant was in charge of calls, but that it was partially my fault for not checking up on things more. I let them know she would be fired by the end of the day. Then I gave them my personal cell phone number.

I got up from my desk and walked downstairs. I couldn’t believe that she had done this. I couldn’t believe I had let things get so fucking bad.

“Janice,” I said, as I walked over to her desk. I noticed her hair was starting to grey some and the wrinkles on her face were starting to show more. Maybe she was just forgetting more easily. But probably not. She’d worked for me for a year, and I’d had nothing but problems with her.

“Yeah?” She was chewing a piece of gum and popping it. Something I hated more than anything. It was my biggest pet peeve, and I knew she was aware of it.

“Have I had any calls?” I asked, in my normal, everything-is-just-peachy voice.

She smiled at me, “Yeah, you’ve had a few.”

“Why didn’t you come tell me about them?” I asked her.

She shrugged, which I didn’t really understand. Seems like trying to explain why she wasn’t actually doing her job would require more than a shrug. I was trying hard not to get too upset with her as I didn’t need some crazy ass lawsuit to come out of nowhere. But it was fucking hard.

I cocked my head to the side and crossed my arms. I wanted to give her a chance to redeem herself and possibly save her job.

“I don’t know. You were busy, and then I just forgot. People forget.”

“All week? Janice, come on, all week? Three messages from one artist and God only knows what else. And you just forgot?” I was starting to lose my temper.

“It wasn’t anything that important; calm down.”

The fact that she was telling me to calm down pissed me off even more, but the cherry on top was how nonchalant she was about the whole thing. Like it was okay to just forget things when it came to your job. Like nothing was important here.

I was seriously tired of untrustworthy people. I had been through a pretty tragic event and had found that I had zero patience for bullshit. I didn’t want anything to do with this sort of bullshit.

“You know why I hired you, right?” I asked her.

“Because you needed an assistant?” she asked. Her voice sounded bored, disinterested even.

“Yep. And that means you come upstairs and let me know when I receive messages from clients. I have an artist that just emailed me asking if I was okay because they hadn’t heard from me and after making several calls this week. Do you know how embarrassing that is? How do you think that reflects on me and on the reputation of my business?”

She shrugged.

“Janice, I was trying to be nice and hopefully give you the benefit of the doubt. But I can’t do this anymore. This is not okay. You’re done,” I said, and watched her mouth fall open.

“You can’t fire me,” she said.

“Why is that?” I shot back.

“Because you need me.”

“No, I need someone who can be my assistant. Someone who will actually do the job and do it effectively. That’s not you.”

“Whatever, I was about to quit anyway,” she said and stood up, knocking over her chair. She didn’t bother to pick it up. Instead, she grabbed her purse from the desk drawer, swung it over her shoulder, and flipped me off.

I nodded my head at her. “Yep, pretty sure I made a good decision,” I said.

She flipped me off again, called me an asshole and walked out of the building. I shook my head and sat down at her desk. Right there on a little sticky note were several names. No messages, no phone numbers. Just names and the number of times they called.

What I couldn’t figure out was how I had waited so long to fire her. I had kept her around and let her keep on working when she couldn’t even deliver a simple message to me. She could have just called me and let me know. She didn’t even have to walk up the stairs to my office if she didn’t want to.

Taking a deep breath, I started thinking about my options. I really needed to get a new assistant in here, and I needed to do it quickly, so I could get help fixing what Janice had fucked up.

I hoped that I hadn’t lost any artists from her inept handling of my business.

Walking back upstairs, I went into my office. When I got to my computer, I posted an ad online for a new assistant. Then I sat just back and waited.