Chapter Twenty-Seven
SHANNON
Will: Thank you for breakfast
Shannon: Gross
Will: What?
Shannon: You can’t call clit-licking your “breakfast”
Will: I can. I did.
Will: I’ll do it again.
Shannon: Such a meathead.
Will: And remember which meathead left a handprint on your ass this morning
Shannon: Oh that? Barely noticed.
Will: Do not tempt me, little girl.
Shannon: Yep, blah blah blah you’re going to spank me and tie me up. What else is new?
Will: You’re real sassy until your wrists are tied behind your back and you have a cock in your mouth
Will: And let’s put those vibrators to good use while you’re at it.
“Give me that,” Tom said, coming up behind me. He tugged my outerwear off and tossed it to the chair beside my desk. “You’ve been standing there, muttering to yourself and texting for five minutes. Whoever you’re talking to can wait but Patrick doesn’t have that muscle, and you are going to be late. We don’t need to start this week with an irritable Patrick.”
Tom pushed a Starbucks cup into my hand, and pointed toward the attic conference room. A hearty discussion of last night’s football game was underway when I arrived, and that distraction allowed my tardiness to go unnoticed.
Sam handed me a folder of documents I’d requested on one of his properties, and he pointed to my face. “Brought a little California sun home with you?”
A new swath of freckles covered my nose and cheeks, but thankfully, no sunburn. “Just a bit,” I said. “How was New Jersey?”
Sam tugged at his collar and straightened his tie, grimacing before he spoke. “Not great. Tiel had warned me that it wouldn’t be great, but…I figured I could handle a difficult family. Those people, though, they were not nice to her. I said something about it, and you’d think I was sticking up for Hitler and Mussolini.” He blew out a breath and reached for his coffee. “We drove back Friday morning.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Is Tiel okay?”
Sam released a low, rumbling laugh and leaned forward. “Tiel’s great, and it will be fine,” he said with a nod. “It’s unfortunate when you have a family but you can’t go home because they’re assholes. She has a real, living family—aunts and uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents—but they’re complete shit. But we’ll be fine without them.”
He joined the unending football conversation, and I opened my computer to a blessedly thin stack of unread emails. My calendar wasn’t enjoying the same levity.
Shannon: Would it be possible to start this meeting?
Patrick: It must be really annoying when people have no regard for your schedule
Shannon: Yeah can we save the “Shannon’s always late” comedy for another day?
Shannon: I’m prepping for the audit and closing on two investments today. You can speed this along, or I will.
“We should start with the beachfront,” Patrick said, gesturing to me. “Swampscott. Riley and I walked through it last Wednesday to get a sense of the fundamentals. What’s your angle on that?”
“It was a steal,” I said. “I haven’t thought through the restoration or marketing position yet, but they practically gave it away. And it tests new muscles for us. We’ll run out of farmhouses and brownstones eventually.”
“Probably not,” Matt said. “Statistically speaking, we wouldn’t. Not for hundreds of years.”
“And there’s your daily dose of Matt Knows Math,” Riley said.
Patrick leveled an impatient glare in Riley’s direction before turning back to me. “Get out there this week, or next, and decide which direction we’re taking this.” I made a note on my overstuffed calendar as Patrick shifted his attention. “Let’s get into status reports,” he said. “Matt, start us off.”
While Matt detailed his plans for the Mount Vernon project and his excitement about us visiting the site on Friday, I pulled my laptop close and read everything I could find about shrapnel wounds and nerve damage. I had no intention of project managing Will’s injury—as if he’d let me—but I wanted to get my facts straight.
The information was terrifying, and not because of what happened to Will, but what could have happened. The thought of him hurt, thousands of miles away, would always be too difficult for me to swallow, and reading about devastating injuries, lost limbs, widespread paralysis…it sucked the air from the room and had a knot of tension high in my throat.
I should have been engaged in the meeting, but pulled out my phone and sent a text under the table instead.
Shannon: I love you.
Will: Because of the vibrator, right?
Will: I knew you’d like that.
Will: We should figure out how to use them more often if that’s how you’re going to react.
Will: Let’s get some other toys
Shannon: Shut up
Will: Ok, good talk. Love you too.
“Does that work for you, Shannon?”
My head jerked up, and I found Patrick, Andy, Sam, Matt, and Riley staring at me.
“Um…” I glanced down at my screen, which was currently displaying an article about nerve transfer surgery, and noticed several messages from Patrick.
Patrick: You want to weigh in on this?
Patrick: I fucking hate the PR people attached to Turlan. It’s a decent property but I’m going to be thrilled when we don’t have to deal anymore
Patrick: Still with us?
Patrick: Did you catch that?
“The media showcase,” Sam said. “For the Turlan project?”
I nodded, and motioned for him to keep talking. “Yeah, can you run that by me one more time?”
Patrick: Are you ok?
Patrick: You seem a little out of it
Shannon: Tired. Jet lag.
Patrick: How was California?
Shannon: Really, really good
Sam’s lips twitched as he fought back a smirk. “The Turlans’ publicist called me last week, and wanted to finalize details for the open house event they’re doing in January. I’m just checking that you’re still good with the date, and them handling all the arrangements.”
“Yeah, there’s no reason for us to take on any of that,” I said. “We’re down to the punch list on that property, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “We were just talking about that. Riley went through all the remaining items.”
Shannon: How was Korean bbq and pub crawling?
Patrick: What you’re asking me is: How’s Erin? Did Erin mention if she’s ever coming home for more than a weekend? Did Erin discuss whether she’s ready to end the war of silence?
Patrick: And the answer to all that is no because she didn’t get here. There was a blizzard and her flight was cancelled.
“And I didn’t pay attention the first time, so you’re going to need to run it again,” I said, pointing my pen at Riley.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I need some sustenance,” he said. He reached into his backpack, retrieving a spoon, a bag of hard-boiled eggs, and a jar of spicy pickle-and-onion relish.
“Riley,” I said, my hand pressed to my neck. “Don’t.”
Then he unzipped the bag, and that thick, sulfuric scent swept across the table. The relish was next. “What?” he asked, his eyes glittering with the joy of behaving badly.
“Riley,” I repeated.
“Dude,” Matt groaned. “Don’t be such a douche nozzle.”
Riley selected an egg, scooped relish over it while smirking like the fucking sociopath he was, and popped the entire thing in his mouth. We sat there, staring, as he demolished six eggs and half the jar of relish.
“Motherfuck,” Sam murmured. “Okay, Shan, I’m sending you the punch list report, and now we need to open some windows or maybe burn the building down.”
“You win, RISD,” I said, my hand pressed to my mouth. “You win. I’m never bringing yogurt up here again, and I don’t think I’ll be challenging you to a war of wills either. Now put this shit away, zip your goddamn pants, and get to work.”
He pumped his fists in the air, a triumphant smile on his face. “It’s because I’m the hero Gotham deserves.”
*
Will: I had an idea
Shannon: First time for everything
Will: You’re getting spanked tonight
Shannon: Was that your idea?
Will: No
Shannon: We’re long past the stage where it’s acceptable to be coy. Spit it out or shut up.
Will: You want to see a movie tonight? Maybe get dinner?
Shannon: Are you asking me on a date?
Will: Yeah, I think so
Shannon: Does that mean you’re tired of Netflix and my sweatpants?
Will: No. I’m a big supporter of those things. I’d also like to take you out tonight.
Shannon: Ok. I’d like that too.
*
Shannon: How’d it go with Nick
Will: Meh.
Shannon: Words, please. No grunts.
Will: He slapped some electrodes on my arm and fired up the shock therapy.
Will: It was like SERE school.
Shannon: Lovely. Any outcome?
Will: He wants me to see someone else. I have another appointment tomorrow
Shannon: I’m fine with that. Nick treats children. You, commando, were probably born half-man.
Shannon: Have you apologized to Judy for that? It mustn’t have been easy, birthing a dude.
Will: Are you amusing yourself right now?
Shannon: Actually, yes.
*
Shannon: Lauren just texted me about the holidays. She and Matt aren’t going to Mexico?
Shannon: And – she says hi. She’d like you to call her.
Will: Judy and the Commodore are on safari. Kenya, Botswana, Rwanda, Zambia.
Shannon: Oh right.
Shannon: How’s that going? Have you heard from them?
Will: They’re loving the shit out of it.
Will: She made some suggestive Jane and Tarzan comments. I got the fuck out of that conversation real fast.
Shannon: So then…the holidays
Will: Yeah, you’re stuck with me
*
Will: You have a list of your brothers’ suit measurements. I found it when I was looking for paper clips in the kitchen
Shannon: Correct and paper clips are in the cabinet in the den
Will: Already found them but WHY do you have their suit measurements?
Shannon: It goes back to the great dispute over dry-cleaned trousers
Will: omfg. These guys
Will: There’s even a note about which side they dress, for fuck’s sake
Will: That’s the line. Right there. That’s threshold between being involved and being fucking insane
Shannon: You might feel differently if I ordered you some suits.
Will: No
Shannon: Actually, I can call my gal at Neiman Marcus and have her pull some for you to try.
Will: No
Shannon: Why not? I like you all fancy pants. I love you all always but I’m very fond of you in a suit.
Shannon: You were hot as fuck at Gus and Aviva’s wedding, and Lauren’s too. You might recall getting laid after both of those suit-wearing events
Will: There are a lot of things I’ll roll with. I’ll let you pick which movie we’re seeing. I’ll make you come first. I’ll let you leave the house in those Come Fuck Me heels and sexy skirts because I know everyone else can look but only I touch. I’ll rub your belly when you have cramps.
Will: I’ll be your protection detail when you go out drinking with the girls and get rowdy. I’ll lick any part of you anytime you want. I’ll keep my mouth shut when you work insane hours and come home half-asleep and growling. I’ll let you dress me in a motherfucking tutu and take me to ballet class.
Will: But you know what I’m not doing?
Will: I’m not letting you give me the Black Widow treatment. You don’t have to project manage me, peanut.
Shannon: What if I want to? Have you considered that?
Shannon: Taking care of people is how I show my love.
Will: I don’t think you understand how much of that you do before you even start on the dry-cleaning.
Will: And I’m going to buy my own fucking pants because I’m the one who takes care of you
Will: And before you tell me you don’t need anyone taking care of you – I love you. Deal with it.
Shannon: Shut up.
Shannon: I love you too.
Shannon: Can I come with you when you’re buying your own fucking pants?
Will: Maybe
Shannon: I’d like to get you alone in a dressing room
Will: I’m listening.
*
Shannon: Something weird is going on
Will: Not your horoscope again
Shannon: Do not mock me.
Will: Not mocking. Just baffled that a woman with a law degree relies on mystical prophecies for daily guidance.
Will: What’s the weirdness?
Shannon: I don’t know exactly. There’s something going on and I can’t quite figure it out.
Shannon: Erin is flying in tomorrow.
Will: That’s unusual?
Shannon: It’s always last minute with her, too, like she’s the queen of fucking England
Shannon: She hasn’t spent Christmas with us since she was in high school. She was supposed to visit for Thanksgiving but something happened with her flight.
Will: Progress?
Will: Don’t forget – even the Berlin Wall came down eventually
Shannon: You don’t know my sister. She’s stalwart
Will: Yeah. Wonder where she gets that.
Shannon: If you asked me to go to Mexico, I might say yes this time
Will: Too soon.
Shannon: …?
Will: It’s too soon to joke about that.
Shannon: Ohhhh. Ok then.