Two By Two

Deciding to take my chances, I hugged her anyway, before heading home.

Vivian left around six thirty, after bringing London back from dinner. Her departure was as cordial as the rest of the weekend had been. She asked no questions about my day and I asked no questions about hers; instead we simply wished each other well as she headed out the door. After I put London to bed, I called Emily to ask if she would mind picking up London from school on Tuesday, since I’d be filming all day. Emily assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem.

On Monday, Taglieri’s new website went live, and the first two commercials began to air. I posted the commercials on his website as well as on YouTube. I worked from home so I could watch the spots as they aired, feeling an almost physical thrill as I watched them. Meanwhile, I worked on templates for direct mail and billboards for the plastic surgeon, getting the messaging right. On Tuesday, I filmed his patients – a very long day, as I’d predicted – and then went to pick up London at Emily’s, where we ended up staying for dinner, much to London’s delight.

On Wednesday, as I was driving to the office, I received a text from Taglieri asking me to call him and I felt my heart sink. Maybe because the previous weekend had been devoid of drama with Vivian, I felt certain that he was calling with what could only be bad news on the divorce front.

I returned the call right after I parked, standing outside my office. I felt like I needed to be standing when I spoke to him.

“Hi, Joey,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I got your text. What’s up?”

“My business,” he said. “My future bank account.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know that new toll-free number? The one you splattered all over those two commercials? The phone’s been ringing off the hook. It’s crazy. People love that commercial with the kid. They think it’s hilarious. And now, we can direct them to the website for basic information. It’s incredible. I never would have believed it. My staff is going crazy just trying to keep up.”

“You’re happy,” I said, stunned.

“Damn right, I’m happy. When’s that dog commercial going to run? And you need to come up with some more ideas. So put your thinking cap on.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“And Russ?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

I hung up the phone and strode into the office, feeling like I was six inches taller. When I waved to the receptionist, I watched as she raised her hand.

“Mr. Green? Don’t you want your messages?”

“I have messages?”

“Two, actually. They’re both from law firms.”

Again, I thought of Vivian and wondered if she’d told her attorney to reach out to me directly. If so, I wasn’t sure why Vivian hadn’t given the lady my cell phone number; as far as I knew, Vivian didn’t even know my work number.

But it wasn’t Vivian’s attorney who’d called. One call was from a firm in Greenville, South Carolina, that specialized in class actions, the other from a personal injury firm in Hickory. In both cases, I was connected immediately to senior partners, each of whom seemed eager to speak with me.

“I like those commercials you’re doing for Joey Taglieri, and we were wondering if you would consider coming in to make a presentation about your services.”

After hanging up, I let out a whoop of excitement. I just had to tell someone.

I reached for my phone, about to call Marge, but then decided at the last second to call Emily instead.

Floating.

That’s how I felt the rest of the week. Like I was floating free of the worries that had been weighing me down for months.

Though it might be only be temporary – what goes up always comes down and all that – I decided I was going to enjoy every single minute, even if I didn’t land the two new firms as clients. While it would be great to sign those firms, I received three more calls from lawyers by Friday, making five new potential clients, all of whom had reached out to me. I’d set up presentations with all of them and depending on how many I signed, I thought I might be looking at potentially needing to hire another person, just to keep up.

The Phoenix Agency was officially on its way.

“What are you going to do with all that extra money you’ll be making?” Marge said to me over lunch. It was Friday afternoon, and I’d decided to work only a half day as a reward. “Because you happen to have a sister who’s in the mood for a new car.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I always knew you’d make it.”

“I haven’t made it yet,” I cautioned. “I still have to make the presentations.”

“You’re good at that part. You just weren’t so good at getting the phone to ring.”

I smiled, still on a high. “I’m so excited. And relieved.”

“I can only imagine.”

“How are you feeling?”

She made a face. “A little better. I’m not coughing too much during the day now, but the nights are still pretty rough. I finally convinced my idiot doctor to prescribe some antibiotics, but I just started taking them yesterday. He said I might not feel any better until Monday.”

“That’s a bummer.”

“It’s bad for Liz, too. I kept waking her up, so I’ve started sleeping in the guest room.”

“So Mom’s chicken soup didn’t work?”