IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(74)

The shelves themselves were also crowded with books tucked behind framed photographs, souvenirs, and tchotchkes of every variety. One of the pictures in particular caught my eye, and I plucked it off the shelf. It was Conor and James, posed in some sort of convention hall, with their arms around each other and big grins on their faces. Both of them wore badges around their necks with Comic-Con written across them in bright yellow letters.

It was the first time I’d seen Conor’s face since he’d left, and my heart ached looking at it. I missed that smile. Missed the familiar warmth of the laugh that I knew accompanied it. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to refocus on what I was there to do.

The sound of James clearing his throat broke me from my thoughts. I snapped my eyes open to find him standing in the doorway, now dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, his brown wingtips shining with polish. He noticed the photograph in my hand and looked at me curiously. I said nothing, just slipped the picture back onto the shelf and took a seat in one of the leather chairs.

James settled into the one across from me. There was still hostility in his expression, but now it was tempered with the barest hint of sympathy.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t resist. “How is he?”

“It wouldn’t be proper for me to discuss my other clients with you, Mr. Grange.”

I hadn’t expected him to tell me anything, but I was still disappointed. “Fair enough.”

His eyebrow twitched, probably surprised that I wasn’t pressing him on the issue. “What’s this legal matter you’d like to discuss?”

“I would like to create a nonprofit foundation and transfer ownership of the printer and biological material patents to it. And I’d like Conor and his mother to be as involved in running it as they care to be.”

Once again I seemed to have shocked James into silence. After a beat, he asked, “Why?”

“Because Conor was right, this technology is revolutionary and can save lives,” I explained. “It isn’t fair for it to only be available to those who are wealthy enough to afford it. Money shouldn’t dictate who lives and who dies.”

His jaw dropped. Before he could cover his surprise, his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and frowned at the screen. After a moment’s hesitation, he sent it to voicemail. “And what will Grange BioMed get out of this?”

“Nothing. Well, it would technically count as a charitable donation but otherwise—” James’s phone began buzzing again. The same man’s face filled the screen. He ignored it.

“You can take that if you need to,” I told him.

“It can wait,” he said distractedly. “But what are you hoping to get out of this transaction, personally? You think you’re going to be able to buy Conor back somehow?”

I let out a laugh. “It would be stupid of me to try to win him back that way. Conor doesn’t care about my money.”

James’s phone buzzed again. With an exasperated sigh, he swiped his thumb across the screen to answer it. “Richard, honey, I’m with a client. Let me call you back?”

He listened for a moment, his expression morphing from annoyance to agitation. “You already booked the tickets to Hawaii? I thought we were going to discuss this first.”

He ran his fingers across his forehead as Richard talked. “When?” he asked. At the answer, James’s eyes flicked to me and then away again. He suddenly stood, pacing across the room and stepping into the hallway. The door didn’t close completely behind him, and I could still hear his side of the conversation.

“You know that’s the weekend I agreed to help Conor with ICECon,” he hissed.

I stiffened at the mention of Conor and leaned forward to listen in.

“Trust me,” James said, his tone growing more agitated. “I know how important this trip is to closing the deal, but Conor needs my help. I told you about this last night and—”

Another pause. “I know, Richard, but he’s my friend; I can’t just ditch him like that for work. I told you—”

Pause. “Richard. Richard, wait. Come on, that’s not fair. Listen, can we discuss this tonight on the way to the benefit?”

Silence for a moment. “What do you mean you made other plans? We RSVP’d months ago. They’re expecting us to be there,” he said tightly.

I caught a glimpse of him through the crack in the door as he paced the hallway. He was running his fingertips over his forehead, a pained expression on his face. “Okay. Yeah. Fine. Bye.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He raised his hand to push back into the office but then hesitated.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, his head dropping. He stood for a moment, eyes closed as he took several deep breaths. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

Finally he arranged his features and strode back into the office to retake his seat. He tried to appear unruffled, but I could still see the strain around his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped.

I wasn’t going to let it go. “I heard you mention Conor—”

“It’s none of your concern.”

I sighed and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “Look, James. I know you don’t like me. I know I was an asshole to Oscar, but I called things off because he was developing feelings for me that I could never return. It would have been cruel of me to continue seeing him.”