Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(15)
With a flip of her hair and a straightening of her shoulders, she regained her composure. “With comments like that, I don’t think your therapy is very effective.”
“Leave!” I pointed toward the door. “Get…out…of…my…house!”
I picked up Shawn and headed toward the stairs, leaving her standing in the family room. I heard the front door slam behind her when I was halfway up the steps.
Chapter 7
Malcolm
I listened to Pete drone on and on during the teleconference. A last-minute emergency conference call on a Saturday. It was times like this I hated newbies. So many questions about things already discussed. I was just waiting on Jay to tell me I was going to have to accompany Pete on his trip to China next month, since I was his direct supervisor. I was pulling double duty making sure he didn’t fuck up the relations I spent years building with our overseas partners.
I was Gillad Pharmaceuticals best account executive. My record for maintaining those business relations, plus getting new ones had been unmatched. Now as the department manager, I was responsible for ten reps, most of whom I’d worked with, and they knew their jobs well. Pete was a different story and a major headache. Although being a supervisor was great since it meant less travel, it also had its downside; this call being one of them.
Picking up my cell, I stared again at the blinking voicemail indicator. Brenda had called me an hour ago, and I was anxious to hear what she had to say, hopeful that my offer had been accepted. I’d low-balled a bit, offering only 1.8 million with the listing price being at 2.2 million. The house was nice, but it wasn’t two million nice. Finally, I heard Jay asking for final comments; the end was near.
The moment I disconnected, I dialed into my voicemail.
“Good morning, Malcolm. Give me a call when you get this message. I heard back from the sellers today.” Brenda’s voicemail gave no hint to what their decision was. I would think if they’d accepted, she would have left a congrats message instead. I dialed her number, and she picked up on the third ring.
“This is Brenda, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Brenda, Mal here.”
“Malcolm, dear, how are you today?” she asked, sounding cheerful.
“Well, that depends on what you have to tell me,” I replied, leaning back in my chair.
A pop-up thunderstorm had hit. The blue skies that welcomed me this morning were now dark and ominous. The heavy rain pelted my windows as I waited for her to respond with what I hoped was good news.
“I think your day is going to be brighter than this weather. They accepted your offer. Congratulations! You’re a homeowner.”
That news did brighten my day. We talked a bit about arranging for the home inspection and other next steps. When I hung up, I got ready to call Ginger, but my phone rang. My buddy Gerald’s number flashed across the screen. It had been a few months since we talked last. He told me he’d been clean for about six months and had just gotten picked up by the Tampa Bay Storm. His inability to get clean and stay that way for long had led him to blowing his shot in the NFL.
“G, man, what up?” I asked when I answered.
“Not much, dude. What’s your address? I’m in the city, and I’m crashing with you.”
“What the hell? How do you know I don’t have plans this weekend?”
“Because yo black ass don’t make plans any more than I do. Besides, you said when I was in the city to stop by. I’m here and stopping by.”
I laughed. We’d been friends since high school, and he hadn’t changed much in all that time. He was a good guy at heart, but he liked to party. What started out as recreational dabbling in drugs at college parties took over to become a bigger demon for him to battle, which was ironic since he was the one to call my parents after my accidental codeine overdose. I’ll never forget the look of sadness and disappointment that was on Mom’s face when I woke up in the hospital.
I rattled off my address before hanging up. If G was in town, that meant he was looking for some wild nights out clubbing and trying to pick up women. Something I didn’t mind as long as he kept his partying clean. Last time we went out, he ended up scoring some ecstasy and tried to dry hump me as I attempted to get him home. I thought I was gonna have to slug his ass and knock him out. I didn’t wish for a repeat of that night. Hopefully he was joking about crashing with me, because there was no way I was going to listen to him and some hoodrat defile my couch all night.
After picking up my coffee cup, I went to take a drink only to find it empty. I popped another K-cup into the machine before heading to throw on some sweats and a shirt. I’m sure G didn’t want me answering the door in my underwear. By the time I was dressed, my coffee was brewed. Man, I loved that machine. I laughed to myself, remembering how I thought Macy was crazy when she bought it for me, but now I couldn’t live without it.
My phone buzzed, with an email from Pete asking for the same information I’d already given him three fucking times. I swear I had no clue how he managed to get hired. I was convinced he was friends with someone in HR that gave him the hook up. After I finished forwarding him the previous response I’d already sent, I again started to call Ginger only to have a knock at my door interrupt. I opened it to see G’s smiling face.
“What up, man?” he said, giving me a hearty slap on my back as he walked in. “Like the place, dude.”