He looks at me and says, “Honestly, some people just can't be bothered to do any work without a threat.”
“I didn't realize that you were such a hard boss,” I say, smiling at the corner of my mouth.
Franklin tilts his head and brushes his fingers through his hair.
“Well, you just happen to be very good at your job, otherwise you’d find out just how difficult I can be to deal with.”
The calmness in his voice sends shivers down my arms. If he suspects that something is going on and is acting like this, then he is a much better actor than I have ever suspected him to be.
“Don't just stand there,” he says, offering me a seat. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? It's probably too early for a martini, right?”
“Well, it is just after eleven.”
“The day that I've been having, I could use a stiff drink but I think I'll hold off until noon otherwise I might not make it through the rest of the day.”
“What's going on?” I ask.
“You don't wanna know. The merger is really taking a toll on me and I’m tempted to just say fuck it.”
“Why don't you? I’m sure that will make your wife happy,” I joke.
He looks up at me, narrowing his eyes and then he starts to laugh.
“I'm not so sure,” he says, tilting his head. “Well, I don't know what Aurora is thinking but her father won’t be happy.”
I nod, not exactly sure where to go from here.
“So, how's everything? How's your mom feeling?”
“She's doing well. Chemo and radiation are hard but she's keeping her spirits up. Thank you again for everything that you've done,” I say. “That money has been invaluable.”
“Oh, shit, don't even worry about it,” he says, waving his hand. “I was just asking about her health but I'm glad to hear that things are good.”
“Well, they're good under the circumstances. She has to go in for some more tests and that's always a scary time. There's a lot of waiting and seeing.”
“Ha! Isn't that the thing about life?” Franklin asks. “Seems like we're all just waiting around to die, aren't we?”
I'm taken aback by his statement and I straighten my shoulders, squaring off with him.
“No, I'm sorry,” he says quickly. “Crap, that was a really fucked up thing to say.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“See, that's exactly why I need a drink. Nothing I'm doing or saying today seems to be any good.”
“Don't worry about it,” I repeat myself after a long pause.
“So, Aurora tells me that you want us to set up another date with Chelsea,” Franklin says, changing the subject.
“Yeah, I'd like that. Is that okay?”
“Of course! More than okay. I'm glad to hear it. When I saw that you and Aurora had been talking so much, I sort of got something else in my head about you two.”
My breath gets stuck in the back of my throat but I don't make a move.
“What are you talking about?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible.
“Well, you know, I grabbed her phone instead of mine one day and I saw all the messages that you guys have been exchanging, so…I got a little worried.”
“Really?” I ask, totally surprised. “Why?”
He shrugs. “You are her ex…”
“Wait, you didn't actually think that we were spending time together… romantically?”
“Yeah, a little bit,” Franklin says, leaning slightly toward me. He's analyzing me, challenging me but I'm not going to reveal what I think.
“Hey, you were the one that wanted us to be friends, remember?” I point out. “I was perfectly fine not ever seeing her again but you insisted.”
“I know, I'm such an asshole. I was the one that invited you to our house and set you up on that date.”
“Speaking of which, that's actually the kind of girl that I'm interested in. Chelsea. Hot, rich, single. What more does a single guy in the city want?” I ask.
“Perhaps an ex-girlfriend who has recently married a billionaire?” Franklin asks.
I stare at him and he glares back. Neither of us blink.
“I'm just kidding,” he says after a moment, starting to laugh.
I join in and our roar fills the room.
“Well, I'm glad to hear it,” Franklin adds. “Otherwise, I would probably be a little bit more concerned and a lot less accommodating.”
I sit back in the chair, not sure how to interpret his sudden change of mood.
“So, you don't want me to talk to her anymore?” I ask.
“No, of course not. I’m not an asshole.”
I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. Instead he reaches over, picks up a pen off his desk, pressing the top in and out a few times while I wait.
“So, how's everything going with the podcast? Any problems?”
“No, not really. I'm just busy going through all of the articles and I’ve been watching everything that they ever put out on O.J. Simpson. It's kind of a big job.”
“Yeah. That was the biggest story in 1994 and he kept selling newspapers and driving ratings throughout the 90s.”
“Yeah, I remember seeing it on TV,” I say. “It was always the top story. That's why I think the listeners are so interested in it. There's a whole new generation of people that only vaguely came in contact with it when they were kids.”
We talk about it for a while and the various angles I should pursue to give the podcast a fresh feel. He has some good suggestions. I listen and take notes.
“The thing about O.J. Simpson is that I am a married guy who can understand where the hell he was coming from,” Franklin says as our conversation starts to wind down.
I scowl at him.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“He was a powerful guy with a really hot wife and she was fucking someone else.”
“Are you saying that it's okay that he did it?”
“No, not exactly.” He waves his hand. “Although I have to admit, I see where the man was coming from.”
“But he was doing the same thing. He was cheating on her with almost every other woman in town, possibly even her best friend.”
“So?” he asks. “Does that give her permission to cheat on him?”
“Yes, why not?” I ask.
“Nope,” Franklin says, shaking his head. “Don’t believe that shit that women are putting out there. Men and women are different and that’s a good thing.”
Flabbergasted by his misogyny, I don’t know how to respond.
“C’mon now, don’t look so shocked. Remember, we’re men. We take what we want and we want the impossible.”
16
Aurora
The following day, Franklin calls me from the office and tells me that he wants to have dinner with me. A formal dinner. He wants me to dress up and put on my makeup, do my hair, go all out, and he wants to have a date. I'm not entirely healed, not even close but I don't think he wants to see my bruises, so I do my best to camouflage them.