Page 36 of The Recovery Coach
The relief didn’t last long.His phone dinged, and Connor said, “He says it’s correct, and he emailed you a pay stub.”
Olivia checked her email, and sure enough, right there on top sat her pay stub.She opened it and almost choked.They’d already accounted for taxes.The gross pay outpaced her highest-ever yearly salary.“This says you’re paying me twenty-four hours a day.And you paid a signing bonus.I never asked for a signing bonus.”
“Was it in your contract?”
She stared at him, deciphering whether he was serious.“I don’t think so.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped a pair of athletic shorts over his boxers.He made a buzzer noise like she’d gotten a question wrong on a game show.“Trick question.It’s in your contract.You didn’t read your contract.”
“I didn’t expect to be quizzed on it later!”
“I love you, but I’m tired, and I gotta piss.You should read your contract.”He hobbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, leaving her staring after him from his mountain of pillows.
She spent the next day and a half poring over the contract in her free time.All hundred-plus pages of it.She read through it line by line, researching terms she didn’t understand.As she read, she grew angrier and angrier.
The stupid agreement was the most lopsided thing she’d ever read.In her favor, but it pissed her off that Connor would be so reckless with his legal obligations.She hated to think what other idiotic contracts he had out there.
Near the end of the document she found a list of contacts she could call for questions, including the manager who drafted the agreement and the accountant responsible for ensuring she got paid.After two hour-long phone calls with each of them asking them to be reasonable and renegotiate a fairer contract, she’d gotten nowhere.And Connor was no help.Every time she brought it up, he said, “You’d have to ask my team.”
Finally, after multiple days of stressing about havingtoo muchmoney—the opposite of her normal worries—Olivia went to someone Connor wouldn’t be able to ignore.
Christina didn’t let the phone go unanswered.“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom!”she infused her voice with enthusiasm.
“Honey, how are you?”
She closed the door to avoid being overheard.Connor would be annoyed if he found out she tattled.“I’m doing a lot better than last time we talked.”
“Oh, thank heavens.How’s Connor doing?He doesn’t tell me anything.”
“He’s about as good as you could expect.He hates being cooped up.”Olivia sat on the edge of her bed and pulled one knee up, letting her other foot dangle.
“He always has.Can’t sit still for more than two minutes.”
“Nope, he can’t.Anyway, I’m calling because your son is an idiot.”
Christina snorted.“I won’t argue with you, but what did he do now?”
Olivia explained the whole contract situation.The overpaying.How he insisted on paying twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.The various bonuses outlined, and the impossible circles she’d gone in trying to sort it out.
All the while, Christina listened, humming along in the appropriate places.When she finished talking, Christina stayed quiet for several long beats.A screeching sound came over the line, and Olivia pulled the phone away from her ear.She could imagine the scrape of the oak dining room chair across the tile kitchen floor and the way Christina would rub the bridge of her nose.
“Honey, I know you think this isn’t fair on Connor’s end, but you should take the money and keep your mouth shut.”
Olivia blinked, confused.Christina was a fair woman.A reasonable woman.“What?”she asked, certain she’d misheard.
“You should keep the money.”
“It’s over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars by the end of the agreement.”
Christina sighed.“That sounds like a lot, but to Connor it’s a drop in the bucket.For you it’s life-changing money.”
Her face got hot, her nose stuffy.“I’m not a charity case.I should work for what I have.”
“Nobody is questioning your work ethic.But think about the financial snafu your ex put you in.Every woman should have a fuck-you fund.That’s what jewelry used to be for, but the tradition has gone out of fashion.”
“A fuck-you fund?”She’d never heard the term.
