Page 9 of Shades of Grey & Gold

She shuffles out of the room and closes her door lightly, leaving me alone with someone I used to consider family. My breath hitches as I try to regain my composure.

“I’d like to hug you, but I know that may make this situation even more uncomfortable,” he says as he smiles sheepishly, and I take in his large frame.

His hair is greyer than it was three years ago, grown out longer than the short, buzzed cut he used to have. His face has more wrinkles, but at sixty years old, he still looks great for his age. He’s even lost a bit of the belly he used to carry. His slacks are black, but his shirt isblue, unbuttoned at the top. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a suit without a tie. Come to think of it, his hair is a bit disheveled, and he’s wearing brown loafers with no suit jacket. Confusion at his casual attire sets in as he closes the space between us quickly—doesn’t seem like a guy who is ‘slowing down’ to me.

His hand reaches out, and I automatically do the same as he takes one of mine between both of his.

“The last time we talked, you were, very reasonably, storming out of my office without so much as a day’s notice.” His hands are warm, and he pats mine, his eyes softening. “You didn’t deserve any of that, and I never got to apologize for my son’s… well, let’s call it despicable behavior, even though we both know that doesn’t begin to cover it.”

I’m not surprised by his comment in the least. Richard was always seemingly too nice to be a high-powered attorney, and he seemed to always be overly critical of Patrick. He wasn’t the one who cleaned up after Patrick, but he did try and fix him. And his mistakes. But he never tried to fix the one Patrick made with me after I left. Probably because he knew there was no fixing it.

I take a deep breath, forcing my mouth to offer a small smile back. “I appreciate that, Mr. Ellison. I’m sorry I had to leave, too.” I look down and he lets my hand go. “I didn’t want to leave, but…”

He puts a hand in his pocket and waves the other out in front of his face. “First, it’s Richard, you know that. Secondly, you never apologize to anyone for doing what you must do to get away from a toxic situation—or a person, job, or a relationship. You never apologize for being strong.” He points at me. “But I sure do regret losing you, we never could quite replace you.”

I smile again. “Thank you.” I realize I need to quickly escape, because as nice as Richard is, the history bubbling around us in this little space is closing in around me. “I was actually just heading out, but it was so nice to see you.”

I take a step back and he takes one forward.

He glances at Carla’s closed office door, then at me. “If there is anything you ever need, please let me know.” He hesitates and rubs the gray stubble across his jaw. “If you ever change your mind, I know it’s been quite a long time, but I’d take you back at the firm at the drop of a hat. Especially with us just being right down the road now. I mean that, Max. You were fantastic at your job, there’s always a place for you at E & P.”

I nod, shifting towards the stairs.

“I do wish you would’ve finished law school—you had so much lawyer potential. You would’ve made junior partner faster than anyone else I’ve met. So bright and on top of it all.” He continues. “A real shame, but I understand it was too much, and we were so lucky to have you at E & P.”

I swallow a sob that tries to crawl up my throat. If only he knew that his own son was the reason I didn’t finish law school to begin with. Of course he didn’t know. Men like Richard always knew the outcome, rarely the mechanics. I grab the railing of the staircase feeling unsteady at the mention of not finishing law school, memories drowning me for a moment.

~ Five Years Ago — Max ~

“God, Max, you need to relax,” Patrick throws himself on the white couch of our apartment, flipping the screen of my laptop closed.

Anger bubbles in my chest. “Patrick, I can’t relax, it’s my last semester of law school, it’s bar prep. You should remember how this felt, it wasn’t that long ago for you.”

He sighs, taking a swig of brown liquor from a glass, his eyes rolling. “You take it all so seriously, we never do anything or go anywhere. You have four more months of this shit, and you have made it your whole life.”

My whole life is law school—just like any other third-year law student. Prepping for the bar—the giant, miserable test that law students have to pass to become a licensed lawyer—is my full-time job until July when I sit for the exam. Along with the last courses of my law degree, which run for four more months. Patrick acts like he doesn’t remember how this felt. I’m exhausted, physically and mentally, but I’m so close.

He sits up straight and his hand comes up to cup my face. “Baby, you can’t see what this has done to you. I can. I can see how this last year has stressed you out. I am looking from the outside, a completely neutral third party, and I see how down and stressed and completely unraveled you are. What if you just put a pause on the last semester? Come work at E & P full-time with me, use your brilliance now instead of waiting seven months.”

Asinine. What an asinine comment.

I pull my head away from his hand and stand up, walking to the kitchen. My feet are cold, because Patrick says my fuzzy socks, which I would typically wear in the frigid winter of January, are childish. He’s probably not wrong, but the slippers he bought for me to wear around the house are basically shoes. If I wanted to wear shoes inside, I’d just wear shoes.

My cold toes are making me more annoyed at the situation. And at him.

~ Present —Max ~

The door to Carla’s office opens, and I see my opening.

“Thank you for the offer, it was so nice to see you again.”

Richard’s eyes soften even more, and he gives me a curt nod and smile. I stumble down the steps. My legs feel like jelly, but I grab my laptop, giving Debbie a small salute and run out the door before anyone else can stop me.

“Ready?” Becca is leaning against the building, petting Bart’s head, her floral skirt blowing in the cool breeze to reveal her tan boots.

“Yeah, I think I got everything; Patrick’s dad is upstairs talking to Carla.” I fumble with my laptop and reach back for my phone to text Jenni to make plans for tomorrow. I need to know what’s going on in their office or I’m going to lose my mind.

“He’s—what? Why? Did you talk to him?” Becca whispers, like someone might be listening.