2. Patrick
1708 Words
2
Patrick
“I still can’t believe you forgot. Don’t you have a secretary?” I teased.
“I have an assistant. Not a secretary,” Morgan snapped.
“My bad.”
“You know who would be the perfect assistant though?”
I arched an eyebrow. “By your tone of voice, I’m not going to like it.”
“A straight white male.”
“You’d do it, too.”
“I mean, what could be better than to have a man at my beck and call? Bet no one would call him a f*****g secretary.”
“They would if you told them to,” I suggested.
She laughed. Her eyes crinkling and her teeth showing. That was her best laugh. It meant she really meant it. “Thanks for feeding into my wild plans.”
“Anytime.”
“So, this new job. Are you sure Tech really needs you?”
“Well, I’ve already accepted.”
Morgan looped a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. I still think I could make you a better offer.”
My eyes darted from the steering wheel to her face. The way she’d said better offer was super suggestive, but, damn, by the look on her face, she had no clue. Morgan did that all the time. She had no idea that half of the things that came out of her mouth had double meanings.
“And what’s that?”
“I need a new secretary.”
She held on to a straight face for a full three seconds before bursting out laughing. I followed along with her and shook my head.
“Good try.”
“I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
“Just for that, I’m going to tell Steph.”
Morgan rolled her eyes and turned up the radio as we drove the rest of the way to my parents’ house.
I pulled onto the street for my parents’ house. They’d been living in the same house for as long as I could remember. Even longer than that. It was home even though it wasn’t anything as extravagant as the Wrights’. I’d grown up securely in the upper-middle class, but my parents prioritized vacations and activities over fancy houses or cars. Family was always more important than things. It was probably why I owned a home that was almost paid off and an SUV I’d had since I graduated college.
“Tell me about the new job. What are you doing?” Morgan asked.
“A lot of the same that I’ve been doing at Wright—managing big contacts.” I grinned wolfishly at her. “Speaking of…have you made your donation to Texas Tech this fiscal year? I can just see it now—Morgan Wright Library, the Wright wing of the Rawls College of Business, Wright something wing of another building. That would look very impressive.”
“Oh, boy,” she grumbled. “This is going to cost me a pretty penny, isn’t it?”
“Probably.”
I parked in the driveway and was glad that we had gotten here early. The street was going to be jam-packed here soon. We hopped out of my truck, and Morgan came around to my side.
“So, that’s what you want to do? Schmooze people for donations?”
“I’m pretty good at schmoozing.”
“You’ve never schmoozed me,” she accused. She batted her pretty little eyelashes up at me.
“Is anyone able to schmooze Morgan Wright?”
She giggled. “Depends on who it is.”
I liked her giggle, too. It was even rarer than her real laugh. I’d gotten both in one night. I guessed she really needed to get out of that office. I wondered when the last time she had gone out was or if she socialized outside of work at all. She’d even stayed in on Halloween to work. I knew because I’d invited her to the party my friend was throwing. Admittedly, none of us had really been in the partying mood around Halloween after Austin returned from rehab. I’d only gone because I’d promised the girl I was seeing that I’d make an appearance. I’d broken up with her that night. Another one bit the dust.
“And, anyway, it’s more than that. Donations isn’t the only thing we do. It’s how we stay in contact with businesses and alumni. We also negotiate contracts and make sure the university continues running.”
“Sounds like a big job.”
“A little bigger than being your secretary.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”
I knocked twice before walking into the house with Morgan on my heels. “Knock, knock,” I called out. “I’m home!”
“Well, look who decided to show his face,” Stephanie said.
“Hey, sis,” I said, dragging her in for a hug.
She squeezed me extra tight and then punched me in my kidney as she screamed, “Ha! Gotcha!”
I coughed at the sudden jab and then darted for her. I grabbed her around the middle and picked her up off her feet before dropping her onto the carpet. She gasped as she hit the ground and tried to kick me.
“Wow, things really haven’t changed,” Morgan said behind me.
“Mor!” Steph cried from the floor. “Let me handle my dipshit brother, and then I’ll come snuggle you.”
A tall man with ginger-red hair walked into the living room at that moment and stared down at the display with wide eyes. Morgan stepped over me and Stephanie.
“Hi, I’m Morgan Wright,” she said, extending her hand.
“Thomas Cooper. I’m Steph’s boyfriend.”
“He’s in real estate,” Steph volunteered from the floor.
“Nice to meet you.”
“How do you know Steph?” he asked.
“We grew up together. Toddlers to high school.”
“She’s the b***h who took the valedictorian spot from me!” Steph told him.
I guffawed and pushed Steph back down to the floor.
“Guilty,” Morgan said without a trace of guilt.
I got up off the floor and brushed off my suit pants. I shook Thomas’s hand. “Good to see you again, man.”
“You, too, Patrick.”
Steph jumped up and adjusted the long front-angled blonde bob she was sporting. “Pleasantries over. Let’s drink.”
“Party hasn’t even started,” I said. I’d been much more conscious of how much I drank and for what reasons ever since my best friend had gone to rehab.
“I’m the party,” Steph said, as if it were obvious.
Morgan and I shared a look. I could see the same thoughts flitting through her mind. We were eerily in sync today.
Thomas followed Steph into the kitchen, and Morgan nodded her head, as if to ask if we should follow.
“Feels kind of weird, doesn’t it?” I asked.
She nodded. “Casually drinking feels like it has consequences now. Even more than it did after my dad died.”
Her dad, the infamous Ethan Wright, had died of an alcohol overdose. I’d been in college at the time with Austin, who had dealt with the death by drinking heavily. Morgan had only been sixteen, and I couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for her.
“I know what you mean.” I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the kitchen.
“It’ll probably be okay.”
I nodded. “I think so.”
She took a deep breath and then let it out. A smile returned to her face, and my eyes darted to her lips again.
Why the hell am I noticing her lips today?
Normally, she wore lipstick. That had to be it. Today, she didn’t have any lipstick on, and I could see that they were chapped from her worrying away at them with her teeth.
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” I asked as Thomas passed me a beer.
Morgan took one, too. I loved when girls drank beer. Or hard whiskey.
“Out back, being ridiculously cute,” Steph said with a sigh.
“So, Dad’s grilling, and Mom is trying to tell him how to do it better even though we both know he’s the only one who has ever touched that grill?”
“Pretty much.”
Morgan took a long swig of her beer. All fears of alcoholism running in her family forgotten. I had two healthy, well-balanced, and adjusted parents…and Morgan had zero. She had four amazing siblings, but it wasn’t the same thing.
Steph slung her arm around Morgan and urged her out to the backyard. Thomas watched them with curious eyes.
“Your girlfriend seems really nice,” Thomas said.
I sputtered, spewing beer all over the kitchen. “She’s…she’s not my girlfriend.”
Thomas backed away with a laugh as I grabbed a towel to mop up my mess. “Sorry. I just thought…you know, you showed up together and all.”
I saw the entire encounter through Thomas’s eyes in that moment. Morgan and I showing up together, joking and having a good time. My baby sister’s friend from high school. Our knowing eye contact. My hand on her back. f**k, we must actually look like a couple.
“She’s, uh, she’s my best friend’s little sister. She’s way too young for me.”
Thomas laughed. “You and I are the same age, man, and I’m dating your sister.”
That realization slapped me in the face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t dated someone younger than Morgan before. We were only four years apart. But, with Mor, it felt like such a bigger age gap.
“Her brothers would kill me for even having that thought.”
Thomas held up his hands. “Well, don’t kill me for having that thought about your sister.”
“Treat her right, and I won’t have to.”
“Done.”
We shook hands like gentlemen and followed the ladies out the back door. My mind was still on the observation Thomas had made about me and Morgan. My eyes found her as soon as we walked into the backyard. She was standing with Steph, laughing uproariously at whatever outrageous story my sister had been regaling her with. Color had come back into her cheeks, and her long brown hair swayed around her face. The slacks and blue silk blouse that had seemed so ordinary when I stumbled into the conference room earlier hugged every feature. Every. Single. Curve.
Her eyes locked on mine for a second, and I realized, in the waning light, they weren’t solely dark brown. They had flecks of gold around the irises. And they were emotive. So was her mouth. And quite literally everything about her.
She tilted her head when I didn’t turn away. What the hell did she think was running through my head? She couldn’t know. She’d think I was a total creep. There was no way that she would be interested in me. f**k, I cannot believe I’m having these thoughts.
She was so hot. Like stunningly hot. Why had I never noticed before? Had I just tried not to look? Just seen her as young as Steph? I didn’t even know. Because, now that I was seeing her…I couldn’t stop looking.
And I was pretty sure her three older brothers were going to murder me for thinking about their little sister like this.
- Writer
