Chapter Sixteen: Sweet Smell of Success

I went to work early on Monday morning. I skipped grabbing my usual coffee, and headed straight to the office. I locked myself in and buried myself in the Colorado file, getting up to date on everything, exploring every nuance of the briefs, memos and contracts. I was going to dominate this file, and stick it to my father in the process.

I spent a good chunk of time on the phone that morning, and had Lorraine bring me a lunch, rather than leave my desk. I ate corned beef on rye while on a conference call, with a touch of spicy mustard. Onion rings on the side.

By mid-afternoon I had worked out some snarls in the zoning of our new building, through a contact at the municipal office. That meant the deal for purchasing the land we wanted could go through. I sent off a memo to Chris Geertz and my father, informing them of the relevant details. It was something the law team had expected to take weeks.

I leaned back in my chair, hands behind my head, feet on the desk. I could feel a little bit of a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

Chris himself showed up about an hour later.

“Nice work, Diggory! Way to be on the ball.” He leaned against the doorframe, casually chic in a blue pinstripe.

“Thanks, Chris, just wanted to help out the team,” I said, exchanging clichés.

“You really hit one out of the park, there, man. You must have spent all weekend on the file!”

I shrugged humbly.

“Well, just so you know, I’ve put in a recommendation upstairs. I think you should be made a team-leader on this one. We’ll assign you a few associates, some secretaries, and really put this baby to bed.”

“I really appreciate that, Chris. I’m not looking for any special treatment. I just wanted to put my best foot forward.”

“Diggory, don’t be modest. I need somebody around here I can rely on, and there’s no one else with that kind of initiative. If I don’t have you at the head of this project, it’s something I’d probably end up doing myself. And frankly, we have a lot of other stuff to deal with. I’d like to know there’s someone I can trust and send to Denver, while I take care of things here.”

“Denver?”

“Well, sure. From time to time, someone’s going to have to fly out there for meetings, contract signings, new hires. This is a major undertaking. You’ll be getting a raise, an expense account, a company car… Unless, you don’t think you can handle it?”

I sat up straight. “I’m honoured. And grateful for the opportunity.”

Chris smiled. “Excellent. I’m already whispering in some ears upstairs. We’ll see what happens.”

“Excellent,” I agreed.

“Once it gets finalized, I’ll let the department know. We’ll all go out for dinner and drinks after work. Nothing’s set in stone yet, but, congratulations!”

Chris went on his merry way, and I leaned back in my chair again, grinning at the ceiling. Eat that, old man.


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I arrived home long after sunset, with a bag of groceries. I put it down on the counter and went to my cupboards. I grabbed a frying pan, tinfoil, garlic, a bowl, and some butter. I mixed garlic and butter in a bowl, and then went to the grocery bag.

I took out a loaf of fresh bread and sliced it, lathering on the garlic butter before wrapping the loaf in tinfoil. I stuck it in the oven, and then went back to the bag. I grabbed some fresh chicken, and commenced cutting it up. It went into the frying pan along with the rest of the butter, simmering on the stovetop. I added a few random spices.

I learned to cook in college. If Matt was around, we usually ate takeout. But on nights where he was home, or out with some girl, I took pleasure in preparing my own food. I would often make a big dinner on a Sunday, and then get creative with the leftovers the rest of the week. A roast would become a stew, a chicken breast would go into pasta, pork chops got cut up and put into sandwiches…

I sat down at the counter and poured a glass of wine, toasting myself and my future success. I enjoyed my homemade garlic bread and my chicken dinner, accompanied by a light salad with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. I loved food.

I relaxed after dinner, lounging on my couch, sipping wine. I walked over to the big windows and looked out to the city, sparkling in the darkness. I wondered what the view was like in Denver.

It wasn’t until I was getting ready for bed that I realized I had gone all day without worrying about Calla Wiley or my love life. Perhaps I was finally getting her out of my system? And, why not? She was nobody. Just a crazy girl.

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