Chapter 179
“Got a meeting at nine, Curtis. The team from Bullion Boulevard is discussing the acquisition of Titan Group. Here’s the investment summary that M&A dropped on us yesterday. Thought you’d wanna take a look before the meeting.”
Curtis hung his coat on the rack, took the document, and stood at his desk, flipping through the pages. His eyes inadvertently swept over the calendar, and he paused, a wrinkle forming between his brows.
“What’s today’s date?”
Caleb replied, “It’s the 17th.”
That minimalist calendar, which had been perched on the solid, imposing black desk for three months, suddenly seemed to offend Mr. Curtis’ refined senses.
He sniffed disdainfully, “Who put this here? Do they think I’m dumb? Can’t remember the date without this thing staring at me?”
Caleb was silent. Wasn’t it Mr. Curtis who had just asked for the date?
Caleb, ever the professional, didn’t show his bemusement. He’d seen his boss in stranger moods after a day off, which somehow seemed to leave Curtis more on edge than if he’d never left the office.
“I’ll get rid of it right away.”
As he sank into his executive chair, Curtis scanned the executive summary and valuation analysis in the report. “What’s lined up for me over the next few weeks?”
Caleb breezed through the itinerary, organized by time and priority, “You’ve got social obligations today and tomorrow-booked since last week. After the 20th, your calendar’s clear.”
Curtis’ finger, which had been tracing lines of text, stopped. A half-smile played on his lips as he asked with mock concern, “Tired of being my right hand, Caleb? Maybe you’d like to switch places with the new intern?”
Caleb responded with practiced ease, “I’m quite all right, thanks.”
The smile vanished, and Curtis leaned back indifferently, “Dismissed.”
The grueling pace and mental strain of investment banking were notorious, and Curtis had
grown accustomed to the relentless grind during his two years at Emberland.
Being busy kept his mind off things-off the messy, the unresolved. It was a temporary block against the tide of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him the moment he stopped.
By the time the afternoon rush was over, it was nearly eight o’clock. Leanne called Curtis
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and he picked up quickly, the background noise hinting he was at some sort of dinner.
“Need me?”
Leanne almost thought she detected a hint of pleasure in his voice.
“Are you busy?” she asked.
“Not at all. Just a second.”
Curtis excused himself from the table, pushing away a proffered glass of wine with a polite, “Pardon me,” and left the dining area.
“Who’s calling?” someone teased.
Curtis, hand over the receiver, replied, “My wife
“Ah, then you’d better take it. She must be missing you something fierce to call this early.”
Though it was clearly flattery, Curtis couldn’t help but be charmed. A small, satisfied smile crossed his lips as he walked out of the noisy room.
The corridor was hushed, carpeted thickly enough to mute the sound of his footsteps. Hel walked to the end where he could talk without interruption, loosening his tie.
“Are you off work?” he asked.
The background noise from Leanne’s end disappeared, and his voice came through clearer. She hummed an affirmative, then asked, “Are you free tomorrow? We should head to the registry office to pick up the divorce papers.”
The smile faded from Curtis’ eyes as softly as mist dissolving into air.
The early winter darkness settled in, and the night sky turned a deep shade of navy here, he could see the glittering high-rises of the business district across the way, the opulence of Stonebridge radiant in the myriad lights of the office towers.
But outside Curtis’ window stood a solitary, bare tree.
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