Free Wish You Were Here by Lani Diane Rich

long pause, and then he said, “You’ve lost your edge, Freya. Surely you’ve noticed that.”
    “ Everyone struggles sometimes, Dad,” she said, but he went on as if he hadn’t heard her.
    “ Charlie’s record, on the other hand, is above reproach, and he’s got seniority—”
    “ Seniority ? It’s Daly Developers. I’m a Daly. You’re gonna have me work under Charlie Taggert ? The man thinks it’s acceptable to goose his assistant. No one’s ever going to respect me again if my own father picks him over me.”
    “ Charlie has a strong record. The board feels comfortable with him. In a few years, when he’s ready to retire, if you work hard—”
    “ If I work hard ? What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?” Freya cleared her throat. “All right. Forget it. You know what? I’m gonna close this deal. If I don’t, you can send Charlie. Or, you know, maybe come and close it your damn self, since you seem to think it’s so easy.”
    There was a stony silence, then he said, “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Freya. I’m not just your father. I’m also your boss.”
    Not for long, she thought. “I’ll be home in a few days. We’ll talk more then.”
    She flipped the phone shut, her hand shaking. That was it. She had to make this deal now. She needed to come home victorious and drop the damn paperwork on her father ’s desk, right under her resignation.
    She reached for her glass and downed the last bit, reeling with determination as it scorched its way through her. She ’d find what Nate was looking for, if she had to tear up every inch of the place to do it. Then she’d sign that deal. She might lose her father, her job, her apartment, but goddamnit, she was going to keep her dignity if it killed her.
    As the vodka snaked through her, the energy she ’d worked up drained away. She kicked her shopping bags off the couch, lay down, and pulled the afghan over her, snuggling into its softness. Once this deal was done, her life as she knew it would be over. She could travel. Visit her sister. Decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what her life might be like, but all she could see was Nate shaking his head, turning her down.
    Again.
    She reached for her Tic-Tacs, emptied the last of the box into her mouth, and started crunching desperately to stop the tears.
    It didn ’t work.
     
    ***
     
    Malcolm Brody downed the last of the watered-down sludge people in these parts called coffee, keeping his eyes on the front door of the diner. He checked his watch.
    She was late. He should have expected as much. “Would you like a refill on your coffee?”
    He glanced up at the waitress. She was young and blonde, but tragically overweight and with an unfortunate mole on her chin that didn ’t help matters much. He let loose with a wide smile; the nice thing about homely girls was they were easy as hell to charm.
    “ I sure would, lass. You’re a pretty young thing, now, aren’t you?” The Irish brogue was fake, sure, but at his age, Malcolm Brody had learned the inestimable value of tiny deceptions.
    The waitress giggled self-consciously and filled his cup. “You know,” she said, “we’ve got a fabulous peach pie here. You really should give it a try.”
    And you should maybe try it a little less, Malcolm thought, glancing at her sizable rump, but instead he said, “I will certainly take that under advisement.”
    “ Okay.” She smiled and walked away. Malcolm watched her go, sad to see that the view of her wasn’t much improved from the back. Poor girl.
    The bell on the door jingled and a woman with short dark hair dragged a heavy, wheeled suitcase in behind her. She wore a well-tailored tweed business suit and a pair of sunglasses, which Malcolm found amusing. Although Nikkie hadn’t grown up in L.A., that was where he’d tracked her down, and she appeared to have picked up the Los Angeleno quirk of expecting the sun to follow