Chapter 42

My usual coffee with Spencer was cut short. We both had a busy day ahead of us. I waited for Isadora with her coffee in hand. When she strolled into the lobby, my heart skipped a beat. I loved that first glimpse of her after not seeing her for a day or two. She noticed me immediately and flashed a radiant smile that lit up the room.

"Good morning," I said, holding out her coffee.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"How is Sloane?"

"She's fine." Isadora laughed. "Nothing a little ice cream couldn't cure. Where's Spencer? Am I that late?"

"He's got a busy schedule," I told her. "And I have to change my schedule around as well. We've got a client meeting, and I don't think it's going to be good."

"What do you mean?"

We stepped into the elevator with several other people. I didn't want to blast our business to strangers. Once we stepped off the elevator, I gestured for her to follow me to my office.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"A client is unhappy with their campaign that didn't work the way they expected it to."

"Was it our fault?"

I shook my head. "No, but they never see it that way. I'd like you to prep with me. I want you to be prepared for what's going to happen. You weren't here, but it's good for you to see it. This isn't something we deal with often, but on occasion we get a disappointed client."

Isadora nodded in understanding. "Of course," she replied. "I'm here for whatever you need. Let me put my things away and I'll be back."

"Give me twenty minutes," I told her. "Get situated and I need to return a couple of calls."

"Okay."

She walked out of my office, leaving me to squeeze in as much work as I could before Isadora came back. I hated Mondays. They were always shitty. It just seemed like everyone held on to their grievances and let them fester over the weekend.

Isadora walked back in twenty minutes later, just as I was hanging up the phone with our disgruntled client. Her reassuring smile and presence instantly comforted me.

"Okay, fill me in," she said, closing the door behind her.

I ran her through everything, the client's disappointment, their threats to pull out of our contract, and even my desperate attempts to save face.

"I think you should be there when I meet them," I concluded, looking at her for reassurance. "Maybe they'll go softer on me if they see you."

"Of course, Graham," she replied immediately. "What time is the meeting?"

"In an hour."

"Okay." She nodded. "I've got it."

"How is Sloane?" I asked. "You sounded a little worried when you had to go pick her up."

She sighed. "Boy trouble."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Did he do something?"

"No. I don't know. Sloane saw a message on Todd's phone from his ex. She didn't see the actual message, but she was upset his ex was texting him at all."

"How in the world do fourteen-year-olds have exes?" I asked with disbelief. "I'm going to sound really old, but when I was fourteen, holding hands was the equivalent of going all the way."

"They grow up fast." She smiled. "Sloane can be a little sensitive. She jumped to the conclusion he was cheating on her, but I don't know if that's the case. She doesn't know what was in the message. It could have been nothing."

"I can't believe how strongly I feel in this moment," I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration. "I just want to protect her from everything. If this kid wants to fuck with my daughter, he's going to learn a hard lesson."

"We're not beating up any children," she said. "He might have just gotten scared of what she would think. Let's not jump to conclusions. They are teenagers hopped up on hormones. It is very easy for them to turn a molehill into a mountain."

"Fine, but if he hurts her?—"

"Graham, she's going to get her heart broken," Isadora said calmly. "It's part of life. I know you want to protect her from pain of any kind, but this is part of growing up. I don't want her to be twenty-five and getting her heart broken for the first time. It's a lot worse at that age."

"You have a point," I conceded begrudgingly. "But it's easier said than done. I'm still so new to this."

"I am aware," she replied with a warm smile. She leaned back in her chair. "You're just being a good dad, Graham. It's admirable, really."

"Thank you," I murmured, though I was still wrestling with my protective instincts for Sloane. "It doesn't dampen my urge to deck the kid, though."

Isadora's laughter filled the room. "I really don't want to have to bail you out of jail for assaulting a minor."

"He just better watch himself," I warned.

We talked a few more minutes before Isadora and I walked to the conference room. She filled pitchers of water and put them in the center of the table while I reviewed my notes. Before long, the client and two members of his team were escorted into the room.

Isadora and I sat down on one side of the table with the clients on the opposite side. The tension was high. I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught of blame and recrimination.

"I understand you had some concerns," I started.

"Concerns?" He scoffed. "I don't think failure is a concern."

"Do you have specific issues?" I asked calmly.

"It's your fault," the client accused, his voice dripping with contempt. "You promised us results, and you didn't deliver. You've cost us thousands of dollars, and now we're taking our business elsewhere."

"We explained in detail that if the product didn't match what we were marketing, it wouldn't work," I countered, my voice firm with conviction. "And unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. My notes indicate we sat down with you a week after the campaign was launched."

"You did not," he shot back.

"I have you guys meeting with Spencer and Graham on the twenty-seventh," Isadora said calmly. "The meeting lasted eighty-seven minutes and the notes indicate there was a discussion about changing the product pricing and availability. If you'd like I can email you a copy of the notes or print them out before you leave."

I had to keep myself from smiling, even though I wanted to give her a high-five. That would be inappropriate. Instead, I merely nodded at her with an appreciative glint in my eyes. "Yes, please do, Isadora," I chimed in, leaning back in my chair.

The client was visibly taken aback, his previous bravado faltering in the face of our certainty. His associate leaned over and whispered something into his ear, causing him to scowl and cross his arms.

"I still maintain that you haven't delivered on what you promised," he growled reluctantly. "And unless there is a drastic change in our results and soon, we will be forced to terminate the contract early."

"My team and I will review the strategy again?—"

"No." He shook his head. "We either get a new campaign at no additional charge, a full refund, or we walk."

I had expected him to say that. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but we did our job. There will not be a refund issued, and if you want a new campaign, we would be happy to do that for you, but it will be at our regular fee schedule."

His eyes widened at my words, and his face turned a deep shade of red. He slammed his hand down onto the table, causing the water in the pitchers to ripple from the impact. "This is outrageous!" he bellowed, his voice echoing around the room.

"I understand your frustration," I said quietly, maintaining a calm exterior in the face of his anger. "But we can't be held accountable for factors beyond our control. We worked with the information we had at the time."

He scoffed, pushing away from the table and standing up. His chair skidded backward across the floor. "You've just lost a client," he said. "I will make sure everyone knows how you do business."

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion," I replied evenly, rising from my chair as well. "But I would also like to point out that success lies not just in marketing strategy, but also in the quality and adaptability of the product."

His associate had a resigned look on his face as he followed suit, standing up and gathering his belongings. "We'll see what the market says about our product when it's not tainted by your marketing strategy," he spat out, then shouldered past Isadora and exited the conference room.

Isadora and I stood in silence for a few moments as we watched them storm out of the office. "Should I print the notes?" Isadora asked.

"Why?" I snapped. "We lost them. It's done. They're not coming back."

I walked out of the conference room and went straight to my office, kicking the door shut. I knew we were going to lose the client, but I supposed there was a part of me that still thought I could pull it back. I was used to talking clients down.

I paced in my office. "Fuck," I muttered, running my hand over my face.

I jerked open my door to go find Isadora. She was standing outside the door with her arms folded across her chest. I was immediately contrite. "Can you come in here—please?"

She followed me into my office. I closed the door behind her. "I'm sorry," I said with genuine regret. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just, well, I hate losing."

"It's okay," she reassured me. "You can't win them all. I reviewed the notes. You did nothing wrong. It was them. They know it. You know it. Let them throw a tantrum and try to sell their crappy products on their own."

"Thank you," I said. "I promise not to take my frustration out on you again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she joked. "But also don't make it a habit."

"I won't."

"Good," she said at last, giving my arm an encouraging squeeze. "Tomorrow is a new day, and you have meetings all week to bring in new clients. Better clients."

"You're right," I said before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

Just before five, I got a text from Sloane inviting me to dinner. I wasn't sure if Isadora was onboard with that. I walked to her office, finding her with her hair twisted up in a messy bun with a pencil sticking out of it.

"Hey, are you almost done for the day?" I asked her.

She nodded, still typing. "Yes."

"Sloane asked me to come over for dinner. I thought I would ask you before I replied."

"That sounds great." She looked up and smiled. "The more the merrier."

"I'll see you there," I said. "Should I bring anything? Wine?"

"I think we're good."

Later, I arrived at their apartment, carrying a bottle of wine and a chocolate lava cake from a local bakery.

"That looks so good!" Sloane exclaimed.

"I thought so, too."

"I'm going to finish my homework before we eat," Sloane said.

Isadora was in the kitchen getting dinner going.

"Can I help?" I asked her.

She smiled. "Yes, please. I didn't think you were interested in frozen pizza or Chinese, which tend to be my go-to when I've had a long day. So I'm throwing something together on the fly."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean for you to go through any trouble. I'm a bachelor. I don't mind frozen dinners. Or takeout."

"No, I wanted to make a nice dinner," she insisted. "We both had a rough day. We deserve a good meal."

She gave me some quick instructions, and I diced some vegetables and stirred the simmering sauce, under her watchful eye. The scent of garlic and fresh basil filled the air. The familiar routine of chopping vegetables and stirring grounded me, calming my frayed nerves. Having someone to share my day with also helped.

Every laugh and every smile she gave me chased the shadows away. I took a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, and I planted a kiss on her. She stiffened hesitantly but then melted into it, just for a moment.

With a giggle, she pushed me away and glanced over her shoulder to see if Sloane was around. I went back to chopping vegetables innocently, a grin on my face. Whatever blues her laughter couldn't cure, her kiss did. My soul felt light as a feather.

Dinner was almost done when Sloane hobbled out of her room and went to the door. A moment later, she was bringing Todd in. "We're going to watch TV until dinner is done," Sloane announced before dragging the shy kid into the living room.

"Why didn't you tell me he was coming?" I asked Isadora, my voice tinged with frustration. "I would have worn something tougher looking than a shirt and tie."

"I think you look plenty tough." She yanked my tie and shrugged. "And I assumed she told you about the boyfriend coming over too. She texts you more than me now."

That caught me by surprise. "Don't tell me you're jealous?" I asked, laughing.

She looked away like she was embarrassed. "Shut up. No, I'm not."

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a good squeeze. "I'm new and shiny. Give it a few weeks and she'll be bored of me."

Isadora turned in the circle of my arms and looked up at me. "No, it's good she's reaching out to you. It's just you're not the only one still adjusting. This is all new for me too."

I kissed her forehead. "Then we get to figure it out together."

We finished prepping dinner and the kids joined us at the table. I wasn't thrilled with my daughter's date. Throughout the meal, he was polite and talkative—too damn polite and talkative. I wasn't buying it.

But I behaved myself. After dinner, I insisted Isadora take a minute. She had cooked. Todd and I would clean up. He looked like he might throw up when I told him we were on dish duty. Sloane shrugged and said she would wait for him on the couch.

"I'm going to change," Isadora said and left me alone with the Toddster.

"You wash, I'll dry," I told him, nodding toward the sink filling with soapy water.

He took a sponge to the first dish, not looking my way.

"You know, my daughter left your place upset the other day," I said, my voice neutral. "I don't like it when my daughter is upset. Do you understand me, Todd?"

"Yes, sir." He nodded, staring down at the plate in his shaking hands. "I understand."

I grabbed him by the shoulders and gently turned him to face me. "Let me make sure that you do understand. If you're still seeing your ex—or anyone else for that matter—do the right thing and be honest with my daughter. Respect her enough to break up with her. Don't cheat on her. That's not what a man does. Now do you understand?"

"Yeah, I do, I won't," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I have to go. My parents sent a car to pick me up, and if I make the driver wait, he plays old people music on the radio. Thanks for dinner."

He all but ran into the living room to say goodbye to Sloane. Then he was out the door. I sighed. Perhaps I had been a tad aggressive. But if it kept Sloane from coming home crying, it was good in my book.

"Where did Todd go?" Isadora asked, coming into the kitchen looking fresh as a daisy.

"He said his parents sent a car and he had to go," I replied. "I should probably get going as well."

She touched my hand, but because we were still not telling Sloane about us, that was where it ended.

"Goodnight," I whispered.