Water's Edge Read Free Page B

the opportunity to work at a place like Barnes, McGraw, and Crowther. Tom felt degraded that his status had changed from “Future Partner” to “Former Associate,” a description forever synonymous with failure. As he and Mark worked, Tom struggled to push his disappointment and hurt feelings aside.
    “Let me know when you’re ready to leave,” Mark said when they finished. He closed his laptop. “I’ll help you carry your stuff to your car.”
    ______
    All Tom’s personal belongings fit neatly into four boxes. He’d decided to leave quietly. At 5:30 p.m. there was a knock on the door and Mark entered.
    “I knew you’d try to sneak out. I’m not going to let that happen.”
    “I can handle it,” Tom said. “It will only take a couple of trips.”
    “Don’t argue.”
    On their way to the elevator they passed the cubicle where Allyson Faschille, the administrative assistant who’d taken the last phone call from John Crane, worked. She glanced up.
    “Bye, Tom. I’ll miss you. Best of luck. Congratulations, Mark. I’ll miss you too.”
    Tom turned to Mark. “Congratulations?”
    “I’ll fill you in once we’re on the elevator.”
    The elevator door opened, and they stepped inside.
    “Did you accept the job with the firm in Sandy Springs?”
    “No.”
    “But Allyson said she would miss you too.”
    Mark stared straight ahead. “I had a meeting with McGraw after you and I went over your cases. I’m moving upstairs into Brett’s office. Allyson and I won’t be working together.”
    Tom’s jaw dropped open. “They made you a partner?”
    “Yeah,” Mark replied with an apologetic look on his face. “It’s as much a shock to me as it is to you.”
    “Did he tell you why?”
    “If you mean why me and not you, the answer is no. He mentioned I was doing a good job, then gave me a big stack of paperwork to read and sign. It was over in less than five minutes.”
    The elevator reached the ground floor. Tom stumbled into the foyer.
    “I wanted you to hear the news from me,” Mark said. “If I had the authority, I’d tell you to take that stuff back to your office.”
    The two men walked in silence to the parking deck and put the boxes in the trunk of Tom’s car. It was an awkward moment.
    “That’s great news for you and Megan,” Tom said, hoping his face didn’t reveal the struggle inside. “You need the security that comes with a partnership more than I do.”
    Mark smiled. “Man, you should have heard her scream when I called and told her the news. She’s probably online looking for houses right now.”
    Tom tried to smile, too, but suspected it looked a bit crooked.
    “Give me a call as soon as you’re back in town so we can grab lunch,” Mark said. “And keep me in the loop on your job search. Now that I’m a partner I can write a killer letter of recommendation for you.”
    “Thanks,” Tom managed. “I’ll do that.”
    Tom sat in the driver’s seat of his car for a few seconds and wondered if he would have been as gracious as Mark if their situations had been reversed. He watched the excited new partner disappear through the door leading to the office tower. Tom drove out of the parking deck. There were a lot of emotional potholes on the road to unemployment. So far, Tom felt like he’d hit every one.
    ______
    Tom could get home in less than thirty minutes unless he had to stop off for Chinese, Mexican, Japanese, Indian, Jamaican, or one of the other types of ethnic food craved by Clarice. Tom’s girlfriend grew up shuttled between divorced parents, neither of whom cooked. To her, take-home was the same as home cooked.
    There were four apartments in the two-story building where Tom lived. It was an older structure with high ceilings, crown molding, chair rails, and dark wood floors. His apartment was on the ground level. He parked in a reserved spot off the street beside a high privacy fence that sealed in a tiny backyard. The smell of the food on the car seat made his