Back to You(26)
“Hey, Robert. It’s me.”
“Murphy, good to hear from you. I actually have a question for you regarding the Reynolds account. Do you have a minute?” Of course I have a minute, but he has to know I’m not calling to consult about the Reynolds account.
“Sure, I can help you out with anything, but—” Don’t be a pussy, Murphy. Think of the Band-Aid method and just fucking say it. “Robert, I’m calling to let you know I’m declining the offer.”
“Declan, you’re making a huge—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence because you’re wrong. With all due respect, Robert, this is the best decision I’ll ever make. The firm is important to me—fuck, making partner has always been my dream, but my marriage and my family is my priority right now. I don’t know if you can understand that and quite frankly it doesn’t matter if you do, but I cannot take that offer and I’m giving you my final decision now.”
I wait in silence for a few long seconds. I can picture Robert squeezing his tie in his hands the way he does when he’s brainstorming or completely stressed the fuck out. When he starts to speak, his tone is stern. “This is a fucking shock! I mean, there’s so much to consider. I don’t know how the hell we’re going to convince Archer to let us keep the account without you as his front man. He’s going to be irate!” he shouts. There’s a loud sound on the other end. I think he must have slammed something down on his desk—at least it wasn’t the phone. The fact that he’s still on the line is a good sign. Maybe I can keep my job somehow.
Before he has the chance to make that decision for me, something comes to mind. “Listen. I know you didn’t expect this and I’m sorry I’m not the go-getter I once told you I was, but let me talk to Archer. I’ve trained Walter McMahon on the ins and outs of that account—shit he probably has a better handle on it than I do. Maybe I can convince Archer to trust Walter. I’ll do all the necessary schmoozing and overtime to whip him into gear and make him the man for the job. He’s young, he’s career-driven, he’s single and unattached. Heading this account is a wet dream for someone like Walter McMahon.” It’s the truth. Now, if only Robert buys it.
“Walter fucking McMahon?” he screeches and then starts to cackle. “Are you fucking high? There is no way in hell a guy like Archer is going to trust a newbie like Walter McMahon. He’s a little shit, he can’t handle the kind of demand we need from him. He’s not ready!” Okay, so maybe he needs a little more coaxing.
“Robert. Can I ask you something?”
When he doesn’t answer I take it upon myself to continue. “Do you trust me? I mean, you must because you were ready to put me in charge of the firm’s number one client. So, knowing that, I’ll ask you again—do you trust me?”
He’s silent again for like the tenth time in this tiny conversation. Fuck, I must have his balls completely twisted.
When he clears his throat to speak, I ready myself for something irrational. “I can’t believe you’re passing this up. I would have never done something this stupid at the stage you’re in but—” He takes a long pause, and then lets out a loud huff. “That’s where we differ, Murphy. I don’t get it because I always made work come first. I always will, too. Maybe that’s why my son hates me and—never fucking mind. I trust you, okay, you love-sick asshole. So on Monday you better start force-feeding McMahon all things Archer and it’s up to you to make Archer hell bent on believing that Walter is fucking God.”
I lift my head up to the sky, silently praying for this stroke of luck. Thank you, Jesus! And thank you, Robert for having a heart somewhere underneath all the years of neglecting it. “You have my word, Robert. We’ll make this work. I’ll see to it.”
“Damn straight, you will. Now, before I lose my shit and change my mind… how the fuck did you come up with this figure for the Reynolds quarterly?”
After walking Robert through the numbers, calming him down, and convincing him to believe that Walter is the new man for the job, I have another idea brewing in my head. I’d like to call it a freaking brainchild! I hate keeping secrets from Mia—and I intend on telling her about declining the promotion first thing tomorrow morning—but this last thing I want to do is a surprise and I’m pretty sure Mia’s going to love it.
I search the contacts in my phone and decide on calling Margaret, the travel agent who helped me find this place. She was very helpful and informative and I think she’ll know exactly what direction to lead me in. I look at the time and hesitate waiting till morning to contact her—it’s probably too late, but then again—ah, what the fuck, it can’t hurt to try.