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Sam sat at the kitchen table in the brownstone, alone, with his laptop folded open in front of him. Eddie's image occupied one side of the group chat, Trinity's the other. Sam had been up all night brainstorming a way to get back into their (mainly Trinity's) good graces, and now that he was pitching it to them, he couldn't stop trying to read every little detail of his ex-wife's expression. He tried to forget about their more intimate encounter the other night and just focus on the work to be done, but every time she shifted her shoulder, and he saw the bra strap peeking out from underneath the wide collar of her T-shirt, his concentration flew out the window.
"If you jesters are finished throwing my olive branch back in my face, I'd like you to seriously consider my offer," he replied. "A communication workshop would not only occupy an unfilled slot in the agency's workshop series, but it will also showcase Eddie and help dispel any rumors that he's unfit and ill-equipped. We can explain our...differing strategies in a professional environment with a panel discussion followed by a Q&A. And we can make 'compromise' one of the main themes of the workshop: why i
t's important, when to look for it, and how to achieve it. William has already signed off on my idea."
Eddie and Trinity exchanged looks; or at least, they did as well as they could considering they were confined to little boxes on a computer screen.
"He may have signed off on it, but what about scheduling?" Trinity asked. "Do we have a room? A time? The workshop series is right around the corner. It might be too late to get attendees on board."
"We'll make attendance mandatory for employees," Sam said.
"Of course we will," she responded.
"I mean, I think this might actually be a good idea, Trini," Eddie said. "You know I'm good on my feet. And I can get more facetime with agency employees this way. It might be a good way to get ahead of any gossip that would surround the onboarding and let everyone see firsthand that I'm a competent professional." Eddie craned closer to his screen and nearly connected with his camera nose-first. Sam sighed as he watched his brother battle with his newly-issued company laptop; the picture pitched horizontal, and a splash could be heard in the background as Eddie lunged for his computer. "Holy shit! That was a close one!" Eddie laughed as the picture righted.
"Eddie, are you in the bathtub?" Trinity exclaimed shrilly.
"Not a bathtub. Jacuzzi!" Eddie lifted his laptop to give them all a better look at the roiling jets and rooftop view. "Want to guess where I am tonight? Better yet, want to guess what color trunks I'm wearing?" He waggled his eyebrows. To call the expression 'suggestive' would be to misunderstand the very concept of subtlety.
"Ugh! Just...try not to kill yourself before the workshop," Trinity ordered him. "I don't need any more messes to clean up. What I do need is coffee. Excuse me, Eddie. Sam. I'll see you at our next meeting." Sam could have sworn he saw a flash of approval in her eyes as she nodded to him. Her screen went black and minimized as she hung up the call.
"That sound like a 'yes' to you?" Sam inquired.
"That sounded like a 'yes' to me," Eddie agreed. "You're in, bro. As far as I'm concerned the panel's on. And it's probably a good thing she didn't guess about my swim trunks, because I'm not wearing any." Eddie grinned, and Sam massaged his forehead with his fingertips. "Not a great segue, but want to come over? I'll text you the address. I'm housesitting for Greg and his place is cush. He puked at your wedding, remember?"
"I remember," Sam replied. "Have a good afternoon, Eddie."
He ended the call and sat back. He flung his arms wide, stretching, and found there was less tension in his shoulders than there had been previously. He decided he'd go for a run...in a bit. Right now, he wanted to bask in his success. He had finally brainstormed an idea that Trinity seemed willing to get behind—and it was an idea that would also thrust Eddie into a favorable light within the company culture. There was no way his brother could fuck up something so straightforward on his watch.
So long as he convinced William to put him fully in charge, he didn't see how anything could possibly go wrong.
"...and you just know Sam's going to find a way to control everything about the workshop!" Trinity groused. "I'm not even sure he knows what 'compromise' means. And now he wants to make that the overarching theme of the talk? He'll beat his own fucked-up definition of the word into the minds of our attendees like a square peg into a round hole!"
"Hmmm. Haven't heard that one in a while." Jessica, her best friend—and once maid of honor—sat across from her at their usual coffee table and blew the steam off her Americano. "All I know is that's the third metaphor I've heard you use this morning that's involved trying to fit something into a hole. Sounds like someone needs to get laid."
Trinity bristled. "I'm not...I don't...look, don't you think I've been trying to get laid?"
"No," Jessica deadpanned. "I don't."
Trinity wanted to rise and storm out to exemplify the injustice of Jessica's claim, but she couldn't retreat. This relationship-talk terrain was too precious to lose. "I've been going to all these singles' functions, haven't I?" she pointed out. "I'm going to ballroom dancing tonight. I'm actually enjoying my life, unlike Sam!"
"Mhmmm." Jessica pushed her blond curls back and took a stab at the chocolate muffin they shared.
"I just wish he'd acknowledged the other night," Trinity muttered. "Considering it's Sam, I guess this whole workshop scheme is the best resolution I can hope for. Obviously our...meeting at the brownstone has been on his mind, it's just…" She shook her head in exasperation. She wanted to discuss the moment she had shared with Sam, but she wanted to do it with him.
She could still feel the wet heat of his mouth on her neck, and the warm imprint of his hand beneath her shirt. She had let her own touch linger over her breast in the shower that morning; she had even let herself imagine for a moment that he was there.
"What happened the other night?" Jessica's prompting drew her out of her daydream. She leaned in, and Trinity retreated by pretending to check her phone. "Oh, come on, Trinity! Spill!"
"He's just...always around now," Trinity said. "We have a lot of things to discuss between us. In general. Work things."
Jessica sat back and pursed her lips. She didn't look convinced, and Trinity didn't blame her—it was a weak cover. "All right. I'm going to run with what you just said, since it's obviously all I'm going to get out of you for now. Why do you want to work with Sam again?"
Trinity blinked. "I'm not...we're partners in onboarding Eddie. William's the one who set it up."
"And William only agreed to this workshop after Sam pitched it to him," Jessica pointed out. "You could have said no. Sounds to me like you're taking your partnership extracurricular."
Trinity opened her mouth to protest, before biting down on her tongue when she realized she had no good defense. Instead, she took a defiant sip of her coffee, even though she knew it was still too hot, and she wound up singeing off every taste bud in one fell swig. She tried to conceal her wince.
