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Sam nodded. He appeared satisfied with Eddie's responses so far, and Eddie couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a test. It would have been in line with the old Sam's character to conduct an interview on the subject and assess for himself if Eddie was qualified to take the next steps. "Can I offer you some advice?" Sam leaned back in his stool and crossed his arms, still holding his beer. Eddie took in the relaxed sight of his elder brother and felt his own posture loosen as a result. He couldn't believe he was sitting across from Sam receiving guidance rather than pissed-off directives.
"Please do."
"I haven't been in your situation," Sam said, "but that doesn't mean you can't learn from my mistakes. I nearly lost Trinity because I failed to listen to her...and I failed to follow her lead when it counted. We’ve been through a marriage, a divorce, and a reunion together, all because I didn't know when to let go. If you really have feelings for Margot, then you want a partnership with her."
"That's what I'm driving at," Eddie interrupted. "What better way to propose that partnership than marriage?"
Sam sighed. "But that's what I'm trying to tell you, Eddie. If you don't let her in on the conversation you just had with her father, you're already setting yourself up for failure. Margot needs to know what the stakes are, and she needs to know that it doesn't hold a candle to what the two of you share. You want to give her the choice to marry you, but is it a fully informed choice? You can't let your work obligations drive your relationship."
"I can juggle my obligations," Eddie promised. "You'll see. I'm not going to let the agency fall by the wayside. And I'm sure as hell not going to let Margot go without a fight."
Sam's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, Eddie."
"I'm hearing you, Sam," Eddie confirmed quickly. "Your work-life balance was out of whack. You forget that I had front row seats to all you and Trinity have gone through together. And you turned out all right in the end, didn't you?"
"Eddie…" Sam began warily, but Eddie could see it clearly now. Sam was afraid of watching his younger brother repeat his own relationship mistakes. This might be his only chance to allay Sam's fears before things with Margot started moving forward.
"Look, it's just like I told Jonathan. I've already started doing the research. I'm not going into this thing with Margot unprepared. Once she sees I'm in control of things, everything will fall into place exactly like we plan." Eddie took a long sip of his beer and expelled a heavy sigh. "The guy I used to be would have gone with the flow, but I promise you I intend to get out ahead of this situation. If there's one thing I've learned working on the fringes of the agency, it's that you can't forge forward and succeed without a plan. I'll arrange everything so it works out." He grinned. "I'm a Jameson, aren't I?"
"Sometimes I wonder what that means," Sam remarked. Eddie clapped his brother on the shoulder, imitating Jonathan Daley's easy body language in the face of the difficult conversation they had just concluded. He was feeling good, better than he had before. His hangover had almost dissipated, and hearing himself talk had assured him that he was ready to take this thing on. The old Eddie would have flown by the seat of his pants—or worse, sailed fo
r Bali by now. He was a new man, a better man. He just had to stick to Jonathan's plan.
"Hey, Sam, thanks again for coming tonight. I appreciate it. I'm glad I have you on my side. You see? You didn't even have to offer me advice. I've got it all figured out. I'll just take after you, minus all the parts where you fucked up. If I approach the situation prepared, and stick with that plan, there's no way I can go wrong. Margot will see that."
Eddie took one last swig of his beer, sighed happily with his renewed conviction, and set it down on the bar.
Sam just shook his head. "Oh, how the tables have turned," he muttered, but Eddie couldn't imagine what he was talking about.
Chapter Five
Margot
Margot stared out at the heaving waves of the harbor. It was a crystal clear New York City day, and the water was bright and inviting with reflected sunlight. It wasn't nearly as dark and choppy as usual; in fact, by harbor standards it was borderline tranquil.
Her stomach still revolted at the sight. Maybe agreeing to a tete-a-tete on Eddie's boat hadn't been such a hot idea after all.
She hadn't been surprised when Eddie rescheduled their "meeting". There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he hadn't returned to the Thirty Under Thirty party after taking her home and drank himself well past the legal limit at the news of her pregnancy. At least she trusted him to be responsible enough to call for a cab in the post-chivalrous hours of his night. She had seen firsthand the drunken mischief an intoxicated Eddie could get up to...and what the earth-shattering consequences could be.
Not that she was off the hook by any stretch. Hell, when you got right down to it she put the "hook" in "ill-advised hookup". Margot cradled her stomach thoughtfully. It was a habit she had already formed, even though she wasn't showing any physical signs of pregnancy yet. Nothing aside from the nausea, anyway.
She keyed in the code Eddie had texted her earlier and let herself into the private dock. No one came to meet her as she walked down the ramp alone. Maybe Eddie was a no-show. A part of her hoped that he was. She was terrified of setting foot on his expensive ship and losing her lunch.
She tried not to imagine she was walking the plank as she approached the boat on the end. Eddie's ship was small and sleek; it was named Annabella, after his long-deceased mother. Margot's own memories of Annabella were fuzzy, but she remembered that Eddie's mother had always been a warm and caring presence, one that slipped fresh cookies to a visiting Margot and still commanded the respect of her houseful of rambunctious boys.
Just the sight of the boat rocking on the water now made Margot freeze mid-step. She hastily fished through her purse for the sleeve of saltines she had started to carry with her. Recently her bouts of morning sickness were hitting her during the day, and she was hoping to avoid causing a scene. She found that crackers always helped settle her stomach.
"Unforgettable...that's what you are...unforgettable…"
Nat King Cole's rich voice wafted to her. Margot glanced up, startled, and several crackers spilled from her hand. A seagull alighted on a nearby post and squawked eagerly, but came no closer as she strained her ears to listen.
"Like a song of love that clings to me...how the thought of you does things to me…"
She was five years old again. Annabella's radio was on in the kitchen, and Eddie was walking her down the "aisle"—the name that young Margot had given to the long hallway leading to the Jamesons' back porch. Eddie held her hand aloft in his, and gamely spun her around every time they reached the end of the hall to begin their wedding march anew. She had Annabella's apron tied around her head and flowing down her back like a bridal veil.
When Nat King Cole's velvet crooning inevitably faded to commercial, they would pause and turn to one another, joining their hands with sober expressions. Sometimes Eddie would keep a stolen twist tie in his pocket to wrap around her ring finger. "Margie," he would ask her, "will you marry me?"
"I do," she would confirm dutifully. It was just another game, a script memorized between them. Whenever they got to the only part of their wedding vows they knew well enough to recite—"you may now kiss the bride"—they would lean in with their lips puckered, then thrust one another away before they could actually kiss, laughing uproariously at the narrowly avoided gross-out.
