Helped by the Enemy

Chapter 2-Text or not?

Luc

My phone buzzes out yet another text. I have over fifty messages left on read, half of which need a response. Is it crass to hire an assistant whose sole job is responding to texts? I dismiss the idea as quickly as it came. It's 6:30pm and my work day is no slower than this morning. I run a hand through my dark hair. Geez, I need a haircut. I lift my phone to put in a reminder for a cut when I notice the unusual number and freeze.

'Vivienne No-Hart' clear as cellophane. Even her name makes me squirm in my seat. Why would the petite she-devil be texting me? The only reason her number's in my phone at all is because of the wedding group chat. But Adrian and Charlotte have been married three months, and Vivi has been blessedly absent from my life. That girl is the sort of trouble I don't need right now. Or ever. So why am I aching to open her message when I have fifty others of greater importance?

I glimpse the opening words to her text before deciding whether to open it.

'It's Vivi, Charlotte's cousin...'

As if I could forget her.

'I know this is random and we aren't friends but...'

In true Vivi fashion she didn't begin with pleasantries. No hey, how are you? or it's more casual cousin sup? She skipped right to business. Could her text end on any more of a cliffhanger? My finger hovers over the unread text thread. I know I'm going to open it, but my delay is soothing. I can't give this woman any more power over me. My hesitation is a tiny act of rebellion.

I busy myself with wrapping up a few time-sensitive emails. Deciding five minutes is enough of a rebellion, I open her text.

     Vivienne No-Hart: It's Vivi, Charlotte's cousin. I know this is random and we aren't friends but the fact I'm texting you should show my level of desperation. I need financial advice. If you can help, I would be very grateful. And if not, I totally understand. LMK And please, will you keep it between us?

Vivi needs my help? Ladies and gentleman, grab your coats because Hades hath froze over. I imagine various scenarios which would bring her to seek my assistance, none of them good. I reread her text at least three times, over analyzing. She actually said please. Please keep it between us. My first instinct is to tell Vivi no or send her one of my employees contact info, but that please stops me. I can sense her despair coupled with vulnerability. And any version of Vivienne Hart that isn't strong and confident doesn't sit right with me. I need her to be okay. I type a quick response.

     Luc: Let's meet for lunch and you can fill me in on the details. Tomorrow@12:30? Steak 48??

I press send before I can overthink it. Tomorrow is soon but school is out for summer so she might be available. And if I'm going to help her, I need to rip it off like a bandaid. Quick and painless. Then I can go back to my Vivi-free life.

I stare a little too intensely waiting for her text dots to start jumping. One minute passes and static. I feel uncomfortable in my skin and put the phone face-down on my desk. Another thirty seconds and I turn it over to see if she responded but my phone forgot to vibrate. And a) my phone works fine, b) my brain is the one short circuiting.

I dive back into work, admittedly distracted. She's the one who asked for my help, why would it take so long to respond? Is she already regretting asking for my help? Just as I'm spiraling with possibilities the phone buzzes beside me. If it's another client I'm going to be angry. I lift the offending electronic.

Vivienne No-Hart: Okay. I'll see you there

The short and pointed message leaves me wanting. I expected an argument about the time or at least the upscale restaurant I chose. But instead Vivi flatly accepted. I should be grateful for her compliance, but I itch to text back something antagonizing in order to illicit a response. I let self-control win. If she's going to be professionally civil, then I'll follow suit. I chose to 'like' her last message as a casual confirmation of our lunch plans.