Maya

It doesn’t take us long to spot Grandpa Bert’s lawyer. He would be hard to miss given his boisterous voice and equally loud embroidered tux.

Richard makes a move to walk over to his corner of the ballroom, but I tug him back.

“We should play it cool and wait for him to come to us.”

The ice in Richard’s whiskey glass rattles as he takes a long sip. “You want us to wait and do what, exactly?”

I awkwardly laugh before taking a deep chug of my wine. “Talk?”

He grimaces.

“So how was work today?”

He shoots me a glare. “You were there.”

“I don’t follow you around 24/7. There are plenty of things I might miss, like you struggling with a printer or harassing an innocent employee because they forgot to use Arial font in an email. I mean, come on, what did Times New Roman…