Page 52 of Gold Rush

He chuffs. “Yeah. Showing up on a Saturday is a good start. People take notice of that dedication.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice to get this completed on time,” I admit. “But thanks.”

Jake nods. “Good luck.”

I get through another fifty pages before my phone begins buzzing. At this rate, I’ll never get through the rest of the documents. But I haven’t talked to Rhody in a few weeks, so I pick up.

“Hey, man,” I answer, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can continue clicking.

“You moved?”

Ah fuck.

“You’re at my place?”

“Is it your place? Because the doorman seems to think otherwise.”

“Yeah. I mean, no, it’s not my place anymore. I moved out.”

“What? When? Why? This building is awesome. I wanted to use the pool.”

“It’s a long story.” I grab the foam ball with the firm name off my desk, squeezing it a few times. Suddenly extra stressed. “I haven’t seen you since I moved, or I would have mentioned it.”

“What’s your new address? I’ll come over.”

“I’m not home. I’m at work.”

Rhody laughs once. “What? It’s a Saturday, and I thought you said you were at work.”

“Fuck off, man. You heard me right. This is a big case.”

He whistles. “Damn, dude. Make sure you mention this the next time your dad is being an ass.”

I squeeze the ball tighter. “Yeah, I will.”

“Okay, well, are you going to make it to Graham’s birthday party tonight? You’ve barely been around this summer. Aren’t you done with all the bar exam stuff by now?”

“Yeah, I’m done. Where’s the party?”

“His parents’ new Southampton house. They just finished construction a few weeks ago. I’ll send you the address, but you literally can’t miss it. They built on the Windsor lots.”

“I’ll try to make it.”

“Don’t try. See you there.”

We hang up, and I resume clicking.

18

“We were downwind, so I had to turn the stern into the wind. That’s what causes the sail and the boom to swing across. It’s a pretty advanced move. Another few hours of practice, and I could probably win America’s Cup.” Wren glances at Sawyer, who’s sitting beside her, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Right?”

“I would never argue with you,” Sawyer says, straight-faced.

Wren flips her hair over her shoulder before reaching for her water glass. “You love arguing with me.”

Sawyer smirks. “Teams that win America’s Cup typically spend three to four years training. Cardio endurance, simulator testing, and iterative design refinement are all perfected before competing. Two sessions of you taking over once it’s the ‘fun part’ probably wouldn’t put you in first place.”

My sister rolls her eyes.