And a Wsecond text, just a few minutes later: Heading with a friend to Spain. Realised I haven’t had a holiday in years. With a friend? Spencer’s stomach clenched, and he wished he’d left the phone at his desk rather than taken it with him to lunch. Nick had never skipped out, always been on time, reliable and steady like few other people in Spencer’s life. Though it figured. Getting trashed in Spain with a friend was one of those things young guys did, and maybe Nick figured that letting his hair down, getting piss drunk and possibly laid— don’t think about that part—was the best way to relax. Besides, Spain was cheap at the moment, and out of season, too. Only problem was, he’d come to rely on Nick for his sanity after each stressful week, especially now that the firm’s big merger deal was heating up again, with lots of musical chairs being fought over in the various practices, and he itched to try to intercept him on the way to the airport. Except that would be far too clingy.
