Part 26 (1/2)
”What's his name and his firm? Rob knows a lot of the criminal firms in town.”
”Matt Something-Italian-Sounding. Small firm. Young, so he's not too expensive.”
”Young and not-expensive aren't good qualities in a lawyer, Andi. Let me find you someone. Or maybe Hayden knows a good one. You can tell him it's partial payback for all the c.r.a.p you've had to put up with from him.”
”He doesn't know.”
She signed. ”About the interview?”
”About anything. He doesn't know what I did. He doesn't know about this case or the old one.” My chuckle was more sob than laugh-like a sad clown, crying on the inside. ”He doesn't even know my real name.”
”Oh, s.h.i.+t.” Then a lengthy silence. ”When were you planning to tell him?”
”A billion different times, in a billion different ways. But every time I could, I couldn't. You know?” Yeah, awesome excuse.
”So you slept with him but couldn't tell him your name. Wow. So not cool, Andi.”
”I know,” I whined. ”And I feel awful. I kept waiting for the right moment, but it never happened.” Duh, the right time to tell someone you're a total screw-up and have been lying to them since you met... Is that before or after 'never?' ”I was going to tell him last night, and then this morning... It was on the tip of my tongue, closer than it's ever been. But he just lost his job and his marriage, and I made him happy. He was so happy, Em, and I knew it would all change as soon as I said the words.”
”Are you ever going to tell him? Or are your kids going to think their mom's name is Sara?”
Sira, actually. Not that it would be an issue-Hayden wouldn't want me for that long. But I deserved Emilia's disappointment and condemnation, just like I would deserve Hayden's anger when he found out the truth.
”I'm going to end it. I will.” Then I won't have to tell him why. I'll just say the obvious-it was never going to work out anyway. Biggest chickening-out ever, but better than actually hauling out all my baggage, unpacking it, showing it to him, making him feel extra awful, and then having to pack it up all over again before I left. Right? Left. ”Oh man, I'm a mess.”
”What you need to do is stop being an idiot.”
”Thanks?”
”You made a mistake, yes. But how long are you going to punish yourself for it? Forever? Stop being so afraid of who you are. Stop hiding. And when something good comes along, accept that you deserve it.”
”Okay.” What else could I say? ”I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks, Em.”
After I'd hung up, I stared at the phone, wondering what to say to Hayden, if there was a way to make it all right and what he'd say to me once I confessed. I had to figure out how to do it in the least hurtful way. Of course, the least hurtful way was actually a few months behind me now.
When my eyes got dry and tired, I started to pace. Then I took a shower. And then went to the donut shop. I kept myself busy for the rest of the day. The only thing I didn't do was pick up my phone.
34.
Hayden I'd never come into the office later than nine before, and those occasions were only because of a morning meeting or something similar. So going up in a full elevator and entering a busy building was a first. And maybe a last. Ironic that by the time I had something worth taking time off for, I didn't have a job to return to. But walking through the maze at my former workplace didn't bring great sadness or regret. I had acquaintances here, peers, people to run ideas by or say h.e.l.lo to, but no real friends. Here or anywhere else. So leaving wasn't hard.
Endings aren't painful. They're only nerve-wracking because of what follows them-beginnings. Beginnings are packed with doubt, the knowledge that you'll have to relearn everything you thought you'd mastered. Hope is the most terrifying thing in life. Because hope makes you ripe for disappointment.
But not today. Today hope had filled me with nothing but excitement. I knew there would be challenges as Sira and I moved forward, but she'd hog-tied me, just like Carson had predicted. And I'd never been more happily trapped.
I took the elevator up to the fifth floor, walked through reception doing the same thing I always did-nodding h.e.l.lo to the same people at the same desks through the same gla.s.s walls. Funny that I'd never noticed how many walls there were in this place. Gla.s.s walls that kept us separated, everyone in their proper place. Something to hide behind that provided no protection at all.
Bart's secretary stared at me from her desk. I tried not to be bothered by it. Tried and failed.
”Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Beasley?” I asked, flipping to face her.
She rocked back in her chair at the tone of my voice. ”He wants to see you.”
”I don't give a s.h.i.+t if he wants to see me.” I dropped my head forward. ”I'm sorry for being cra.s.s.” I looked up at her large eyes, her knowing and condescending look. ”No. No, I'm not sorry. Please relay the following message to him, if you don't mind.” I cleared my throat, knowing I was about to commit professional suicide but unable to find a reason to care. ”Please tell him that I don't give a flying f.u.c.k what he wants. However, if he expects me to be contrite and kiss his a.s.s, then I will change my mind and happily give said flying f.u.c.k to him-as long as he uses it to go hang-gliding with.” I smiled stiffly at her and walked away.
On the way to my office, I grabbed a cardboard box from the copy room.
I saw Bart through my office door. My ex-employer was leaning on my ex-desk in my ex-office of my ex-job.
”Wasn't sure you'd be coming in today, Bennett,” he said. I wondered how long he'd been waiting for me to show up. Hopefully a while.
”Really? The last time we spoke, you were pretty clear about where you thought I should go. But don't worry-I'll be quick. I actually just left a message for you with your secretary.” I started taking books off the shelves, reading their spines to decide which ones I wanted to keep and putting those into the box. I didn't want many of them. They were reminders of this place and all the mistakes I'd made to get here. The less I remembered, the happier I'd be.
Bart cleared his throat. ”The board overruled me. They want you to stay.”
I didn't respond.
”Did you hear me?”
”I did.”
”They tell me you're doing better than I knew.”
I laughed, not amused. ”Are you here to congratulate me before you call security?”
”I'm here to tell you that things have changed, and you can have your d.a.m.n job back.”
I turned around to look at him, my boss of six years, my father-in-law of three. ”Clare is still gay. I still knew. And you're still a bigot. So I'm not sure what has actually changed.”
”d.a.m.n it, Bennett. Don't be an idiot. I'm offering you your job back. Your dad's company back.”
I saw the fear in his eyes-he'd finally figured out what he'd lose when I left. All my clients and contacts, including those involved in Inspex, along with my father's name and all the status it had provided.
He ground his teeth together. ”If you think I'm going to get down on my knees and beg, you've got another thing coming.”
”Frankly, Bart, the idea of you on your knees for any reason is pretty d.a.m.n unpleasant. So I think we've finally found something we both can be happy about.” I grabbed the box and went behind my desk, picking up the stapler just because. I'd never actually been fired before, so this was all new. Wasn't I supposed to steal something trivial? Out of a sense of spite I didn't feel? Now, if I were required to take something out of a sense of relief, that would be different.
”You and Clare will get a divorce, go your separate ways. Fine. But it doesn't mean you should screw up your life.”
My life? I had no intention of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up my life. In fact, I was here trying to salvage it before it was over. I stopped packing and looked at him. ”Don't spend too much time worrying about me, Bart. I think you'll have other things that will need your focus as soon as I step out that door.”
”You've spent six years here, Bennett.” Yep. Six years stuck in this gla.s.s box. ”Don't throw it all away.”
I chose to a.s.sume he was talking about the pens and notepad in my hand, so I pointedly tossed them into the garbage can. ”I need to ask you something, Bart.”
He nodded, spreading his legs as if we were about to go three rounds and he needed more balance.