Rumor Mill, page 10
It was eight-fifty-five. I had five minutes. I decided it was worth the gamble and yanked on the gear shift, wrenching the car into reverse. The drug store was just a few blocks down. I parked, dodged my way through other customers and spent precious minutes hunting for the right aisle.
Locating my prize, I paid for it and hurried back to the car. Sitting behind the wheel, I peeled the pen out of its plastic container and applied it to my blouse. For a moment, the stain got worse as the liquid from the soap soaked in.
I tossed the pen into the glove compartment. Maybe it would be useful for another day. Driving back to the office, I arrived five minutes late. But when I looked down at my chest, the stain had vanished. Hopefully it was worth the time and I wouldn’t lose too many points for showing up past nine.
I hurried inside and found Annie waiting for me. “You’re late,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” I replied quickly. “I had a stain on my blouse.”
“Teddy, this seems to be a pattern,” she insisted, not making way behind the register for me.
“I swear it isn’t,” I objected, crossing my fingers behind my back.
It would be just my luck to be fired for a stupid mistake when the real problem was lurking in the background. Annie shook her head, as if I was a lost cause. But she didn’t follow up with anything more dramatic. I hoped I could prove that I really was a good employee, but the more time I spent in the gallery, the more of a pipe dream that seemed to become.
“I know you don’t want to hear about my personal troubles,” I started, “but I’ve made a decision that I think is going to bring them to an end.”
“I hope so,” she replied. “Because I really need you to bring your A game.”
“I will,” I promised.
She walked into the back without another word, proving that she still trusted me to run the cash register. It was a small gesture, but I understood the importance. I focused hard on my work until noon when the gallery closed for lunch. Considering that I had made my decision, I wanted to tell Brad.
He had been such a sweetheart last night when he brought roses and chocolate. I had basically pushed him out the door without so much as a thank you. I wanted to make it up to him and let him know that he wasn’t the problem. It was me, one hundred percent. And since I was going to officially give up the fight against Nikki, I was hoping that would clear the way back into Brad’s arms. He deserved all of my attention, not the jaded half-assed variety that I had been showing lately.
I thought about texting him, but it seemed impersonal. I didn’t have enough of a lunch break to drive over and see him, but I could pop out to the car to make a phone call. I wanted to be able to talk freely and not have to censor myself. Leaving Annie alone in the gallery seemed like the best option.
I sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled out my phone. For some reason, the call was difficult to make. I didn’t know if it was because my behavior had been less than ideal recently or because we hadn’t talked very much over the last few days, but I was nervous.
I dialed, wondering what I might say if the call went to voicemail. But he picked up. “Hello, Teddy.”
“Hello, Brad,” I said, putting as much bounce in my voice as possible. I wanted to pretend that the little rift in our romance wasn’t real. It was just a regular Tuesday. I’d rather things got back to normal as soon as possible. “I was wondering if you’re busy tonight.”
“I’m not busy,” he said. His voice sounded hopeful but subdued.
“Can I bring dinner over?” I asked, holding my breath. I hoped he would say yes, but considering my reaction to his visit the night before, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he turned me away.
“Sounds good,” he answered, putting my fears on hold.
“Great,” I replied enthusiastically. “Do you have any requests, or should I just surprise you?”
“Surprise me,” he said. I could hear him talking to someone else in the office, but it sounded muffled and far away. “I’ll be right there,” he said. And then in the background, a woman’s voice answered him.
My heart sank. Who was he talking to, and why wasn’t he mentioning it to me? Was he having an affair? Had he moved on so quickly after I made a lackluster showing the night before? I’d been distracted, and I wasn’t ready for company. The sudden realization that I might have pushed him too far came barreling down on me with the speed of a freight train.
“Who is that?” I asked, trying to remain calm.
“My new assistant,” Brad said.
I relaxed my grip on the phone. Of course. He’d hired a new assistant, and he was just getting ready to go into a meeting. I didn’t have anything to worry about. There was still a chance to repair the breach that I had caused with my anxiety over the lawsuit.
“Did you find someone you like?” I asked, just to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, well, she’s not you,” he answered.
“I hope not,” I teased.
“I have to go,” he said, cutting our phone call short.
“Right,” I agreed. “See you at seven?”
“Make it eight,” he bargained. “I might have to stay late.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
Things hadn’t changed that much in the span of a few weeks. Brad’s habit of arriving early and staying late was one of the things that had brought him so much success in the first place. I couldn’t ask him to give that up, especially not after the way I had acted. Eight o’clock would just give me an extra hour to work out or to do some reading before grabbing dinner and heading over to his place.
For the rest of the afternoon, I was giddy with anticipation. I was finally going to see my boyfriend and get past all the negative drama that had been brewing since my meeting with Nikki. I would explain my plan to him, and he would see the value in it. We could get on with our lives and not spare one more thought for the wounded woman who was trying desperately to get our attention.
I managed not to screw up until five o’clock when I accidentally forgot to lock the front door. A customer wandered in about fifteen minutes after closing and insisted on looking around. It wasn’t the worst problem in the world, but I could see that Annie was irritated.
“Go home,” I told her. “I’ll stay and lock up when the customer is finished.”
She sighed and nodded, giving my arm a little squeeze. She could tell I was trying. I wandered out into the gallery to chat with the customer. Since it was after hours, and I didn’t have anywhere to be at the moment, I felt relaxed. We talked about our parents, and I helped the woman pick out a painting for her mother.
“I think she’s really going to like this,” I said.
“I hope so,” the customer responded, handing over her credit card.
“Picking out art for someone else is always difficult,” I commiserated. “But the colors and the energy of this work are so beautiful, she’ll be hard pressed not to love it.”
“Thanks,” the customer responded, taking her painting and walking out the door.
I locked it behind her, making sure no one else could get in. Wandering through the gallery, I turned all the lights off and unplugged all the machines. Annie trusted me to close up properly, and I wasn’t going to make another costly mistake. There would be no accidental fires or break-ins while I was on watch.
About a half hour later, I was in my car driving home. I still had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Brad, and I thought I would go to the library to browse the shelves. There was something comforting about reading all the glossy spines and knowing that I could take any of them home for free. Even though I was still working on one novel, I picked out three more and drove to a coffee shop to get started.
An hour later, I went home, took a shower, and got changed. It was almost time to pick up some food, and I debated which takeout place to choose. There were the standard options, burgers and fries or gourmet pizza. I wanted to send just the right message to apologize but also indicate continued romantic interest. I decided to pick an Asian fusion restaurant that featured several different kinds of cuisine. Settling on a few smaller menu items, I arranged a kind of picnic. There were spring rolls and rice, along with sandwiches and olives. I grabbed a few sodas for good measure, putting it all on my card.
Driving over to Brad’s house, I had a few moments to think. I hoped he would appreciate my gesture. I know I had been a bear for the past several days and that one measly dinner was unlikely to be the peace offering I’d intended it to be, but it was a start. When I arrived, I found his car in the driveway, which was a good sign.
Grabbing the food, I walked up to the door and rang the bell. It wasn’t two minutes before Brad arrived, gesturing me in. We kissed gently, like an old married couple. It was sweet and gave me hope.
“I brought Asian fusion,” I said, holding up the bag.
“Good choice,” he said. “I’m starving.”
I walked into the kitchen, rehearsing an apology in my mind. Setting the bag down on the table, I turned to him. He was watching me carefully, with none of the overflowing joy of a few weeks ago. I’d done that to him, and the knowledge turned my insides out.
“I’m sorry,” I began painfully.
He shook his head. “Water under the bridge.”
“I made a decision,” I continued while he searched for silverware in the drawer. He brought two forks back to the table and sat down, as if my words were incidental. I paused, knowing that I had a long road ahead of me. He wasn’t likely to approve, just as Andrew didn’t. He would probably also try to talk me out of it, but my mind was made up. I just had to make Brad see that this was the best course of action for everyone involved, including him. “I’m not going to fight Nikki’s claim.”
“What the hell?” Brad demanded, slamming his hands down on the table.
Dinner was forgotten, and the tone of his voice made me realize that I was in for more of a fight than I had bargained for. I inhaled steeply, taking a seat beside him. I had the whole night, and it was important to me to make him understand. I was doing this for both of us.
Chapter 15
Brad
I COULDN’T BELIEVE what I was hearing. What on earth had possessed Teddy to act this way? Couldn’t she see that it was the exact wrong way to deal with someone like Nikki? They continued to push until they got some resistance, and even then, they tested the boundaries. You had to be firm. I could see not wanting to be insulting or condescending, but not wanting to fight at all? It was clearly a mistake.
“Hear me out,” Teddy pleaded.
“Teddy, I don’t think you understand,” I began, cutting her off.
“No, you don’t understand,” she insisted. “It must be so easy living in this big house, not having to worry about being homeless.”
“Do you think Nikki cares about your situation any more than mine?” I demanded.
“No,” she stammered. “It’s not about Nikki.”
“How is it not about Nikki?” I snapped.
“Because it just isn’t.” She stood up, leaving the food unpacked on the table. “It’s about me and you.”
“How in the hell is it about me and you?” I demanded, beside myself with anger.
I went into full-on protective mode. I didn’t want her to do this. She was wrong about everything, and it was my job to show her the light. Exactly how I was going to go about doing that, I couldn’t have said. For the moment, I was nearly blinded by frustration.
“Don’t yell at me!” she demanded, near tears.
I could tell I was pushing too far, but in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t stop myself. She was making a serious mistake, and I wanted her to see it. It didn’t occur to me to slow down and give her the benefit of my experience in a calm and logical way. I was only looking out for her, and if she couldn’t see that, then it wasn’t my problem.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I replied, putting my hands up. “I really am hungry. Maybe we could eat something while you explain your reasoning.”
She eyed me suspiciously, as if I was a cobra who’d wandered into the room and suggested a game of poker. She didn’t believe for a second that I wasn’t going to strike again, but since I was acting so civilized, she allowed her guard to come down.
“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back down.
I watched her lift several takeout boxes out of the bag. When she caught me studying her, I gave her a wide smile. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. I was going to convince her to go through with the court case, no matter what it took. If I had to be the king of soft words, I would do it. She didn’t know who she had crossed.
“Should I get plates?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, opening one of the boxes. It was a mix of rice and veggies, exactly what I was looking for at the moment. “You know what? Don’t bother. I can just eat out of the box.”
Teddy came back to the table, and for a moment I felt like we had fallen into our old roles. I was the boss, and she was the assistant. I had only to ask for something, and she would comply. Some of the fight had gone out of her, but I wasn’t fooled. She was choosing her battles. Worrying about plates was on no one’s radar at the moment. We were gearing up for a deadly struggle where there were literally millions of dollars at stake. It was the calm before the storm.
I took a few bites, relishing the oil and the salt. It wasn’t the kind of thing that I ate frequently, and it hit the spot. Teddy opened up her own box, reaching for a fork. She took a few bites before throwing out a meaningless comment.
“I thought we would share all of the dishes.”
“We can share,” I agreed easily, closing my lid and handing it to her.
“No,” she insisted. “You’re enjoying it.”
Not interested in arguing over dinner, I took the rice back. “Are you ready to talk about Nikki?”
Teddy sighed, putting her meal down. “Yes.”
“Ground rules,” I said, holding up a finger.
She smiled hesitantly, and I could see that beautiful woman I had fallen in love with hiding deep underneath her pain.
“No cutting anybody off,” I started. “No raising voices, and no storming out.”
“Agreed,” she said boldly.
“All right.” I waved my hands, giving her the floor.
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, licking her lips before launching into her argument. I could hear that she was anxious to put the whole thing behind her. I could also hear that it was affecting her life at work. Neither of those things were likely to be resolved by caving in, but I waited patiently for my turn to speak.
“So I think if I just give her what she wants, then this whole thing can be put to bed,” Teddy said in conclusion. “It will be better for her, better for me, and better for you.”
“How will it be better for me?” I asked seriously, trying to understand.
“You can agree that I am partially responsible and that I’m working it out with her. That has to look good for your case.”
“It doesn’t, actually,” I disagreed. “If you accept responsibility legally and begin making payouts, it will be worse for my case.”
“How so?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“The whole premise of Nikki’s argument is that you are ninety percent responsible for the break-in, and yet I didn’t fire you. She’ll say that’s because of our relationship, and she would be right.”
“In that case,” Teddy argued, coming dangerously close to cutting me off, “wouldn’t it be better to agree to her terms?”
I blinked, unsure what she was asking. “You want me to give away my money?”
“I think you should consider it,” Teddy replied.
I narrowed my eyes, all thoughts of ground rules leaking away. What she had just said was preposterous. It was the stuff of con men, and it made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about her. I didn’t think that money was so important to me, but when Teddy suggested that I just roll over and hand Nikki a payout, I balked.
“I’m not going to settle with Nikki. I made her a generous offer, which she refused. Now we’re going to court.” I laced my fingers together and sat back in my chair, waiting for the next onslaught.
“I just can’t get past the fact that I instigated the break-in,” Teddy said.
“You did not,” I argued. “I know you, and you would never have done something so stupid without a lot of help.”
She smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I might have had help, but I’m not innocent.”
“There is a big difference between taking personal responsibility and taking legal responsibility,” I countered. “You could make a big donation to a charity or a university if you don’t want to keep your money.”
“It’s not about the money!” she said, raising her voice.
I held up a finger to remind her of our ground rules. She turned away, scowling fiercely. “It is about the money for Nikki. You’re not doing anyone any favors by treating her like a regular person.”
“How so?” Teddy asked, settling back down and crossing her arms.
“Nikki wasn’t ever invested in Retro like you and I. She’s not some innocent lamb caught in the crossfire.” I laid out my argument as rationally as I could. “For her, it is about the money, and about making sure that we know she’s in the driver’s seat. I can’t afford to roll over. It would be open season on me and all of my businesses.”
“So now you know how I feel,” Teddy concluded.
“I understand how you feel,” I corrected her. “And I know from experience that the last thing you want to do with these people is give in.”
“These people?” Teddy repeated as if I had called Nikki a monster or a prostitute.
“Yes,” I continued. “These people. The ones who see paychecks instead of personalities, who want others to suffer when they are suffering. The ones who don’t care about what actually happened, as long as they can get their hands on the biggest payout possible.”
