Rumor Mill, page 9
Listening to music, I drove home. It was just the radio, but they were playing some songs that I knew by heart. It was actually fun to sing along, losing myself in the upbeat rhythm. But the instant I pulled into my parking lot, all that went down the drain.
Andrew Burke was waiting for me. I had actually managed to forget about the lawsuit for a few hours, and even though he was on my side, his appearance was an unwanted reminder of the upcoming trauma.
Wearing his business suit, he leaned up against one of the columns at the front entrance to the apartment building. He was scrolling through his phone when I walked up to the door, not paying much attention. I knew who he was and who he was there to see from the moment I parked. But he didn’t see me coming until I was right there in his face.
“Teddy,” he said, surprised to see me.
“Hi, Andrew,” I answered, choosing to use his first name since he was using mine.
“I have news, and you weren’t answering your phone.”
I pulled it out of my purse and saw that the battery had died. I tried pushing the home button several times to no avail. I wondered if that meant that Brad hadn’t been able to reach me. We were going on three days now without significant conversation. It was strange. A month ago, that wouldn’t have bothered me, but considering how close we’d become in such a short amount of time, I felt the absence of his words like a sore tooth.
“It’s dead,” I said reluctantly. “I have to go upstairs to charge it. Would you like to come in?”
“Thanks,” he replied, following me through the lobby and into the elevator. We rode up to my floor, talking about the weather and anything else non-controversial.
“In the spring, I’d like to take a white-water rafting trip,” Burke said.
“Have you done that before?” I asked, suitably distracted from my problems.
“A couple times in college,” he answered.
We didn’t get any further into that subject before the doors opened and my floor arrived. I showed the lawyer down the hall to my place. It was a one-bedroom, but it was nice enough. Too nice for me. I shouldn’t have spent the money; if I had saved it, I would be that much closer to paying Nikki off.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” I offered.
“No thanks,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know that we have a court date.”
“Really?” I blanched. I knew that it was happening, but it had never seemed so real. “When?”
“Two weeks from now,” Andrew replied. “I’ll text you the details as soon as your phone is working.”
“My phone,” I muttered, having already forgotten the issue. I reached for the charging cable that lived on the counter, plugged it in, and attached my phone. Immediately, the dial began spinning, bringing the device back to life.
I walked to the kitchen to open the refrigerator. Though I hadn’t been planning to indulge, I needed a glass of wine. Just one glass after the stressful day I’d had. Keeping up appearances and holding my shit together was exhausting. Now that it was over, and the reality of the situation hit me full force in between the eyes, I couldn’t help myself.
“Would you like a glass?” I asked Andrew.
“No thanks. I should go,” he said.
“Just wait a minute,” I pleaded, not wanting to be alone. Taking a sip of the wine, I was reminded of Brad and all the times we’d unwound from the day together. It should be Brad there holding my hand, not Andrew, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Can you go over our strategy?”
“Of course.” He settled down at the kitchen table, opening his briefcase. “According to your testimony, both you and Nikki made choices that night. We’re simply going to illuminate the fact that she had a choice, and she chose to get involved. Whether or not you were the ringleader—”
“I wasn’t,” I reminded him.
“Whether or not we can prove that,” he corrected himself, “you didn’t drag her to the office at gunpoint or threaten her in any way. She didn’t submit any testimony to that effect, and her statement is simply that it was your idea.”
“But I’m the one who called the guards,” I argued.
“Exactly,” Andrew replied. “It will all be part of our defense.”
I settled down, feeling a little bit better about my chances. Of course, the judge would see that I was innocent. Or at the very least, that Nikki was just as guilty as I was. That should even the playing field and erase the specter of the multi-million dollar settlement.
“Your brother tells me you’re having a hard time,” Andrew said, locking the snaps on his briefcase before setting it on the floor.
“Yeah,” I agreed, taking another small sip.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Apart from what you’re already doing?” I joked.
“Apart from that,” he said.
“No,” I replied, feeling suddenly empty after being stuffed with fear for so long. It was a strange sensation. I didn’t want Andrew to leave, but I had no pretense for keeping him there. I should drive over to see Corey, considering that he would be the perfect person to talk to, but I didn’t have the energy. So instead, I just sat there in my kitchen, staring at the wall. “You know,” I began hesitantly, “maybe I just shouldn’t fight it.”
“What?” Andrew snapped, his voice tinged with panic. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Nikki is right,” I said sadly. “I am culpable.”
“No,” he argued gently, “Nikki is a manipulative woman who is only after one thing.”
“Money,” I said.
“No,” he corrected me. “She wants to hurt you because she feels like she has no control in her life. You can’t let her win.”
I sighed, realizing that he was right. Still, the thought of going to court was almost too much. When the alternative was to accept the judgment of a million dollars and work out a payment plan, that almost seemed like the easier option. I could move back to Corey’s house and live over his garage. I could put the whole thing behind me once and for all. And Brad? What would capitulation mean for our relationship? Would he understand? Would it matter? I checked my phone when it was partially charged, and there were no messages from him. Not even one.
Chapter 13
Brad
I HAD GIVEN UP TRYING to contact her by text. The messages weren’t even showing the read receipt anymore. I didn’t know if she was ghosting me or if she simply hadn’t seen the texts. It was frustrating, but I wasn’t going to be that guy who kept texting when all I got was radio silence.
I did, however, feel like we had enough of a foundation to assume that I could go visit her or give her a call. Whatever was happening with her phone, I didn’t want to cut myself off at the knees. A simple house call could clear everything up and put us back on track.
I assumed that Teddy would be going to work on Monday. She wasn’t in the habit of working early or late, so that meant at five o’clock she would be free. I didn’t want to surprise her at the gallery. Just in case there was a scene the way there had been before, I felt that her apartment was a better choice.
“Clara, will you pick up some flowers and chocolates for me?” I asked my new assistant early in the afternoon.
She didn’t even blink an eye before agreeing, proving that I made the right choice in hiring her. Accepting my credit card for payment, she walked out the door and came back twenty minutes later with the requested items. I was pleased to see that the bouquet she’d chosen was mostly red roses. That was the message I wanted to send, and I appreciated the attention to detail.
The chocolates were an assortment in a gold box, perfectly suited for romance. It was cheesy, and I knew it, but I was hoping to make Teddy smile. Sometimes I found that people appreciated cheesy gestures, and I hoped that would be the case tonight.
I couldn’t get out of the office exactly at five. It was more like quarter of six by the time I entered the parking garage. I piled the gifts into the passenger seat, sliding behind the wheel and pressing the start button. The engine came to life, reminding me that my work was done for the day. Only that was a lie. The work was just beginning.
I drove straight to Teddy’s apartment building, noticing her car in the lot. At least she was there; that was a point in the right column. It had yet to be seen whether she would appreciate my gesture or not. I hoped she would. I hoped we could find a way past our argument and resume the loving attention we had been showering on each other up until recently.
Picking up my flowers and candy, I suddenly felt silly. If I was any kind of alpha male, I would make Teddy come to me. It felt a little bit like I was approaching a new investor with my hat in my hand. But that was ridiculous, I told myself. Teddy was someone I cared deeply about. I wasn’t going to play games with her or treat her like any other business deal.
I straightened my shoulders and walked into the lobby, telling myself that everything was going to be okay. The depth of my feelings for Teddy scared me. I was worried that this was it, that our little experiment was over before it really began. I had been thinking all kinds of things that I’d never considered before in my life. Things like family and marriage and children. I might like to be a husband someday. Specifically, I wanted to be Teddy’s husband. If there was any way I could repair our romance, I was going to try.
The hallways were familiar as I worked my way to her unit. I had been there only a couple times, but enough to know exactly where she lived. I knocked on the door a moment later, feeling hopeful. If all went well, she would invite me in, and we could get down to the business of healing each other.
But when she opened the door, I was in for a surprise. Her lawyer sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him. There was a wine glass on the table, painting a disastrous picture. I couldn’t help wondering if he was there on personal or professional business. If he was there strictly for a consultation, should he be drinking coffee? Shouldn’t he have just dropped his message and gone home? What was he doing making house calls anyway? All these ugly accusations thundered through my head, leaving me speechless on her doorstep with roses in my hand.
“Brad,” Teddy said, surprised.
I stepped into the room past her without asking permission. My instinct was to address the other man before explaining my presence to Teddy. She watched me warily, unsure how to react. She kept her hand on the door frame, her feet rooted to the spot.
“Burke,” I said.
He stood up, not in the least bit guilty. I took it as a good sign. It probably meant that he wasn’t there to seduce her, although the possibility remained. Still, his warm smile and confident air led me to believe it was more of an official visit than a social one. I hoped I was right about that.
Turning back to Teddy, I tried to think of something to say. “Can I come in?”
“Now is not a good time,” she said reluctantly.
“I can leave,” Burke offered, reaching for his briefcase.
“No,” Teddy replied sternly. “I have more questions.”
“Maybe I can help,” I offered.
She gave me a world-weary sigh, her eyes drifting to the flowers. “You didn’t have to buy me roses.”
“I wanted to,” I insisted.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she said.
I felt that familiar flare of anger, as if she were judging me and I didn’t measure up. I set the bouquet down on the table along with the chocolates. Apparently, my cheesy attempt at reconciliation wasn’t going over well.
Was this the end of our relationship? It certainly felt that way. If I couldn’t text her and I couldn’t call her, and it was inconvenient to have me around, it seemed like our journey was at an end. I didn’t know how I felt about that. On one hand, I was pissed. No one likes to be dismissed, especially someone who is used to getting their own way.
I gave her a kiss to prove that I was still interested, then walked out the door without saying another word. Let her think on that for a while. When she was ready, I would gladly open my door to talk to her. Until then, I had to protect myself, and that meant shutting down all avenues of communication.
I scowled all the way to the car, and when I finally stepped on the pedal, I pushed it all the way to the ground.
Chapter 14
Theodora
AS SOON AS BRAD LEFT, I cleaned up the roses and the chocolate. I put the chocolate in the refrigerator and the roses in the sink. I didn’t want to look at them at the moment, and besides, there were other more pressing issues. I really wanted Andrew’s take on the whole settlement deal.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Andrew asked, settling back down now that we were alone again.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Please don’t stop.”
“I just don’t think it’s the right thing to do,” Burke continued.
I glanced at the wine glass I had left on the table. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like drinking anymore. Instead, I wanted to keep busy. So I took the glass to the fridge and placed it next to the mayonnaise. Grabbing a sparkling water, I popped the tab and drank heavily.
There were so many thoughts running through my head, I was having difficulty catching them all. Thoughts of Brad and not wanting to hurt him were paramount. I knew he was just trying to be nice, and it was one of the sweetest gestures anyone had ever given me. Still, it had been exactly the wrong time for a surprise visit.
I needed Burke to tell me that it was okay not to fight Nikki’s lawsuit. But he wasn’t playing ball. I couldn’t seem to explain to either him or Brad that I knew the entire situation was my fault. If I had just taken two seconds to think about what I was doing before I opened my mouth to explain my suspicions, none of this would ever have happened. Just two damned seconds, that’s all it would have taken.
Nikki really did lose her job because of me. That wasn’t something she made up. And this inability to tell the truth was a burden even greater than a million dollar debt would have been. I didn’t want to pretend that I wasn’t responsible. I wanted to own up to my mistake.
I didn’t have to pay Annie back for the painting, but that was because she was forward thinking enough to insure the gallery’s possessions. Nikki had had no such insurance against her lost wages. Maybe a million dollars was too much, but I didn’t want to stand up there in front of a judge and argue that I had nothing to do with it. That didn’t seem fair.
“Can’t you arrange another meeting with her?” I asked, sitting down at the table next to Andrew.
“I don’t think that would do any good,” he replied. “From what you told me about her meeting with Brad and what I witnessed in our meeting on Thursday, she doesn’t want to deal.” He watched me for signs of capitulation, but I wouldn’t provide any.
“The thing is that it isn’t her fault,” I continued.
“The point of a trial is only partly to assign blame,” Andrew explained. “The other half is to decide how much each party is liable for. We don’t want to admit anything—”
“But that’s just the thing,” I argued. “I want to admit my part in it.”
“That’s not a good strategy,” he countered.
“I’m not a lawyer,” I said.
“But I am,” he replied. “And you hired me to defend you, and that’s what I’m doing.”
I sighed. It didn’t seem to matter what I wanted. The whole thing was like some kind of scripted dance, and I was just supposed to play my part. If I could keep my mouth shut and just show up for the hearing, everyone else would be happy. But I knew myself well enough to realize that I couldn’t do that. No matter what anyone else said, I knew where the buck stopped, and I was determined to do something about it.
“Thank you for coming all this way,” I said after we had been around and around for nearly an hour.
“I hope you’ll reconsider,” he said, standing up.
“I’ll think about it,” I agreed. “But I’m just not sure I want to go through with the case.”
“That is your prerogative,” he said unhappily. “For the record, I would like to say that I think it’s a mistake.”
“Understood,” I said, showing him out.
When he was gone, I took a long shower, washing off every particle of angst. It seemed like the whole world was against me, but somehow, I felt better just considering accepting defeat. I still didn’t have a million dollars, but the judge would see that. I had my recent paystub and last year’s tax return to prove that I was poor as dirt.
Maybe I could get on a payment plan. Maybe Nikki would soften up if she saw how upset I was. There were more possibilities than the lawyer and my boyfriend wanted me to believe. And releasing the guilt I felt was the most important thing.
I toweled off and got into my pajamas. The streaming service was calling to me with its heady mix of beautiful people and absorbing plots. I dozed off on the couch before climbing into bed, able to get a full night’s sleep at last.
The next morning, I nearly overslept my alarm again. It was not a good sign. I had to rush through my morning routine, skipping the makeup and picking a shirt that had a stain on it. I didn’t realize that there was a problem until I arrived in the parking lot. Looking down, I noticed a wide yellow spot on the beige blouse and cursed myself.
There wasn’t anything I could do about it. I didn’t have a change of clothes, and if I went home to get a new shirt, I would have been late. I hunted through my purse, thinking there might be a brooch or something I could use to cover up the evidence. Finding nothing, I made a pinched face at myself in the mirror.
“What are you, my great-great-grandmother?” I demanded of the reflection. “Why would you have a brooch?”
It made me wonder if the entire line of jewelry had been designed to cover up stains on old-fashioned clothing, and if so, why in the hell they had fallen out of style. If I was prepared like a soccer mom, I could have whipped out one of those stain removal pens. I eyed the clock, wondering if I had enough time to drive to the drug store to get one.
