by Ava Storm
“That’s good of you.”
“Yeah well.” Wendy jerked her shoulders. “She has a kid. Kids need mothers.”
“They need fathers, too. Typically.”
Wendy’s expression sharpened. “Holy shit. That’s who you are, isn’t it? Alex has always wondered, but she never would tell him.” She frowned. “You’re rich. Why are you making her work at the bank and live in a basement?”
I tried to keep my expression neutral as I filed away those two important pieces of information. “It’s a long story.”
“Skip to the end.”
I finished my breakfast and put down another hundred-dollar bill to pay for it. “I’ll let you know when I get to it.”
When I walked out of Bar, I should have gone straight to Erie Insurance to make my appointment with Alex, but suddenly, the only person I wanted to see was Paige. Wendy had answered all the questions I had for him and then some. They weren’t together. They hadn’t been together in the past two years to concoct some sort of villainous scheme against me or Blip. Alex knew he wasn’t Madelyn’s father, and he didn’t know who was. Wendy hadn’t been able to tell me whether or not Paige was some sort of corporate spy for the competition, but somehow, I didn’t think old Alex would have that information either.
In the middle of the green, I spun in a slow circle, looking around at the town. I had no fucking clue how many basements there were, but I had a feeling I could count the number of banks on one hand.
I’d start there.
35
Paige
It was stupid to want to cry over having a job. I knew this. I’d been unemployed long enough to dig through my couch for nickels, ration how much I ate, and wonder how the hell I was going to afford another month in the city.
Now I was safe. I was employed. I ate the crusts of Madelyn’s pizza because they were delicious, not because I was hungry. But every morning, I woke up and thought about sitting in that teller booth for the next eight hours, and I wished I were back in the city so much it hurt.
It didn’t help that I wasn’t sleeping well. Madelyn wasn’t a good roommate. She thrashed and chattered in her sleep so much that I usually ended up going into the small living room to curl up on the loveseat, which meant I woke up stiff as well as depressed.
Initially, I’d worn my business classy clothes to work, but instead of making me fit in like they had at Blip, they made me stand out. Even the people I’d worked with two years before and been friendly with looked at me like I was different. Even after I switched to jeans, they didn’t invite me to their house parties or for drinks at Bar like they used to do. Not that I would have gone. Wendy worked at Bar, and I had to get home to Madelyn. Plus, I had to save every penny I made because I couldn’t depend on Shirley’s reluctant good will for much longer.
But I was lonely. Alex was there if I ever needed anything. He’d taken us for a grocery run and promised to do it again next week. I knew he’d take me to the car dealership when I was ready. But things had shifted irrevocably between us. Whatever hope he’d harbored that we’d get back together—whatever reluctant consideration I’d given the idea—that was gone now. We were too different. I was grateful for his help, but we weren’t lovers and we weren’t friends, and I missed both of those things.
I missed Amanda and Shelly so much that I had given into tears last Friday night when I called and they were on their way out the door.
“We’re not doing anything fun,” Amanda lied. “It’s a class on um, how to do your taxes.”
“Taxes were due in April, dummy,” I heard Shelly whisper in the background. “You’d think a lawyer would know that.”
“I do know that,” Amanda covered the phone to hiss back. “But it’s the least fun thing I could think of. Also, I’m not a tax lawyer so—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, tears streaming silently down my face. I wanted to be there, listening to them bicker in person. “Have a drink for me.”
Thinking about it now, tears pricked in my eyes again. I forced them back. It was okay to cry in the relative safety of Aunt Shirley’s basement, but I wasn’t going to do it in the teller booth.
I checked my watch for the hundredth time. How could it still only be eleven am? Entire days would pass at Blip in what felt like seconds, but I could fit a whole month into a morning shift at the bank.
Thinking about Blip made me think about Ford. My heart gave a dull, painful thump, but the pain was lessening. It had been most acute when I stopped being angry at him for having me investigated. Now the whole thing seemed like a strange fever dream. Clearly I’d had someone’s baby—it wasn’t Aunt Shirley kicking the bars of her crib all night—but it couldn’t have been Ford’s. I couldn’t have fallen in love with someone and deceived them in such a cruel way at the same time. They were incompatible truths. Either I’d loved him, or I’d lied to him, because what kind of person did both?
“Honey,” the teller in the next booth over leaned behind the partition. “If I hear you sigh heavily one more time, I’m going to hyperventilate.”
“Sorry.” I said. “Bad day, I guess.”
“Well put a smile on that pretty face, because it’s about to get better.” She nodded toward the front door of the bank. “Look what just walked in.”
I felt a moment of deja vu as I turned to look. I was both in the teller booth and in the Cherington bar at the same time. The arc of the room was blurring. A tall, broad-shouldered man was coming into focus. Dark hair, intense eyes. A man who didn’t look like he wanted to be approached.
But he was staring right at me.
I arranged to take my lunch early and walked out of the bank ahead of Ford, my heart alternately pounding with excitement and stopping in fear. I scanned the street covertly. No one looked like an undercover process server or a cop, so I took that as a relatively good sign.
We walked to the edge of town and then, because I didn’t know where else private to go, we went up the hill through the gates of the cemetery. I was so aware of him walking beside me that every step felt electrified, but there was a dense silence lying heavily over us. I didn’t know who should be the first to speak. Him because he’d gone to the effort of finding me, or me because he’d gone to the effort of finding me. I supposed it depended on what he’d found me for.
Punishment or salvation?
We stopped at the top of the hill and looked around. The cemetery stretched out all around us. My parents were in the new section to the left. My ancestors were all over the old section. I’d always morbidly assumed I’d end up here too, until Chicago happened.
Galvanized by the reminder of my own mortality, I finally dared to look Ford in the face. I was surprised to see him looking back at me, his expression braced, as though he too didn’t know whether he would find punishment or salvation in my face. But how could I possibly do either? He was the one with all the power. He had the money, and he could take Madelyn too if he tried. I had no doubt of it. I’d gotten off the front lines by retreating to Branville, but I hadn’t armed myself well enough. I was homeless, single, and making twelve dollars an hour.
I couldn’t even save myself.
Ford stared back at me intently, as though trying to solve a riddle. Then, unexpectedly, he said, “Jameson and Kai think you’re a corporate spy.”
I laughed, but it wasn’t funny. Not really. I’d been so focused on protecting Madelyn that I hadn’t stopped to think what he would think of my other deception. No wonder he was looking at me with such dark suspicion.
“I’m not,” I offered hopelessly. There was no reason for him to trust me.
“Wendy thinks you’re a moron.” He took a step closer.
“Wendy the Waitress? When did you talk to her?” I forced myself not to retreat. I’d hidden from Ford long enough, and it had only brought misery.
He ignored my question. “Stan thinks I should ask you why you did it.”
One more step brought him so close I had to tip my head back to
look up at him. Still, I didn’t step back. Whatever happened now, I wouldn’t run.
“So tell me, ‘Miss Collins’,” he said, “why did you do it?”
I took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to do any of it. It just happened.”
“Not good enough,” he said, his voice rough with impatience. “Start at the beginning. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? You must have known I had the means to take care of a child. Why didn’t you come to me?”
“Because I thought you were engaged.” I told him about that afternoon on the bathroom floor. The positive pregnancy test on the toilet seat. Shelly in the bathtub. The article about Georgia. “I thought that you were just another cheating asshole, and I didn’t want to do to Georgia what Wendy did to me.”
“What Alex did to you,” he corrected. “Wendy thought you two were over. How did you find out that I was interviewing for an executive assistant?”
I dared to smile a little. “When you hired me. No corporate espionage involved.”
Ford waited, his eyes dark and suspicious. My smile faded. It wasn’t ridiculous to him. He really thought I could betray him like that. And why wouldn’t he? Hadn’t I betrayed him in far worse ways?
I hurried to explain. “I didn’t come to your office that morning for an interview. I came because I needed money. I’d been out of a job for three months. Downsizing. I was going to ask for a loan. Then I realized that you thought I was there for an interview, and just...somehow...” I spread my arms out helplessly. “I didn’t plan to deceive you. I just saw the salary and a way out of my problems without creating a new one.”
“Without creating a new one,” he repeated in that bland way that I now knew he used to mask other emotions. “But you ended up creating a new one anyway, didn’t you, Paige?”
I shook my head, the tears I’d been fighting back all day finally filling my eyes. “You have to put yourself in my shoes, Ford. I thought you were with Georgia, and I thought that if you weren’t with Georgia, it was because you were a liar and a cheat. And none of that would matter if you didn’t have the power to take half of the most important thing in the world to me, but you did. I was terrified to tell you about Madelyn. I waited until I literally had no other choice but to come back here if I didn’t.” I flung my arms wide to encompass the tiny town of which we could see every edge from our vantage point. “And then all of a sudden, there was another way. And all I had to do was say yes. I didn’t expect—”
I shut my mouth abruptly and turned away, wrapping my arms tightly around myself, my fingers locking around the hinges of my elbows. “I didn’t expect to like you,” I said to the hill, unable to face him. “Or to want you. Or…”
“Or to sleep with me, compound your lies to me, and then run from me?”
“No,” I turned back around. “To love you.”
His eyes turned dangerous. “If you’re still lying to me, Paige--”
“I’m not.” Without thinking, I stopped trying to protect myself and reached for him. I grabbed the forearm he had crossed over his chest and wrapped my fingers around it pleadingly. “I know that you don’t have any reason to trust me. I know you probably hate me. But I fell in love with you. I didn’t want to. It made things way too complicated. But I did. If I could go back in time, I’d probably do everything exactly the same because it got me Madelyn and for a little while, it got me you.”
His eyes stayed hard. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t force him to forgive me or love me back. All I could do was start telling him the truth, no matter how painful it was. I loved him. I uncurled my fingers and started to step away, but suddenly, the roles were reversed, and it was him holding onto me. It was something between an embrace and an imprisoning, like he wasn’t sure what I was to him yet.
I tilted my chin and let him look into my face, holding my breath as his eyes searched mine. Willing him to see the truth in them. I love you. I’m sorry.
“I’ve never been able to read the people I care about,” he said almost to himself. “Stan says to look into your face for the truth, to listen to you, but I don’t know what the truth looks like or sounds like when it comes to you. All I know is I want you.” His mouth tugged down, like this was a problem, but my heart leapt.
“It looks like this,” I said, staring up at him, trying to show him. “And it sounds like this. I’m sorry, Ford. I love you.” I rose up on tiptoes in his grip. “And it feels like this.” Tentatively, I pressed my lips to his hard mouth.
For a moment, he didn’t respond, but then as I started to sink back, his arms tightened around me so I couldn’t pull away. Without warning, he was kissing me back. His lips were punishing at first, the kiss angry. I wrapped my arms around him, pressing myself against him, trying to imprint the feel of his body against mine on my memory forever because this felt like a last kiss.
Then it changed, softened. His hands unbunched and spread out across the small of my back. He was holding me now instead of trapping me. It didn’t feel like a last kiss anymore, and it didn’t feel like a first kiss either.
It felt like the first of many.
THE END
Knocking Up the Intern (Preview)
1
Jazz
That did not just happen.
I gaped in the mirror.
That. Did not. Just happen.
But it did – it was: I looked like some freak supervillain from a swamp.
At least my hair did: all gooey green spikes and…
“Oh no, no, no, no…” I muttered.
I grabbed my glasses – knew I shouldn’t have gotten ready without them on no matter how low my prescription is, then ran for the shower to see that… Yep, I somehow managed to switch out the green bottle Herbal Essences shampoo with the green bottle Xtra Hold hair gel.
I’d never been a superstar morning person – but this had to top the list.
“Hey Jazz, are you almost ah…” Steph screamed, then laughed. “Oh my Lord.”
“Oh my Lord is right,” I groaned, grabbing a chunk of green gooiness that was my hair.
Stephanie was peering at me through her dark red bangs like I might suddenly drop to the floor and start doing the worm. “But… how?”
“Morning is how,” I grumbled, already leaping into the shower and ripping the curtain across behind me. “Now leave me to fix this in peace.”
Stephanie was still snickering, but was able to stop herself before asking, “Sure you don’t want help?”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ve got 30 minutes to go – I need all the help I can get.”
So, with ample amounts of Herbal Essences, some painful furious gripping and tugging, after my arm was aching enough to fall off and swear off arm exercise forever, finally I was able to run my fingers through my hair.
“You’re welcome,” Stephanie said, as I staggered out of the shower to my room.
“Thanks.” I ducked inside and started flinging myself into the work outfit I’d agonized over last night. “See you soon.”
It would have to be. Today was the day, after all.
Thankfully, staggering into my work clothes and plopping on my contact lenses went faster: I was out of there quick enough that by the time I plonked into the driver’s hand side seat, Stephanie slung me a surprised look. “You’re ready? Really?”
I crossed my arms. “What? You know how much today means to me.”
“I know.” She nodded as she turned the key in the ignition. “Just – that was like three minutes and normally-”
“I know, but can we go?” Realizing how bitchy my tone sounded, I added a, “Please?”
“On it, Jazzy,” Steph intoned as she pulled out of the driveway and onto the road.
“Not that now, please.”
“You and your pleases.”
“You’re supposed to be my supporter.”
“No.” Steph’s pale-lipped smile was firm. “I’m supposed to be your supportive sister. Who reminds you of who you are. It’s my job.”
/>
“So I was a 7-year-old tyrant,” I grumbled. I was so not in the mood for this. “Now’s not the time.”
“You’re right, I’m just being a bitch.” Steph exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the major-major reasons I love my sister more than is probably normal. Like, best-friend love her.
She’s always quick to apologize, to relieve the tension.
“Was it last night?” I asked.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said tightly.
I kept my mouth shut. Last night was the date with Him – aka Steph’s hot co-worker she’s been low-key planning her wedding with for the past year. I exaggerate and yet, not really.
Anyway, it’s not my place to pry, even if talking about it would be a nice distraction from focusing on what’s coming in. I checked my phone again. 15 minutes.
My gaze slid to the window and what it showed outside. Nicer houses with fresh paint and good-looking driveways in more beautiful neighborhoods than ours, a couple of blonde kids on their bellies drawing chalk unicorns on the driveway.
I knew it was coming before it did and tried to stop it and miserably failed, blurting, “Ah, aren’t they cute!”
In the rear-view mirror, Steph’s smile was knowing. “You are way too excited for today, aren’t you?”
“That obvious?”
“Yep.”
I pawed at my recently-purchased Dollarama file folder nervously. “Think I went a little overboard. Filled this little bad boy with ideas after scouring their website for hours last night.”
“Uh-huh, just… Don’t expect too much, ok?” Her eye flick my way was concerned.
“Ok, spill,” I said.
“What?”
“You know something.”
“So? Everyone’s heard of Shoot for the Stars.”
“No, I mean, know-know.”
