Indiscretion

by Anderson, Callie

  I shook my head and laughed at how naïve he was. “Fucking idiot,” I mumbled under my breath.

  After lunch, I stuck around the house long enough to help Margaret in the kitchen and catch up with Wilson. Then I said goodbye to my parents before Theo and I headed back to Manhattan. His plans had changed in the past few hours. His night out at the club had apparently fallen apart, so he was planning to spend the night with his lady friend.

  Who was pussy-whipped now?

  17

  Katherine

  Having lunch with my mother was tedious. It wasn’t as if we didn’t get along. I loved her, but our relationship was better from afar. Now that I was growing up and we were growing further apart she was overcompensating for the years she left me alone and worked like crazy to keep the lights on. At a stage in my life when I needed to be the rebellious teenager and have the mother who grounded me, she was missing in action working long hours. There was no curfew, no chores to be done around the house. She took me shopping and didn’t care that my skirts were too short or that my tops were cut right under my boobs. Of course, this was post Gary when I felt I would be better off if the world would swallow me hole.

  I needed her to be a mother, I needed her to see that Gary was a monster, and instead, she spent that time being my best friend. After a few slips and bumps in the road, I had since changed my life around, but our relationship was still not fixed. Hence, the reason I always brought Lila and Ben out to lunch with us. They were my buffers. And my mother loved more than anything to meddle in their personal lives.

  “How’s the internship going?” my mother asked as she picked the tomatoes off her salad. I watched her with annoyance, remembering how she’d explained to me that tomatoes were a fruit and filled with sugar. She didn’t allow herself to eat carbs. They ruined her figure. It was bad enough I had given her a few stretch marks when she had me at eighteen. No man wanted to marry someone who was overweight, she’d say. I always wondered how to make them stay. My mother was rail thin, and yet she was on husband number six. I’d personally eat the carbs, but she and I were very different.

  I sighed as I felt Ben’s hand on my forearm. My mother did the best she could with the hand she was dealt, I reminded myself. She wasn’t the smartest or the richest. She needed her good looks to continue to live the lifestyle she liked. It was also the reason her salad cost thirty dollars.

  “It’s going well. I’ve been busy, but I like it.” I tried to keep the conversation light.

  “You know, sweetie, if you work too much, you won’t have time for a boyfriend.” She looked up at me and winked.

  “Mom.” I closed my eyes, dreading where this conversation was going. In her mind, I should have been married and on baby number two by now. “I don’t want a boyfriend. I want to focus on my career.”

  Ben chuckled under his breath, and I knew he was referring to the stranger who dropped me off. Lila eyed him warily. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach, and I assumed Lila would catch on. Yanking the conversation away from me, I turned it toward her.

  “You know, Lila is the one who works like crazy.” She shot me a glance, and I moved my gaze toward my mother. “She spends countless hours in the ER,” I quipped, knowing very well Lila would hate me for this. But in all fairness, I’d do the same for her and her mother.

  “It’s not that many hours,” Lila argued, and I mouthed a quick I’m sorry.

  “I want to know about that boy of yours.” My mother smiled as she remembered that, unlike me, Lila had a potential husband on her hands. “The one who came to your college graduation.” My mother waved her hand, trying to remember his name. “He was so handsome with that blond hair and those green eyes of his.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lila smiled. “Caleb,” she added. “We’re still sorta together.”

  “I’ll tell you.” My mother shook her head, and her Southern French Boston accent appeared. And there wasn’t anything southern about her, but she swore men loved the Southern belles. “You need to make yourself available to a man like him. He will have girls crawling all over him. And if he has a lot of money, forget it. You need to marry him right away.”

  “Or,” I interjected, “Lila can study to be a phenomenal surgeon and make her own money.”

  “It’s not that simple, sweetie.” My mother shook her head as if the thought of Lila becoming more successful than her potential husband was absurd. “Men get intimidated by successful women. You get too high in your field, and they want nothing to do with you.”

  I opened my mouth yet again to argue with my mother when the vibrating on my lap distracted me. The first thing I saw on the screen was his name, and instantly all the anger I felt toward my mother’s need to marry rich vanished. That was her opinion, and she was entitled to it. I, on the other hand, tuned her out and looked down at my phone as another message came in.

  Cole: Hi. I need you under me again.

  Cole: Can I see you later?

  Me: I’m having lunch. Can I text you later?

  Cole: Where are you? I’ll meet you.

  Me: We can’t be seen together.

  Cole: I don’t give a fuck. I need to see you again.

  Me: Maybe later.

  Cole: Promise?

  Me: I'll let you know.

  Holding the phone close to me, I knew that my lips were yanked back in a smile and I felt the warmth on my skin.

  “Everything okay?” Ben asked.

  “Fine.” I bit my lower lip. Just work.

  “Sure.” He pouted as his eyebrows pinched together.

  As luck would have it, my phone rang again, and this time it was a text message from Mackenzie.

  “See.” I turned my phone screen toward him.

  Mackenzie Adams: Hey, girlie. I’m off tomorrow. Want to get a mani and pedi?

  Me: Yeah, I get out of work at 5. Can we go then?

  Mackenzie Adams: Sure, I’ll text you the place. See you tomorrow.

  When I looked away from the screen and back up at Ben, the corner of his lip was pulled into a small sneer. “You may think you’re fooling everyone here, but I know there is someone behind that smile.”

  Unable to respond, I cleared my throat and dove right into the conversation my mother was having about the value of loving your husband. Maybe she loved them too much: hence, she was on marriage number six.

  * * *

  Tuesday afternoon, I walked into the nail salon Mackenzie suggested. I was early, so I picked a color and waited for her to arrive. As I was flipping through the New Yorker, the door opened and in came the woman who potentially held Natasha’s case in her hands. I stood to hug her.

  “Hi, lady.” Her raspy voice was sexy and sultry, matching her personality.

  “Hi, Mackenzie.” I wanted to help the case and possibly get information for a criminal suit against Evan, but it sucked that I had to lie to Mackenzie to do it. This wasn’t the type of lawyer I wanted to be. I didn’t want to trick people to confide in me.

  “Thanks for the invite.”

  “Anytime.” She threw her hand in the air. “Come on, let’s go get our toes done.”

  She locked her arm with mine, and we walked through the small salon. I tossed my pumps to the side and climbed into the chair, soaking my feet in the warm blue water. The jets tickled my toes. Pressing my back into the massaging chair, I looked over at my new friend.

  “How was work?” Her eyes were bright, and a full smile spread across her face.

  “Eh, same shit, different day. How about you? Do you only work at Shakes?” I knew the answer to the question thanks to Poochie, but I figured it was polite to ask.

  “Nah, I only work at Shakes on the weekends. I work at a shelter for rescue dogs and cats during the week. It’s nothing fancy. I make pennies, really, but working with all the lonely, innocent animals makes it all worth it.” She pressed the buttons on her chair until she found the pressure she wanted.

  Mackenzie and I chatted while our toes got pampered and ou
r backs rubbed. Her file stated all the facts about her—her job, residence, email, and so forth—but I was getting to know the real Mackenzie, not the manila folder one. She was a Southern girl, born and raised in Mississippi, moved to the Big Apple for school, then fell in love with the crowded city and stayed. I shared as much as I could: where I grew up, where I went to school and college life. I left out that Lila moved out here with me since I’d already told her Ben was my only friend.

  After our toes and hands were painted, we sat in the back room and waited for them to dry. The guilt I felt only got worse with each passing minute. I hated that I was lying to Mackenzie. I wanted her friendship.

  Chewing on the inside of my lip, I looked down at my hands.

  “Hey, you okay?” she asked, bumping her shoulder with mine. I looked at her and nodded. “You want to talk about it?”

  I hate this. “No, I’m okay,” I lied.

  I tested my nails to see if they were still wet before I dropped my shoes in my bag and slid on my flip-flops. After we both paid, I followed her outside.

  “So, do you want to grab a drink?” Mackenzie asked.

  I couldn’t take the guilt any longer. “Mackenzie, I lied to you,” I finally admitted.

  Shocked, she stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  I sat on the bench outside of the nail salon, and Mackenzie sat next to me. “I lied to you, and I’m so sorry. I don’t work with Evan.” She moved to stand, but I grabbed her arm. “Please, let me explain.”

  “Fine,” she said, sounding agitated.

  “I don’t work with Evan. I actually work at a law office. My client is Natasha Venturini, and she’s suing Evan for unfair and deceptive business practices and slander in a civil suit.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I had a friend look into Evan. You and three other women filed rape reports on him, but then dropped the charges.” I rested my hand on hers. “I might be able to help you put him behind bars.”

  “You lied.” She pulled her hand away. “I bet you’re not here alone, are you?” Her eyes darted around nervously.

  “Mackenzie, please. I understand you’re mad, and I feel terrible about lying to you, but I didn’t know how to approach you. When I spoke with Olivia, I came out with the truth right from the beginning, and she shut me down immediately. I thought if I tried a different approach with you, maybe you would trust me, but I don’t want to lie to you. You seem like a great person, and I don’t want to screw up our friendship.”

  I stood as she began to walk away. “Mackenzie!” I shouted.

  Turning abruptly, she marched back to me. “You don’t know anything about me.” She shoved her finger in my face. “And you sure as hell don’t know shit about me and Evan.”

  “But I know what a secret can do to a person, and I’m just trying to help. If you know anything that can help the case, it would really help my client. My offer stands. If you want to charge him again, I’ll help you any way I can. Again, I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  I turned and headed back uptown. I’d probably thrown my case out the window, but I couldn’t be that person. No more lying.

  * * *

  I felt like utter hell after Mackenzie stormed off, so I headed home. Taking the subway only halfway, I got off and decided to walk. I needed time to process my next moves. Maybe I was too invested. My feet trod forward. I felt defeated. There was nothing else I could find on Evan. If these women wouldn’t share information with me, I had no hope of making anything stick to Evan. If he faced no consequences, what would stop him from taking advantage of more women—financially and physically?

  Later that night, I entered the apartment and found Lila cleaning in her booty shorts and tank top, the radio blasting. Lila didn’t clean the house unless she was stressed or upset. I rushed to the radio and lowered the volume, so I wouldn’t startle her.

  “Hey, Kitty Kat.”

  “Need help?” I picked up an extra rag from the table. “Or do you want to talk?” She opened her mouth to answer me, but I held my hand up to stop her. “Actually, hold that thought.”

  I ran back to my bedroom and dressed in my sweats and shirt, then I stopped by the freezer on the way back through the living room and dug out my caramel swirl. With two spoons in hand, I sat next to Lila.

  “Spill,” I said, taking a big spoonful. Lila sat there with a quizzical look on her face. “I know you, girlie. You don’t clean unless you’re worried or angry. So what happened?”

  After exhaling, she finally spoke. “I lost a patient today, and Caleb sucks ass.” She took the container from me and scooped a big spoonful. “It’s whatever, I guess. It happens.” She swirled the ice cream from side to side in her mouth.

  “Caleb? What did he do?” I questioned, surprised that she was upset with him. Since they’d been together—and together was a relative term for them—she had never once been upset with him.

  “I went to the on-call room to sulk after my patient passed away. She was such a kind old lady, and there was nothing we could do for her. When I sat down to close my eyes for a bit, there was a copy of Page Six on the bed with a collage of Caleb and some blonde.”

  “But I thought you didn’t want a relationship?” It was fucked-up to throw her own words at her, but she needed to understand that he wasn’t going to wait forever.

  “No, I don’t want one, especially when my shifts at the hospital take up most of my time. But I also don’t want him to tell me he understands and then show up at the hospital to see me after he was at an event with her. I don’t want to be the consolation prize that he gets to fuck when she doesn’t want him, you know?”

  “I don’t think it’s like that, Lila. Caleb adores you. He practically worships the ground you walk on. Have you talked to him?”

  She shook her head, her eyes glassy with tears. Standing, I reached above her and grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila from our bar. “Come on, cleaning isn’t going to help you out of your funk. Tequila and takeout, on the other hand . . . now that’s a different story.”

  I poured us each a shot. Tilting my head back, I let the alcohol burn my throat before I looked at Lila and smiled. Her face changed. She was no longer pissed but intrigued.

  “Who did you sleep with, Katherine?” She took the tequila bottle from the bar and poured us each another drink. “Better yet, who are you sleeping with?”

  “What?” I squinted my eyes, acting as if I was shocked by what she was saying.

  “Nope, don’t you dare, my friend. I know you as well as you know me. Don’t play stupid. You’ve been walking around here for the past two weeks with that freshly fucked grin on your face. I may be busy with work, but I’ve noticed. It’s your turn. Spill.”

  Lila read me like an open book and hiding anything from her was pointless. Biting my lower lip, I contemplated telling my best friend the truth, but before I had a chance to speak, she beat me to the punch. “Oh, God. It’s not Cole, is it?” Her petrified face matched her tone of voice.

  I had no choice but to lie. “No. God, no. I’m just not ready to talk about him yet. It’s still new, you know?” I shrugged and turned to put the ice cream back in the fridge.

  “Thank God. I mean, yeah, he’s all kinds of yummy, and what girl wouldn’t want to climb up that piece of goodness, but that would destroy your career if anyone found out.” She followed behind me. “So, who is he? Have I met him?”

  “Yep, Cole is yummy. That’s for sure. And I met him with Ben.” I avoided her eyes. I knew exactly all the kinds of yummy he was. “So, what do you want for dinner? I’m ordering.”

  * * *

  The following Monday, I sat in my small cubicle still feeling defeated. Sinking into my chair, I couldn’t help the disgruntled look on my face. I couldn’t focus on anything but Venturini v. Seymour. No matter how hard I tried to find a way to link Evan to his charges, he was squeaky clean.

  My cell phone vibrated on my desk. I hoped it was Mackenzie retur
ning my call and unlocked the screen. Instead, it was my mom, wanting to do lunch again.

  I needed to reach out to Mackenzie again, so I picked up my phone and sent her a quick message.

  Me: Hey, I just wanted to apologize again. I am so sorry about the other day.

  I waited for over twenty minutes, hoping she would reply. She never did.

  I was in a rut. The guilt I felt over what I did to Mackenzie was eating me inside. Lila was pulling a double shift this week, so she could spend the weekend with Caleb, and I was avoiding Ben because I didn’t know how much longer I could continue to lie to him about Cole. I was also ignoring Cole because if I saw him now, I knew I would turn to him for help, letting him know all the dirt I found on Evan. Professor Goldstein would never understand why I wanted to research Evan’s personal relationships. I needed to pick Cole’s brain, see what he knew about Evan, but we had decided not to discuss the case. I couldn’t see him. Ignoring him was the smart thing to do, but my body craved his touch. I wanted to see him, needed to be close to him. It wasn’t just about sex anymore. I was falling for him. And, for the first time in my life, I had met someone who I could see myself with. Someone who could love all my broken pieces.

  Deciding that I wouldn’t see or speak to Cole until I had called the other two victims, I grabbed their files from my desk drawer and picked up my office phone. It was now or never.

  The phone rang twice before she answered. “This is Nicole. How can I help you?”

  “Good morning, Nicole. My name is Katherine Wolf. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?”

  “What is this regarding?” she questioned.

  “I’m with an attorney’s office that’s representing a client on a legal case against Evan Seymour. I have a few questions for you, and I was hoping I could meet you for lunch. Please, Nicole, just hear me out.”