by Kat Catesby
Instantly the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end. Her tone is off – something between fear and urgency; it’s not a comforting sound.
“They’ve found you,” she says, getting straight to the point.
It takes a second to digest what she’s saying and then my stomach sinks like a lump of lead.
“How?” I manage to say, despite my mouth feeling like it’s full of cotton wool.
In my peripheral I see Mason turn his head sharply to look at me, alerted by my tone no doubt.
“Your name and picture are on ELM’s webpage. Didn’t you know?”
I did know – they took my staff photograph last week for my ID card and said they would use it on the webpage, but I never thought that would lead to the Foxes figuring out where we are.
“Yes, but how did they find it?” I don’t even bother trying to disguise the rising panic in my voice.
Mason takes the phone gently out of my hand and puts it on speakerphone so that he can hear what’s going on. I willingly let him; I don’t see the gesture as controlling or overbearing because if I wanted privacy, I’d walk to a different room and he wouldn’t follow me. Right this second, he’s intuitive enough to know that I’m going to need his support and he’s more rational when I start to panic; the fire department trained him well.
“It’s pretty easy to set up a Google alert for a name, Kels. A company like ELM will have great search engine optimization so if you type your name into the search bar, ELM’s webpage with your picture will be one of the top hits.”
“In English?” I understand a little of what she’s saying but webpages aren’t my forte.
“You’re easy to find. You weren’t before because your social media accounts are private, so even though they’ll pop up in a Google search, no one can see anything personal or figure out where you are. But ELM isn’t a private webpage. They are in the business of being visible to attract new clients and your name is attached to that. So now, the Foxes know that you work for ELM, which means they know you are in L.A., and by extension, they know Mason is there too.”
“Shit,” I say quietly.
“That’s the first of the bad news. The second is now they know who your employer is and they have all the contact information they need to make trouble. I overheard Mayor Stevens talking to Helen and saying he would call Ethan Lewis in the morning.”
“You overheard?” Mason asks. Pretty sure I’ve zoned out as the alarm bells ring louder and louder in my ears.
I can’t lose another career.
Why won’t they leave me alone?
“Okay, I was blatantly listening through his office door like a certified stalker, but needs must.”
“Thank you for the heads up, Lucy. We appreciate it,” Mason says.
“Is she okay?”
“Kelsey is staring off into the middle distance, looking a sort of pale white/green color. Honestly, I think she’s about to vomit.”
“If they found me through ELM’s webpage, how come they didn’t find Mason through the LAFD webpage?” my mouth is almost too dry to form words and Mason isn’t far wrong about me potentially throwing up.
“The LAFD doesn’t list their firefighters on their webpages. Short of the Foxes hiring a private investigator to find him, which I’m surprised they haven’t, he’s not visible online.”
“My parents like to think of themselves as upstanding citizens; if it ever came out that they hired a private investigator to track down their son they would be beyond humiliated and they can’t have that. What would people think?” he adds sarcastically.
“What am I going to do?” I ask Mason, Lucy, the Universe, and any cosmic power willing to listen.
“Beat Steven’s to it. Talk to Ethan Lewis. You said he was a reasonable guy and your new manager, Teddy, isn’t likely to be happy about losing a member of her team that she works so well with.”
“Lucy’s right, Kels. Just breathe and talk to Lewis in the morning.”
“Okay,”
“Keep me posted, okay?” Lucy asks.
“Sure.”
“Bye, Lucy, and thanks again,” Mason says, ending the call while I stare out the kitchen window. The sun is setting and the pinks and oranges look so pretty reflected off the few wispy clouds scattered high above the sea, but all I process is the chill of the encroaching night…or perhaps that’s just me going into shock, given that all the windows closed and the apartment isn’t cold.
Breathe…
Relax…
…yeah, right.
How the hell am I supposed to relax when Mason’s psycho ex is once again trying to ruin my life. All for the crime of being in love.
Fear suddenly burns away to anger. I refuse to spend my life like this, constantly looking over my shoulder wondering how she’s going to fuck with me next. It’s not fair and it sure as fuck isn’t healthy.
“We need to do something about her.” I all but hiss.
I’ve been hurt, I’ve been understanding, I’ve been tolerant and above all, I’ve always tried to be as respectful to her as I can because Mason had a life with her and loved her. Who am I to insult that? It’s not my place to scream and shout about what an awful person she is when once upon a time she was a pivotal part of his life.
But my tolerance and kindness are being mistaken for weakness and they are done fucking with me.
My tone tells Mason as much. He’s never really heard my unfiltered anger towards his ex…he’s about to.
This is a next-level volcanic eruption, one that’s been simmering for far too long until it has no choice but to unleash it apoplectic rage…you know, Vesuvius style.
And Helen is Pompeii.
It’s high time her specter got incinerated.
“I know,” Mason says.
“No. You don’t. You ran away and buried your head in the sand in the hope all their bullshit would go away and predictably it’s caught up with us. It would be tragically funny if I wasn’t so fucking pissed off! It’s not your life they are out to destroy; it’s mine. And I am done being patient and putting up with it. It’s my life and career and I can’t live like this. I won’t live like this. I’m not one for ultimatums, Mason. But I refuse to roll over and take their repeated attempts to ruin me. Your ex is a fucking psycho and you need to man the fuck up and do something,” I’m all but screaming in his face by the time I’m finished.
My life should be a priority to him, not hers. Not anymore.
“She’s not your wife anymore. Avoiding a confrontation with her doesn’t take precedence over my well-being. By letting her get away with what she’s putting me through, you’re saying I’m not as important as her.”
“That’s not true and you know it, Kelsey,” I can hear the sharp tone of his voice as he fights his rising anger.
I know I’m not being fair directing all of this on him, but he has to face up to his family.
“Then it’s about time you prove it. Me or her. Make your choice.”
“That’s fucking irrational because it’s not even a choice. You. Always. No contest.”
“Then protect me. I’m not some damsel who can’t fend for herself, but there’s a difference between that and fighting your battle. You and Helen aren’t my fight, yet I am constantly stuck in the crosshairs and dealing with it. You want to talk about irrational, then let’s take a look at her, shall we? She’s either evil or psychotically crazy. But importantly, she’s your problem. Take ownership and keep me out of it.”
“You’re right. I will handle it.”
“How?”
“In a little over a week, the divorce will be granted automatically. There’s nothing Helen can do about it because it was filed so long ago. Her tactic of avoidance hasn’t worked out for her. I know why she did it; she refused to sign the papers in the hopes of a reconciliation. That’s why she’s been so brutal to you. In her eyes, you are the one thing stopping her husband from coming back to her.”
“I don’t give a
shit about the why’s; how exactly does any of that help me tomorrow? It’s great that you will be divorced soon but that doesn’t stop her messing with my brand-new career in the morning. And what makes you think she’ll stop being a bitch just because the divorce is finalized?”
The muscles around Mason’s eyes tick; strained from the heat of my anger or an attempt at a poker face because he has a plan? I don’t know which. But if he has a plan, he really ought to be sharing it because it affects my life just as much as his.
“It doesn’t help you for tomorrow, but if it counts for anything, I genuinely don’t think she can say anything that will make Ethan Lewis think twice about hiring you. He’s seen your work, he knows how well you fit in with the company.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’m truly sorry. But we’ll find something else for you. L.A. is a huge city and there will be other opportunities.”
“Or you could call your family and in no uncertain terms demand that they back the fuck off?”
“It won’t work. I would, Kelsey, I promise. If I thought it would make a difference, I’d pick up the phone this second. But if I do that, they’ll know they’re getting to us and that making waves at ELM will cause issues for you. They want you gone remember? All they want is me and Helen reconciled, living as some faux-perfect family. If they think getting you fired from another job has even the slightest chance of making you leave me, they’ll take it. You’re the only thing stopping me from coming back, remember? At least, that’s how they see it. Once the divorce goes through, I can hit them where it hurts.”
“How exactly?” I hate to admit he has a point, especially as it would be satisfying as fuck to hear him yelling at his parents and Helen down the phone.
“By living my life with you.”
“And that will make them leave us alone because?”
“My parents won’t want to leave us alone, that’s the point. They want me settled down, with a family, living up to their expectations…and they want to be a part of that. They aren’t going to harass my new wife when they want to be grandparents. You are the future mother of my children – whatever way we manage to have them – and it does them no favors to be estranged from their son and his family. That’s my ultimatum to them: if they want to be part of my life and their future grandkids, they have to make serious amends and cut all contact with Helen.”
“There’s some logic to that. But what about Helen? How can you make sure she’ll leave us alone?”
“My lawyer submitted a fairly standard divorce settlement that she hasn’t argued because of her short-sighted belief that she could get me back. Our marriage didn’t result in children so there’s no alimony to pay her; she leaves with what she brought to the marriage and half of what we’ve accumulated together as a couple. It’s not enough to keep the house. She’s been living off the Fox trust fund but as soon as the divorce goes through, she won’t have access to it. She will have to sell the house and get a job.”
“That’s great, but doesn’t answer my question,” I interrupt.
He shoots me a raised eyebrow look, pulls me towards him, and cups my face with his large, warm hands.
“It would if you let me finish, Baby Girl, you’ll get the answer. I’ve kept a record of everything she’s done, with evidence. If she doesn’t back off, I’ll seek a restraining order. That would seriously limit her job prospects, not to mention her social standing. She cares more about herself and how people see her than she does about pursuing a vendetta against you, trust me. And with my parent’s desire to be a part of my life, they’ll be obligated to side with me. Helen won’t fight them because she’ll lose.”
“Again, there’s some logic there,” I reluctantly admit.
“You sound surprised? Did you honestly believe I hadn’t been thinking this through a million different ways? Yes, I have to face them, but once the divorce is finalized, I hold all the cards.”
“So we just have to sit tight for another week and we’ll be free?”
“Exactly,” he kisses my forehead gently. I relax a little, but not completely as I still have to face Ethan in the morning and whatever fallout his conversation with the Foxes will bring.
* * *
I wake after a fitful night’s sleep, unrested and unable to eat breakfast. Mason does his best to comfort me but there’s no cure until I’m on the other side of whatever this morning brings.
It’s like waiting to take a test; anxious energy, wanting to vomit, knowing there’s nothing you can do to avoid it, and terrifyingly aware of how failing will impact your life.
I arrive at the office early, eager to get the showdown over with and hoping to catch Ethan before the Foxes do.
Teddy finds me pacing back and forth in the office kitchen, making no attempt to make coffee or conceal the fact I’m staring at Ethan’s closed office door. He hasn’t drawn the blinds so I can see him sat at his desk, back to the rest of the office, phone gripped tightly to his ear.
I know he’s speaking to Helen and the pit of despair beneath my feet opens a little wider.
Give me a break, Universe.
Beating them to Ethan was my only plan. Perhaps if he’d heard my side of the story first, I wouldn’t lose my job. But that hope fled the scene as soon as the call was put through, which was about a second after I stepped off the elevator.
I suppose at least I can stop worrying that Helen and his parents are going to suddenly appear at my desk and call me a slut in front of my new co-workers…I’m not going to pretend that wasn’t a nightmare that woke me up a dozen times last night.
“You okay?” Teddy asks. Her tone is sincere and her eyes are reassuring.
“Not in the slightest,” I answer, then give her the bullet point version of my saga with the Foxes.
“Wow. That’s fucked up. And you’re still with Mason? You are aware that when you marry a man, you marry his family too?”
“Thanks for that, Ted. I am aware and he has a plan. I think it will be okay in the end. So the only thing I’m worried about is losing my job.”
“You have more faith in your man than I’ve ever had. But perhaps that’s why I’m single. They’re either all assholes or I have trust issues,” she laughs gently. It’s a warm and calming sound. “And I won’t let Ethan fire you, not that I believe he would anyway. I have more clout in this place than I let on and Ethan isn’t one to have his opinions swayed by hearsay. He trusts what he sees with his own eyes.”
“Kelsey, can you come here for a minute?” Ethan’s voice calls out and a little bit of vomit escapes from my stomach and makes its way into my mouth. I swallow down the bitter, acidic taste and pray to the somewhat unreasonable universe that Teddy is right.
“Of course, I say as I make my way into his office.”
“Close the door behind you, please.”
Déjà vu hits me hard and I awkwardly take a seat in front of Ethan’s desk, gripping the arms of the chair with white-knuckle force.
“You look like you know what this is about,” he says calmly.
“If that was Helen Fox then yes, I know what this is about.”
“Actually, it was a conference call involving her and your boyfriend’s parents. Gotta say that’s an interesting way to start my morning.”
“I’m so sorry –”
“I’m going to stop you there, Kelsey.” Oh god, here it comes. “Don’t you dare apologize. If skeletons from your personal life were pertinent to your job, I’d have asked you about it in your interview. The only time someone’s private life is my business is when they pay me to manage their image or make scandals disappear. I can read between the lines enough to recognize an ex with a vendetta when I see one…or have one yelling down the phone at me. I have to say, her faux hysterics were quite something.”
“So…you’re not going to fire me?”
“Why on earth would I fire you?”
“Because they’ve told you I’m a heartless husband stealing harpy who l
ost her job for breaking a so-called morality clause and they will divulge this information to your clients and it will tarnish the name of your company?” my voice goes up on a squeak at the end.
“Kelsey, I’ve successfully played down some pretty big scandals for clients over the years. If you stole Helen Fox’s husband, which I don’t believe you did, that’s hardly a scandal that would cause me to lose sleep. It damages me or my company in no way and as my employee, I wouldn’t let such an accusation damage you. If they want to go to war over it, I’m sure they’ll find me a far uglier opponent. I know where to look for buried skeletons and I know how to create a story just as easily as I know how to make one disappear. I like to think I use my powers for good,” he winks at me, “but if they want a fight, I’m on your side. Now, get back to work. You have a tonne of stuff to sort out before you and Teddy accompany Greyson Holt to Las Vegas.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mason
“Have you finished packing?” I call to Kelsey, conscious of the minutes ticking by before we need to be at the airport.
Kelsey and Teddy need to accompany Greyson Holt to a pre-Olympic PR event in Las Vegas and Kelsey and I are flying out a few days early to spend the weekend together.
“Yes,” she says as she wheels her suitcase towards the front door. “You ready?” Kelsey tries to hide her apprehension, but I can hear it.
She’s not nervous about her work; my parents and Helen will be there.
The PR event isn’t a secret and they made it known that they were going to be there, and thanks to Lucy and her habit for eavesdropping, we got a decent head’s up. I took the plunge and called my parents to arrange a meeting to avoid them ambushing us or worse, having them sabotage any of Kelsey’s work events.
I have to admit, the timing works perfectly because as of midnight last night, I am a free man: Helen is no longer Mrs. Fox. She can keep the surname if she wants, but she’s no longer my wife.
We’ve been counting down the minutes since our argument a few weeks ago, yet we’ve not had much time to sit down and discuss how we feel now the divorce is finalized.
