Jack (Secret Revenge #1)

by Robin Edwards

  As it stood, however, Adele talked back too much. Ingrid didn’t like being called out on her irritability, which was why she and Chuck would never get along. She was unhappy in this boring desk job and she wanted everyone to know it.

  It was the only thing that made it more bearable. She’d hoped that by taking this editing job she would find a sense of purpose that would keep protect her from the descent into alcohol and drug abuse that so many of her compatriots succumbed to. Theirs was not a job that left you unscarred, and the memories that war correspondents carried with them drove many of them to drink and often worse. So far, keeping her too busy to self-medicate was the only thing that the job had succeeded in doing. The sense of purpose she’d hoped for was still proving elusive.

  Halfway through the documentary Ingrid got bored. She shut it off, and went to get ready for bed. Lying under her grey and white sheets in a pair of plain cotton underwear, Ingrid crossed her arms behind her head and contemplated her ceiling. It didn’t hurt that Adele was so pretty though, she admitted. At least she would have something nicer to look at than Chuck for the next three weeks.

  Chapter 2

  The next day Ingrid arrived on time, dressed in her usual combination of black jeans and button-down shirt and worn brown leather boots. Summer was approaching and she hadn’t bothered with a jacket. Adele, waiting for her in The Chronicle’s lobby, on the other hand, was wearing a fluffy, bright green jacket that looked like it had been made from a refurbished shag carpet. It had been paired with matching green high-heeled boots and a short, gauzy, brightly-printed summer dress. Ingrid rolled her eyes skyward.

  “Can you walk in those?” she asked by way of greeting as she headed straight for the inner doors.

  “For miles,” Adele replied, grabbing her purse and trotting to catch up with Ingrid’s long strides. “Good morning to you too.”

  “Huh,” said Ingrid.

  It was Adele’s turn to roll her eyes, but she followed Ingrid to her office without further comment.

  The morning passed faster than Ingrid thought it would. Adele was a quick learner and knew just when to catch Ingrid off guard with a well-timed quip or sarcastic come back.

  Despite Ingrid’s fears that she would find Adele’s bluntness insufferable, she was relieved to find that the intern didn’t actually take Ingrid’s grumpiness personally and was quick to laugh when Ingrid admitted to her own bad behaviour.

  This was a relief because Ingrid was terrible at taking other people’s feelings into consideration and often had to deal with sulking or insulted employees. Much to her surprise, by the time the end of the day roll around, Ingrid discovered she was actually enjoying herself.

  “Do you want to grab a coffee?” she asked Adele as they were closing up for the night. Despite having clearly stated that an intern’s lot was a thankless one, Ingrid was grateful for Adele’s help – especially with the online portion of her job. Ingrid hated Twitter with a passion.

  Adele looked surprised. “Okay,” she said. “That would be lovely.”

  They went to the café across the street where most of The Chronicle’s staff ate lunch. It was bland and boring, but also cheap and filling. As they sat, sipping black coffee and mint tea respectively, the two women eyed each other, each sizing the other up.

  “Why do you want to become a reporter?” Ingrid asked at last, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.

  Adele shrugged, looking out the window at the street. “I want to help people see the world around them. The good in it, not just the bad. I know that the news is mostly war after disaster after kidnapping, but there are other things happening out there as well. I want to talk about the little things, the day-to-day things that make it all worthwhile.”

  She looked across the table at Ingrid and smiled wryly, “I’m betting you think that’s pretty dumb.”

  Ingrid didn’t bother lying. “Yeah,” she answered.

  They sat in silence for a moment. “Plus,” Ingrid said finally, “what day-to-day things are there that make it worthwhile? What do you see out there that I don’t?”

  Adele laughed. “Well, like our waitress who’s been helping that old man in the back booth with his crossword because his eyesight’s disappearing.”

  Ingrid craned her neck to see what Adele was talking about. Sure enough, their waitress was sitting next to an old man, calling him Tom as if she knew him, and quietly reading the clues out to him.

  “She just wants a good tip,” Ingrid said, shaking her head.

  “Okay,” said Adele. “If you say so.”

  Ingrid contemplated her intern. “So you what? Just want to make people happy?”

  Adele shook her head. “If I’ve learned anything from my time teaching yoga it’s that I can’t make people happy. But I can show them that they can make themselves happy, and that it’s worth the effort.”

  “You hippies,” said Ingrid, but she was smiling.

  “You cynics,” Adele replied, returning Ingrid’s grin.

  The week went on and Ingrid got used to having Adele’s happy, if sarcastic, presence around and, by the time Friday rolled around, she had even stopped sending her on mostly-unnecessary errands. It helped that Adele always made sure Ingrid knew that she knew when an errand was an excuse to get her out of the office.

  On Friday evening the women left the office together because Adele had stayed late to help Ingrid finish some paperwork. “Just think, Ingrid,” said the intern as they locked up, “only two weeks left with me. You’re a third of the way through!”

  Ingrid chuckled. “I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel,” she replied. Then, hesitantly, she put a hand on the other woman’s arm. “It’s been…nice, having you around,” she admitted.

  “‘Nice’?” Adele replied. “You really do know how to compliment a girl, Ingrid.”

  “Look, I’m…”

  “Shitty at small talk. I know. Don’t worry about it. It’s been ‘nice’ for me too,” Adele put her hand over Ingrid’s. “See you on Monday, boss!”

  “See you,” Ingrid replied as Adele headed towards the bus stop.

  Saturday was a slow day. Ingrid went for a run, caught up on her reading, emailed a few far away friends, watched an old rom-com about a bookstore, and then went out to enjoy the sunset from her apartment’s balcony with a cold beer in hand. She was bored.

  Her thoughts wandered and she found herself wondering what Adele did with her weekends. She didn’t seem the type to aimlessly drift around the house. Probably spent half her day doing yoga and chanting, Ingrid thought dismissively.

  But that got her to thinking and the next morning (purely out of curiosity, she told herself) she looked up drop-in yoga classes. There was one that afternoon at a community centre nearby where she felt reasonably sure that she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew from work. She packed a bag and went to check it out. After all, she told herself, retirement’s all about trying new things, isn’t it?

  The class was surprisingly enjoyable, even if the teacher did insist on addressing her students’ inner light too often for Ingrid’s liking. Despite her severe scepticism, Ingrid found that she did actually feel better afterward. Just maybe, she thought as she left, she would come back next week.

  “Ingrid!”

  At the sound of her name, Ingrid jumped. Turning, she saw Adele smiling at her from across the community centre lobby. “I didn’t know you came here!” Adele said when she’d joined her at the doors.

  “I don’t,” Ingrid replied. “This is my first time. I came for the drop-in yoga class. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” she admitted grudgingly.

  Adele grinned. “And? What did you think?”

  “It’s okay. It helped my lower back.”

  “It was ‘okay’, huh? Coming from you, that’s almost as good as ‘nice’,” Adele joked. “But seriously, I’m really glad you came.”

  “Well, I don’t know…” Ingrid said. “The teacher was a bit too…” I
ngrid searched for a more polite term, “spiritual for my taste.”

  Adele laughed. “Some of us can be pretty out there. But hey, if you’d like, I can teach you some basics that you can do at home. That way you don’t have to listen to anyone being spiritual – or run the risk of being caught enjoying yoga in public,” she winked.

  Ingrid looked sheepish. “That would be ni—” Ingrid caught herself mid-word. “That would be great.”

  The younger woman smiled but didn’t make a joke. “Awesome. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Ingrid!” And, with a wave, Adele pushed through the front doors and was gone.

  “Bye,” Ingrid called. When Ingrid got home she was surprised to discover that she missed her.

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday was one of Ingrid’s least favourite days of the week. The paper went to the printers that night and all the last minute details had to be sorted out before then. She thanked God that at least The Chronicle wasn’t a daily paper.

  “I have meetings until noon,” said Ingrid as she and Adele set their things down in her office. “Do you want to come to them or do you want to stay here and tweet?”

  “Meetings,” said Adele quickly. “I want to learn.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes to high,” Ingrid responded.

  “Duly noted,” said Adele. “Do you want me to take notes?”

  “Uh…” Ingrid paused, unprepared. Usually she just scrawled a few important dates and times onto whatever scrap of paper she found in her pockets.

  “Yeah. Notes would be great.”

  “Okay,” said Adele, fishing a notebook and a pencil case out of her large purse.

  It turned out that Adele was actually quite good at meetings. Instead of zoning out, she asked a lot of pertinent questions about everything from layout to how articles were assigned. She also took comprehensive and legible notes. Ingrid was so impressed - and secretly so thankful – that she offered to take Adele out to lunch when the meetings were over.

  “I’d love to,” said Adele. “Unless you’re planning on going for burgers or something.”

  Ingrid sighed. “Let me guess. You’re a vegetarian.”

  Adele said nothing but made a “keep going” motion with her hand.

  “God, not a vegan?” Ingrid looked horrified.

  Her intern giggled. “No, I’m just messing with you. I’m only a vegetarian.”

  The older woman groaned. “Thank God. Those I can deal with. How does Indian sound? There’s a place around the corner that I really like and they have all sorts of vegetarian options.”

  “Perfect,” said Adele, swinging her purse onto her shoulder.

  The restaurant had an enclosed courtyard at the back and the two women settled themselves around a slightly wobbly round metal table next to a bamboo hedge.

  “This place is really cute,” said Adele, looking around the plant-filled oasis. Above them, a square of blue sky was visible high above them, wedged between encroaching apartment buildings.

  “You sound surprised,” said Ingrid.

  “I am,” the redhead replied, perusing the menu. “I thought you’d be the kind of person who ate solely in grimy dives because they’re only kind of restaurant with ‘real’ character in this corporate, pre-fab world.”

  Ingrid thought about her other favourite restaurants and pulled a face. “Touché,” she said.

  Adele smiled at her over her menu. “Are you buying?” she asked, an impish grin forming.

  Ingrid looked at Adele’s teasing smile and felt something unexpected flutter in her chest. “Yeah,” she replied. “Order whatever you want. You’re the size of a Chihuahua, how much can you possibly eat, anyway?”

  Adele cackled and it seemed impossible that someone so cute could make such a devious noise. “Oh, dear, sweet, innocent Ingrid,” she said.

  The blonde raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first time anyone’s called me innocent in a long time.”

  Adele gave her a once over and smiled again, biting her lip in a way that was not at all innocent either. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands together so that her arms pushed up her cleavage ever so slightly. “I bet it is,” she said.

  Adele’s little performance caught Ingrid off guard and she coughed in surprise. “What are you going to order?” she asked, changing the subject and directing her eyes back to her menu.

  The intern giggled, leaning back in her chair again. “Garlic naan, palak paneer, the vegetable biryani, and a mango lassi. Oh, and chai.”

  Ingrid raised her eyebrows. “Did you not eat breakfast?”

  “Pff,” Adele replied, waving a beautifully-manicure hand dismissively. “Of course I ate breakfast. Cream cheese bagel with cucumber and a blueberry smoothie. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Ingrid. Did you eat breakfast? And coffee and a cigarette do not count.”

  Ingrid smiled in spite of herself. “What about just coffee without the cigarette?”

  Adele pretended to consider this. “Well,” she said at last, one turquoise-tipped finger tapping her chin, “it’s better than with a cigarette so I’ll give it to you. But seriously. Your body needs to be taken care of! What are you having?”

  “Butter chicken and rice.” Ingrid replied.

  “And you still haven’t eaten yet today? Okay, well, you’re going to have some of my food then. Butter chicken has, like, zero nutritional value aside from fats and proteins. We have to get some greens into you, woman!”

  “If you say so,” said Ingrid, pulling a face.

  When the waiter had come and gone with their orders, Adele contemplated her new boss. “When did you quit smoking?” she asked.

  “How do you know I smoked?” Ingrid replied.

  “Because there are pictures of you smoking your way through every war zone of the past twenty years.”

  “Right,” said Ingrid. “I keep forgetting you know who I am.”

  “Well,” Adele replied, “I wouldn’t go that far. I only met you last week. But I know what you are.”

  “And what am I?” Ingrid asked, sceptical but smiling.

  “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” Adele shot back.

  Ingrid looked at the younger woman. “I don’t want your pity,” she said.

  “Don’t worry,” Adele responded. “I don’t give out pity for self-inflicted problems. Those are your own damn fault.”

  Ingrid shrugged and nodded. “I have lung problems. A respiratory disease that’s only going to get worse. A few years ago I woke up in the middle of the night and I couldn’t breathe. It was…well, it was bad enough that I went to the doctor’s the next day. He said it was quit smoking or quit breathing.”

  “I’m impressed that you’ve stuck with it this long.”

  Ingrid smiled wanly. “I’ve snuck the odd one but so far, so good. It’s not like I really have a choice.”

  Adele shrugged. “I’m sure you know that the threat of death isn’t always taken as seriously as it should be.”

  The other woman nodded. “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “You know, I always thought you’d die on the job,” Adele said suddenly.

  “So did I,” Ingrid admitted. “But then I hit 50 and I was still alive and had a lung condition.”

  “And you decided it was time for a change?”

  “Something like that. I realised that I didn’t want to die yet.”

  “And how’s that going so far? You don’t seem like you’re enjoying living all that much.”

  “Maybe that’s because I don’t really feel like I am.”

  “And maybe that’s because you haven’t really given it a chance yet.”

  Ingrid frowned. “What do you mean? I’m gainfully employed. I own my own apartment and a nice car. I’ve stopped the drugs and the drinking and the dangerous job. Isn’t that living?”

  Adele shrugged. “It just seems to me that all you only count what you had to give up instead of looking at what you could gain.”
/>   “A desk job and a whining HR groupie?”

  “Chuck is nice,” Adele defended the absent man. “And that attitude is exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Ingrid groaned. “Yeah, yeah, my shitty attitude. I’ve heard it all before. You’re way too young to be acting like my mother, Adele.”