Claire knew she was about to cry—not from upset, but from rage—and she struggled to reign in her tears. It wouldn’t do to show Nick weakness right now. “If you are going to fire me, Nick, go for it. I can’t stand you, and I can’t stand working for you. I don’t even need to tell you how wrong you are, but I will, anyway. Satish would not do anything close to what you are suggesting. You are just jealous that he is a man with morals and values when you have neither.”
Nick chuckled, “Oh, don’t worry, Claire, I’m not going to fire you. How could I justify firing such a superstar?” He lifted the BRD from his desk with one hand and waved it in front of her.
“As far as your man, Satish, is concerned, I hear from Nadia that he's got a pretty little wife back in India—doesn’t sound much like morals and values to me. Having an adulterous affair with a trumped up secretary? No, Claire, I’m not going to fire you. You are about to give me your notice, effective immediately.”
Her angry tears betrayed her and spilled down her cheeks, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “Why would I quit? You’re stuck, Nick. You can’t fire me, because if you did, I would march straight down to HR and explain how you sexually assaulted me. I think they would be interested in that, don’t you? You’re a pig. I can ruin your career, and you know it.”
Nick opened a drawer in his desk, dropped the BRD inside, and slammed it shut.“Here are the facts, little girl,” he hissed. “You got in an elevator with me, got off on your floor, and we didn’t see each other again on that trip. Nothing happened in that elevator—no one saw a thing out of the ordinary.”
He stood and leaned over his desk toward Claire. He was pissed, and it made her take a step backward. “Here are the rest of the facts. I have proof that you and Satish extended your trip on the company dime. I have witnesses willing to come forward and testify that you two are a couple. I have proof that he's married—don’t you think Nadia was smart enough to copy that letter after she steamed it open? I don’t think Telco would look too kindly on funding an adulterous affair, do you? Any story that you and lover boy tell about me will just sound like a desperate defense. The facts are that you don’t have a leg to stand on, and if you choose to take that path, your career will be over and so will the stellar, mind-blowing career of your beloved Satish.”
He sat back down in his chair. His face was red and puffy, and he had a row of sweat beads on his upper lip. He was ugly in every way.
“I accept your resignation, Claire. Have a letter on my desk with the next fifteen minutes, or you’ll be walking out of here with a security escort.”
“Claire, we can do something about this,” Maureen said, her face flushed and her hands flying. She had been shouting non-stop since her arrival twenty minutes ago. Claire just burrowed deeper under her covers and shook her head.
She had left the office in a state of total shock, gone straight to her apartment, and climbed into her nest of a bed. She had lost Satish and her job, and she had no money and no life. It wouldn’t be long before she’d have to call her dad to ask for help with her share of the rent, and she dreaded that. Getting another job was going to be next to impossible, because not only did the economy suck, but now she had an unexplained resignation to deal with. Everything sucked, and she wasn’t getting out of bed.
An angry Maureen tore off her protective covers and towered over her. She was honestly a little frightening. “Get out of bed, Claire! I just stayed awake for the last forty-eight hours to finish that damn BRD, so Nick wouldn’t be able to fire you! I’m sick of it! I am sick of laboring in the background with the men getting all the credit. I am sick of being afraid that someone might find out I had an affair with Nick after he manipulated and abused me. I am sick of them all, and I want it to end! I want you to get recognized for the work you have done, and I want the job I deserve! Phil said he can help me, but I can’t do it with Nick in the way. I want him gone, Claire, and I know you do, too. I can’t do it without you—they won’t take it seriously if it’s just me. You have to come with me and report this whole thing. Nick is a dick and he deserves what’s coming to him.”Maureen shoved her hands on her hips and glared down at Claire.
“I’m sorry, Maureen, but I just can’t do it!” Claire sniffled. “It’s all pointless. Getting Nick fired isn’t going to change anything. Satish will still be married, and I still won’t have a job. I just want to forget that these last six months ever happened.” She reached for the box of tissues on her bedside cabinet and placed them gently in the middle of a huge pile of crumpled ones covering her bed.
Maureen snatched up the box and leaned over Claire in a menacing manner. “You will stop crying, Claire. We will stop feeling sorry for ourselves and we will take action. It may not change anything for you, but think of the future yous—think of all the girls yet to nervously knock on Nick’s door and face his pigginess. We have to do something about Nick, so he can’t do it again. I need you, Claire—I can’t do it without you. Please.”
She snatched her box of tissues back. “I love you Maureen, but I can’t do it. I’m not getting—”
Claire’s words were snatched out of her mouth when Sally came flying into the room with a huge smile spread across her face. She didn’t even notice Maureen and Claire in the midst of their escalating tissue box battle, but she yelled out, “I’m in love!” and jumped up on the bed, knocking the tissues from her roommate’s hands.
Sally jumped up and down a few times with joyful enthusiasm, laughing, before she took in the scene before her. The jumping petered out slowly, and her smile disappeared. “What?” she asked, looking between the two as if she were watching a tennis match.
Claire grasped furtively for her tissue box and angrily re-arranged the nest of pillows that Sally had dislodged. “Where have you been?” she asked. “I came out of Nick’s office and you were gone! I needed you!”
Sally turned to Maureen, who just shook her head and shrugged. “Tod came with flowers,” Sally said plainly, as if that explained everything. “What’s going on?”
“Nick made me resign, Sally. He told me that he would tell everyone about my inappropriate relationship with Satish and that both of us would get fired.”
Sally threw open the covers and slid under with Claire, reaching out for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Claire,“ she said. “He is awful. What are you going to do?”
“She’s doing nothing, Sally, that’s what!” Maureen sat hard on the bed. “She’s doing nothing when she should be screaming her head off and making noise.”
Claire blew her nose loudly. “What are you so happy about, anyway?” she grumbled at her roommate.
Sally held out her left hand and the ring sparkled, caught in the last rays of sun creeping through Claire’s closed curtains. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m moving out?”
Claire stared at the ring and looked dumbly at Sally. Surely she was kidding? She dropped her head into the pile of snotty tissues, trying to quell a sudden overwhelming burst of anger. Fear and sadness rushed in behind it, and she was about to take it out on Sally. She was leaving her? Seriously? Now? Claire turned her head slowly toward her roommate, like that little girl from the exorcist, and it spilled out—all of it.
“I can’t believe you, Sally. I just can’t believe what you are telling me. In the last week I, have had my best work stolen from me by a lecherous boss who then accosted me in an elevator and stuck his tongue down my throat. I have fallen madly, head-over-heels in love with a guy who gives me the most amazing kiss I have ever had in my life, only to find out, after he leaves me to fly halfway across the world, that he's married. I then come home to find out that everyone knows about my ‘affair,’ and I get fired from my job.” Claire stopped to take a deep breath, and Sally slid from under the covers to stand on the floor. She could tell her friend was on the edge of tears, but she couldn’t stop. “So, is this a bad time to tell me that you have just gotten engaged and you’re moving out, leaving me with an apartment you know I can’t afford
on my own, even if I did have a job? Yes, it’s a bad time. It’s a shitty, horrible, awful time, okay?”
The room fell completely silent. Tears fell down Sally’s face, and Maureen looked shocked and slightly disgusted. Claire was breathing hard and her heart was pounding, but she was right! She knew she was right! What kind of friend was Sally? All she ever did was think about herself. She was completely self-involved, and Claire would be thankful to be rid of her. She wanted to move out? Fine! She would go and live on her own somewhere and never speak to anyone about anything ever again.
Sally sniffled as she wiped the back of her forearm across her nose. “Thanks, Claire,” she whispered. “Thanks a lot for your love, support, and enthusiasm. You were the person I was most excited about telling, even before my mom. You were the person I knew would understand.” Sally turned and left. Claire’s bedroom door clicked softly shut behind her.
She looked at Maureen, who averted her eyes. She wasn’t sorry—she was right. She didn’t feel angry, anymore, though; just empty.
“Okay,” said Maureen, picking up her bag from the floor. “I’m gonna go, too.” Claire didn’t look up as the door clicked shut a second time.
“Thanks, dad,” Claire said, as he handed her the fifth cup of tea she had drunk that day. He was of the belief that tea could fix everything, and since he couldn’t actually make anything else, it was his go-to when he felt hopeless.
He hovered in the door while Claire switched the channel again. She was alternating between House Hunters International and Chopped. She imagined escaping to an open-plan home with a gourmet kitchen and a swimming pool with a sea view in Costa Rica. She also enjoyed the thought of certain parts of Nick’s body lying on the chopping block of one of those chefs—perhaps he could be one of the mystery ingredients. Dick a l’orange. She felt her dad staring, sighed, and put down the remote. She wasn’t going to turn it off, though—she wanted to know whether the wife could get the husband to settle for the larger and well-priced jungle villa instead of the tiny apartment on the ocean.
“Claire, you know I love having you.” Here comes the “but,” Claire thought. Fire away. “Well, it’s just that you haven’t come out of your room for two days,” he gestured desperately and hopelessly at the TV, “and you haven’t turned that off. The worst part is that I know you’ve seen that one before; of course she gets the jungle house!”
Claire looked at her lovely, loving dad and felt awful. Why was she taking this out on him? He had been fussing over her since she’d dumped herself on his doorstep two days ago. She had given notice to her landlord, but hadn’t been able to face doing anything else. She knew she would have to do something about her limited furniture and collect and store her sewing machine, but she couldn’t face it. No, she needed to be home with her dad.
Now, she realized how selfish she was being. He had been trying to talk to her—trying to help her—and she had told him the absolute minimum. She said she’d had trouble with one of the managers at work and he had fired her. Her dad had asked for more detail, but she knew, if she told him more, she’d have to talk about it, and she couldn’t bear the thought. He had asked repeatedly about Sally, and she’d told him that she’d moved out, but not about her engagement or the big fight.
“How about you let me take you out to Witherspoon’s for a nice dinner?” her dad asked. “We could even go to Thomas Sweet afterward. Sweet cream ice cream with Mystic Mints blended in?” He always remembered her favorites.
“Thanks, Dad, but I think I just want to stay in,” Claire said. “Thanks for the tea, though—it’s helping.”
He pushed the door open some more and stepped into her room. “Sally has been calling, hon. She said your phone is off.”
Claire glanced at her cell phone sitting on her bedside cabinet. The morning she had retrieved it from under the couch cushions where she had stuffed it in an effort to avoid Satish’s calls seemed like an age ago. It was out of battery life; she had meant to recharge it for work, but once she’d gotten fired, it seemed pointless. She knew that, if Satish called, she would just want to answer it. She wanted so badly to hear his voice and have him help her deal with the horrible events over the last few weeks. She found it so ironic that he was the cause of her greatest heartbreak, yet he was the only one she wanted to speak to about it. Over the past month, they had never gone more than twenty-four hours without talking. She was sure that the physical symptoms of drug withdrawal couldn’t feel any worse than this.
“I can’t speak to her, dad.” Claire started to cry. The tears came out of nowhere, but they weren’t a surprise. She had been crying all the time—sometimes without even noticing. She had been crying at the commercials, every time someone got chopped, and even when the “house of Tammy’s dreams” was $15,000 over their budget.
“Speak to me, then, honey, please?” Her dad looked drawn and worried.
She picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “You might not like it.” Claire bit the inside of her lip and looked at him, requesting permission and forgiveness before she even started her sordid story. Her dad sat on the bed and held her hand. “Tell me,” he said, and she did.
She told him everything.
The day after Claire had unburdened herself to her dad, she was sitting in her room, sewing.
Yesterday, he had listened quietly, nodded encouragingly at the tough spots, mmhmmed his way through the really tough spots, and then gone completely silent. Not like, thoughtfully silent, but completely silent. She had sat on her bed, waiting for him to say something—anything—but he’d just sat there, contemplating like Buddha. Claire knew her dad was logical, practical, and reasonable, so if he wasn’t saying anything, it meant that he had nothing to say. He’d looked like he was stewing, but what was he stewing about? Was he mad at Nick for what he did? Was he mad at Satish for what he did? Was he mad at Sally for abandoning her in her hour of need?
“Dad?” she had asked, putting her hand on his arm.
“Can I have your keys, Claire?”
“My keys? To my apartment? Sure, but why?”
He’d stood and brushed imaginary dust off his perfectly-pressed and spotless trousers. “I’m going to pick up your sewing machine. Your mind is going to rot if you keep watching this junk.”
Claire had handed him her keys and he’d left. When he’d come back an hour later, he’d hauled her machine and a bag of her work and set it up in her bedroom. He had smiled at her when he’d turned, but then left the room without a word.
This morning, when Claire had gone down for breakfast, her dad hadn’t been there. She had grabbed a banana and a cup of coffee and gone back up to her room with her fingers itching. She’d been looking forward to a day of losing herself in her sewing.
She had been happily sewing along for about an hour when the door flew open and her dad stormed in. He pushed piles of fabric aside and sat down on her messy bed. “Okay, I am just going to say this, Claire. I hoped never to have to say this to you, but here goes,” he stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m disappointed in you.”
Claire looked at him, stunned.
“Why?” She asked.
“Well, I sat here yesterday and I listened to your story, and yes, it is all very unfortunate. You have had to deal with some people of questionable moral values and you have had to face the consequences of some bad decisions. Through every problem you have had since you were eleven years old, however, there has always been one person standing next to you holding you up.”
He stopped. Claire hated disappointing her dad, and her heart had sped up in her chest. She didn’t know where he was going with this. Why was he so obviously angry?
“I spoke to Sally this morning,” he continued. “She’s a wreck. Honestly, the way you treated her is inexcusable. All she has ever done is support you. Yes, she is a little… what’s the word her mom used? Flaky? Okay, she’s a little flaky, but her heart is always in the right place. Do you even know what happened on the day you got fired?”
She shook her head, but felt indignant, defensive anger surge inside of her. The only thing Sally cared about on the day her life had come crashing down—the day Claire needed her the most—was her boyfriend. She was selfish and self-involved, and she didn’t plan on speaking to her ever again.
“Sally resigned, as well. She got in to a huge argument with another employee—some Anne someone. Apparently this Anne had just been offered your job, so she knew that your boss would fire you. Sally lost her temper and quit in solidarity with you. After she had realized what she had done, she’d called her boyfriend, absolutely devastated. She had lost her income, disappointed her mom, and now both of you would be in deep financial trouble. This Tod, who sounds like quite a decent and responsible young man, came to collect Sally from your work. He came with a plan—and a ring.”
Claire’s conflicting thoughts began to wage an epic battle in her head. Sally had quit for her? She picked at the thread in the scarf in front her and said meekly, "Well that was a dumb thing to do, knowing we have to pay rent."
“I’m disappointed in you, Claire.” Her dad said it again, and this time it stabbed, because she knew she deserved it. “Sally came to you to share something beautiful with you. Finding the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life and learning that the other person thinks the same is one of the most amazing moments you will experience. I knew that from the moment I met your mom. Sally chose to share that moment with you first; out of all the people in the world, she chose you, and all you could think about was yourself.”
She started to cry again. She thought about Sally’s meeting story theory and realized what she had done: she had ruined Sally's story. Now, every time she told it and reached the climax, she would remember Claire’s behavior. She now realized it had not been the behavior of a best friend. So, her story with Satish didn’t turn out the way they had both imagined, but she should not—could not—interfere with the joy and happiness of her best friend. Her dad was right: Sally was total flake, but she had been with her through thick and thin.
Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1) Page 17
