I checked my phone. “Yes, it’s ready to be sent.”
“Good. I’ll have you send it at the same time you hand it in to HR. That will prevent anyone from claiming you didn’t submit a resignation. You put a CC to everyone who has managed your employment at the firm?”
“Yes. It’s a lot of people, though.”
“Well, there’s going to be no chance of them realistically hiding it with so much evidence, especially if any of them are out of the office. I believe you said a few were?”
I nodded. “The auto-replies will show they received the email.”
“Exactly. If they try to talk you into staying, do not accept their offer, no matter how tempting it might look on the surface. Even if they double your salary, it’s a bad deal for you, especially with their lack of regard for your health and time.” Julian’s father waited at the door for us to grab our coats before stepping out into the snow.
At least six inches had fallen overnight, but someone had shoveled the walkway. I eyed the ground, wrinkled my nose, and picked my way to the waiting SUV. Julian beat me to the vehicle, opening the back door for me before circling the vehicle to sit with me rather than taking the front to be with his father.
“There is some important information you need to know, Dad,” Julian announced.
“If it involves a baseball bat, the answer is no.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
“The answer is still no.”
I laughed and buckled in. “You can go ahead and warn him of my plans, but it won’t save you, Julian.”
“Wait. I wanted to be saved? This was not what we discussed.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking. “There was a discussion? Well, you just kept telling me it depended.”
“One day, I will learn to just say yes or no. I keep telling myself not to say that as an answer, but I open my mouth, and that’s what I say. In this case, it worked in my favor. It usually doesn’t.”
“All right. As long as it doesn’t involve a baseball bat, I’ll humor you. What is going on, Julian?”
“I don’t think Chloe understands that New York has a three-day waiting period for any of her attempts of coercion to be legalized, and she’s a little unclear on what constitutes as a kidnapping.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I invited Chloe to move in so she can stay in New York while looking for a new job. She, being a stubborn, proud woman, wanted to know how much her rent would be. Before I could come up with a suitable response, she began discussing kidnapping and coercion.”
“Coercion into doing what?”
“Marriage.”
I clamped my lips together, looked out the window, and swore I wouldn’t laugh.
“I’m confused on how negotiating on rent evolved to kidnapping and coercion into marriage,” his father admitted. “I’m also confused about why I’m being brought into this. I’m not a criminal law attorney. That’s your gig. If you think I’m going to help you, you’re wrong. You got yourself into that mess, you can get yourself out of it. You’re an adult.”
Julian sighed. “Dad, I wasn’t asking for your help.”
“Then what do you want?”
“For you to not call the police if I disappear for several days and return home married?”
I needed to have a talk with Julian and explain why marrying someone he didn’t know wasn’t a wise idea. Then again, if he wanted to abandon his common sense along with me, I could work with that. We could use intense games of Scrabble as a form of couple’s therapy.
“Ah, I see. You don’t want law enforcement to interfere with your securing someone to play games with you on a permanent basis. Try to return him in comparable condition, Chloe.”
“How much do you think it costs to kidnap someone?”
“It depends. Are you participating in some grand theft auto during your kidnapping? Will you count the marriage license as an expense? Do you have to pay for the actual wedding ceremony or the court fees for finalizing your marriage?”
Marriage cost a lot more than I anticipated. “I thought attorneys weren’t supposed to answer with ‘it depends.’”
“It benefits me this time.” Julian’s father eased his SUV out of the driveway and headed towards my work. “Mostly, I just want him returned in comparable condition. His mother will probably want a proper wedding at some point. Fashion designers get sensitive about that sort of thing.”
“Wait. Does that mean I don’t have to worry about shopping for a wedding dress?”
“That is one of the benefits of marrying the son of a fashion designer. If he thinks he can get out of wearing one of his mother’s suits, he’s incorrect.”
Julian snorted. “If she’s kidnapping and coercing, there won’t be an actual wedding, Dad.”
“You poor, deluded child. Where did I go wrong with you, that you would be so convinced a mere kidnapping and coercion would free you from your wedding ceremony obligations? We’re discussing your mother here. There’ll be a wedding. The only thing in question is if you’re a willing participant.”
“I can’t afford a wedding ceremony, and I’m going to be pushing my luck paying for the license and that court thing. Courts are expensive. There’s a reason I hadn’t hired an attorney.”
“If you’re going for a count of kidnapping anyway, demand he place all charges you can’t readily afford on his card. He can afford the fees, and I’m sure he’d be willing enough to pay it if it means he can come home each night to someone who’ll play any form of game with him in the evenings without having to whine to his mother and father for a gaming fix.”
I laughed. “There are entire clubs dedicated to games like Scrabble. He could join one of those!”
“He likes variety, but I suspect he’ll suffer for a chance to have someone who’ll play with him all the time. He’s been spoiled the past few days.”
I had a hard time with the idea that Julian was spoiled, although he did spoil himself in the game acquisition department. “He’s spoiled? Don’t you mean escorted towards bankruptcy? He took me to a restaurant on Fifth Avenue, then he goaded me into ordering whatever I wanted.”
“I owe her another visit to the restaurant, too. Her leftovers have been sitting unattended in her refrigerator.”
“So make a reservation and pay for your crimes. I taught you better than that.”
“My mother gets very irritable if she doesn’t eat. Dad is in charge of making sure she doesn’t forget to eat. There’s actually an employee at her company who has one job, and that’s to make sure my mother doesn’t forget she’s a human with physical requirements for survival.”
“What does that job entail?”
Julian snickered. “Bringing drinks, arranging lunch, and making sure my mother doesn’t forget any medications if she’s on anything. When she’s not doing that, she does secretarial work. Once Mom starts working, she forgets how life works.”
“I forgot to eat dinner last night, but Julian made breakfast.”
“He mentioned you ran for the kitchen the instant the word bacon left his mouth. Bacon is a genetic defect in our family.” Julian’s father took his time on the roads, and when the snow started to fall in heavy, wet chunks, he muttered curses. “I’m now glad I insisted we leave early.”
“By genetic defect, he means we’ll make it whenever we have an excuse,” Julian explained.
When honest with myself, I didn’t eat a lot of bacon due to its expense. Other foods were more filling and a lot cheaper. “I’m not really picky, and it’s okay if we don’t go back to that restaurant right away.”
“I’m spoiled and like that restaurant. I’ll shamelessly use you as an excuse to go back again. Don’t think this is all about you, Chloe. This is definitely all about me, you just benefit from my selfishness.”
“You’re a strange, strange man.”
“That didn’t take you long to figure out. Are you sure you really want to kidnap him, Chloe? There are no re
funds or exchanges following purchase.”
“Wait. He’s available for sale? How much? A standard purchase seems easier than planning a kidnapping.”
Julian sighed. “Did I not feed you enough breakfast this morning? Is this why you’re joining forces with my father?”
“Those are unrelated. Shh. I’m on a quest for free rent. I’m absolutely positive free rent is a part of the spousal agreement. I’m sure there are some downsides, but I have to focus on what’s important here.”
“The ability to share space with the person you’re marrying is important, as is the ability to work together and generally cooperate regarding household matters,” Julian countered.
“Well, shit. It’s not just free rent?”
“I’m afraid not. You’ll have to help me play through my collection of games, although despite my father’s teasing, it need not be daily. I have plenty of single-player games to work through for the days you’re not interested in playing something. I wasn’t kidding about the inability to make cookies due to eating the batter. I dislike fighting. That’s something I do in court often enough, so I’d rather not do that at home. Obviously, we’ll disagree, but I prefer disagreements to be civil.”
“He hates yelling, screaming, and crying,” Julian’s father said. “I tried to warn him that criminal law often involved a lot of all three, but he didn’t listen to me.”
“I will scream and yell whenever a cabbie tries to run me over. It’s a rule.”
“I’d scream and yell, too,” Julian confessed.
“So, that’s settled. No screaming or yelling. He’ll probably suggest you resolve your differences through a winner-takes-all game.”
“Anything else I should consider before I plan a kidnapping?”
“I sleep in the nude,” Julian announced.
Screw the other categories. Only immediate marriage would do. “When do you get off work, what time does the court house close to pick up a license, and can someone take me to my apartment? I’m going to need my birth certificate, passport, or whatever else is required to coerce someone into marriage.”
Julian’s father snickered.
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned,” Julian admitted.
I smiled. “Both.”
A team of police officers examined the reception area of the firm, and it was a good thing I intended to resign, as there was no way I’d be getting near the desk.
“You’ll need to be fingerprinted,” Julian whispered in my ear, and he pointed at an older man observing the activities. “That man is the attorney my father asked to witness. Don’t worry about introductions. His name is Mr. Loyends, and you’ll be introduced later. During the course of the investigation, expect to be questioned by the police. I’ll want to be present, as I will use everything I can to help support your case with the Department of Labor and any criminal charges that might be pressed against the firm if needed. Mostly, your prints are all over the desk, and the police will want to eliminate your fingerprints as a suspect’s; you weren’t present at the office at the time of the assault. It’ll be simple enough to establish your alibi, especially if you have a MetroCard. They track when it’s swiped.”
“Yes, I used my MetroCard.”
“Good. That’ll help. They’ll probably subpoena for the security tapes in the lobby to confirm your arrival at work, too. Don’t worry if you’re questioned, and if you need help, just ask me.”
I foresaw my heart rate skyrocketing until I escaped the firm for the last time.
In good news, Mr. Whiteman spoke with the police nearby, and I’d have a lot of witnesses when I handed in my resignation and informed him I was quitting. I lifted my chin, strode across the reception, and wielded the sealed letter like the potent weapon it was, one that’d free me in more ways than one. “Mr. Whiteman?”
“I’m busy,” he snapped. “If you value your job, wait until I’m finished. I do not have time for you right now.”
Well, if I needed witnesses for my submission of my resignation, I had a bunch of curious cops watching. “I quit, Mr. Whiteman. I refuse to work seventeen hours a day five days a week in addition to a full shift on Saturdays. Here is my resignation letter, effective immediately. You will need to find someone a lot stupider than me to continue working at this place. In the letter, you will find the demands for the settlement regarding my owed wages before my attorney takes it to the Department of Labor.”
Mr. Whiteman stilled, and red splotched his cheeks. “What did you just say to me?”
I held out the letter. “Everything I said is written in this letter. As your firm didn’t see fit to pay me any of my owed overtime in excess of five months, I see no need to justify anything to you. You were emailed when I contacted HR about my unpaid wages. This should not be a surprise to you.”
When Mr. Whiteman refused to take the letter, I slipped it into his suit, careful not to touch him with anything other than the envelope. Releasing my resignation letter, I pulled out my phone, opened my email app, and sent the drafted email.
My phone pinged to confirm the message had been sent.
In retrospect, I should’ve paid more attention to Mr. Whiteman and less attention to ensuring my resignation letter reached as many people as possible. His hand cracked into mine and sent my phone flying. It hit the wall with a crack and dropped to the floor.
“How dare you, you ungrateful bitch!”
Hopping on one foot, I grabbed my stiletto by the heel and yanked it off. The instant Mr. Whiteman raised his hand to me, I firmed my grip on my shoe and smacked his blow away, hitting him as hard as I could to make certain he didn’t strike me again.
Julian’s arm snaked around my waist, and he jerked me back. I lost my balance, my back thumping against his chest. The police came between us.
“Offer of representation accepted,” I announced, shaking from fury. “He broke my phone! Let me go. I need to introduce him to my shoe.”
“You smacked his hand once. You did hit him with your shoe. Requirement met. One hit with your shoe to keep him from hitting you is self-defense. Any more than that might classify as assault.”
Julian’s father sighed, and he shook his head. “While I commend your tactic on forcing him to accept your letter of resignation, next time, stay out of reach of the mentally unstable. Only the mentally unstable would assault a resigning employee in front of the police. Also, we’ll talk about expanding your case to include discrimination and an abusive work environment.”
“At a firm in the middle of an investigation on an assault of a different employee,” Julian added.
“Can we leave?”
“Keep dreaming, Chloe. None of us get to leave until the police decide we’re not needed, so you may as well settle in to wait. If it’s any consolation, Dad and Mr. Loyends don’t get to leave, either.”
“Is now a bad time to admit I just want to go back to bed?”
Julian sighed and loosened his hold on me. “Me, too. Also, remind me never to make you angry enough that you want to hit me with your shoe. That looked like it hurt, and I seriously thought you were going to tenderize his face.”
“It’s probably a good thing you stopped me,” I admitted in a whisper. “I was going to.”
“I don’t care how much bail I’ll have to pay or how expensive the trial runs, but if anyone tries to hit you again, don’t screw around. Go straight for the face.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be encouraging me to use violence to solve problems, Julian.”
“I’m not a nice person sometimes. Anyway, I’ve had my fill of scares for today.”
“Me, too.”
Despite working at a legal firm, I’d never been to a police station before. Julian and his father stayed close, making it clear no one would be questioning me without them present. Mr. Loyends handled making most of the necessary phone calls. When Julian needed to notify his firm he was at the police station for interviews and questioning due to an attempted but in
terrupted assault, Mr. Loyends took his place.
While I didn’t think I needed a babysitter, no one agreed with me.
The first questioning session went well enough—or so I thought. The cops asking the questions didn’t grill me any worse than one of the attorneys, they didn’t ask any questions that made Julian or his father object or tell me I couldn’t answer, and I got a chance to vent about my job from hell.
Freedom felt wonderful, and once I decided how to handle Julian and his offer, I might even allow myself a whole week to enjoy freedom before job searching. Then again, I’d probably call the headhunter right away but beg for a week to enjoy freedom before interviews unless a really good job came calling.
Julian’s offer to move in with him would bother me until I made a decision either way. We’d joked about marriage, something I hadn’t really put much thought into. While I indulged in impulsive acts often enough, marriage went beyond anything else I’d considered doing on a whim.
With my inability to sustain romantic relationships, I classified as a train wreck waiting to happen. With work, I could make friendships thrive, although they came few and far between. Romance was beyond me.
Maybe if I treated Julian like a friend I couldn’t get rid of, hopefully with some benefits, we could make it work.
He distracted me from worrying about everything in the lulls between filling out forms, answering questions, and otherwise wasting most of the morning. Lunch rolled around, and to my relief, the police said we could leave.
Shortly before we were allowed to leave, the start of a bruise formed on my hand where I’d been struck, which resulted in another lost half an hour as they documented the injury, not that I considered it much of one.
Once I was allowed to leave, I bolted for the door but only made it a few steps before Julian snagged me around the waist and brought me to a halt. “Julian!”
“You’ll snap an ankle or break those heels if you try to run in those.”
“I’m hungry, and there’s a McDonald’s down the street. I need food. I need food now.”
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