I hold up my hand to stop him. I don’t want to hear what kind of lies Heather has been spilling about me. I’ve had enough, and it’s time to move on. “Please, Erik. I don’t need to know what people say about me behind my back.”
“No, I suppose you don’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken off with Alexander Asher for three days,” he says, seeming uncomfortable bringing it up.
If feeling degraded were an outfit, I’d say I wore it from head to toe. “Erik, that was for business. I swear.” Even though I’m leaving, I don’t want him to think wrong of me.
“I thought you were different, Kat.” He can’t look me in the eye. The one person in this building who has been nothing but kind and warm toward me, who believed in me from the beginning is let down.
I nod in agreement, my head still hanging low. “I thought so too.”
I make my way back to my office and gather my few small possessions, all of which I brought with me this morning. The room is still as bare as it was the day I started. The only personal thing it bears is a screensaver on my computer of the two people who matter most to me in my life. Two months ago, this room brought me joy and excitement. Now I see it for what it is. Just four white walls and a window.
I turn off my computer and put the chair back in position, clean and neat for the next person who occupies this space. I make my way to the doorframe to take one last look at the room when I see something poke out from under the desk. I bend down on the ground and slide out the beautiful black umbrella with its white pearl handle.
I buried it under there for a reason. Subconsciously afraid to acknowledge what it meant. Afraid of what was happening and knowing I had no control to stop it.
The umbrella has a weight to it I hadn’t noticed before. I grab it and hold it, reliving that day we met in the rain. My life would have turned out differently if we hadn’t met under those circumstances. If the train had arrived on time or if it hadn’t been raining, I would have been at the office on time. Asher and I would have met like a typical boss and colleague. He never would have acted the way he did toward me, and our conversations moving forward wouldn’t have been so heated.
If just one thing had gone otherwise that morning, my life would have turned out much differently. The weight of the umbrella feels unbearable.
What I cannot understand, and I tried to figure out all last night, is how on earth Asher didn’t know I had a son. Malory knows about him. She’s mentioned him quite a few times since I’ve worked here. Have my conversations with Asher been so aloof that I never spoke to him about Jackson?
Freud would have a field day with this. Some people believe there are no accidents; each of our actions has a purpose. In this case, I don’t remember a single moment I purposefully did not mention my son.
I also wonder, had I mentioned Jackson at anytime, would the outcome have been any different? I honestly don’t know.
Grabbing the pearl handle, I head down to reception where I can see my redhead.
“Hey, Kat.” Trish is seated behind the desk, her usual boisterous self deflated. “Shame there are no flowers today.”
She’s a sweet thing. I’m going to miss her. “It is a shame. Gonna miss them, huh?”
“Yeah.” She smiles coyly. “Well, come to think of it, they were getting a bit out of hand. And the smell was starting to give me a headache.” She scrunches her nose and wiggles her head.
I smile. “Yes, they were out of hand. Perhaps now Mr. Asher will put his money to better use.”
Trish nods in agreement. “Listen, Kat, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something…” She pauses mid-thought to answer the phone. I place my ID badge and office keys on the counter. Her face shoots up and her mouth fumbles as she talks to the caller on the other end. “No, sir, she hasn’t… Yes, she’s standing right in front of me… I’ll send her right up.” Trish hangs up the phone. “Mr. Asher needs to see you immediately.” Her voice is stern.
I wasn’t planning on facing Asher today, or ever again for that matter. “Call him back and tell him I already left.”
“No way. I already told him you were here. And he called down here personally. My ass is grass if you don’t go up there, and you know it.”
I let out a deep breath from deep inside my gut and surrender. She’s right.
“I’ll be right back.” I step away and take the elevator up to face him. What do I say to him? What does he want to know? Surely he hates me, and I can’t blame him.
The elevator stops on the floor and as the doors open, I can already hear his voice. “Where is she? Is she on her way up?” He’s standing at the reception desk next to Cecilia. I take a step toward them.
“Kathryn.” His resolve quickly morphs from exasperated to steel. He’s wearing his favorite black suit and looks the epitome of control except for how his collar is bunched up at the back of his neck. He looks back at Cecelia and decides we don’t need an audience. He opens his office door and directs me, “In.”
I comply and walk into his office but stop not far beyond the door. No sooner does he close the door behind us then I am immediately overwhelmed with emotion.
Keep it together, Kat.
I try to look around the room. There is the bar and the fancy TV screens. I see the small conference table, the seating area, and the wall where the Crux Gemmata is displayed beautifully. I take another look at the artwork. Its gemstones of emerald, gold, and sapphire pierce my brain, and I’m reminded of the awful mess I’ve made. My beautiful blue-eyed husband and this golden god and everything they’ve done to my life. My alpha and omega.
Focusing on the art, I use it as a distraction not to look over at him. My head is craned so far to the right as I feel him moving around me, circling like a hunter on its prey.
I let out a deep breath and turn slowly toward him. I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words.
Deep, dark circles line his eyes. “You’re leaving?” he asks.
“I have to.” I close my eyes. I didn’t think seeing him would be painful. “I hurt you, Asher. I hurt a lot of people.”
“You lied to me.” His jaws are clenched, but his voice sounds pained. “I bared my soul to you. I told you things I never shared with anyone, yet you held back the most important piece of you.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I promise you will never have to see me again.”
Asher flinches like my words hit him with an iron brick. He closes the gap between us, his head bent down, looking right into my eyes. “Did you mean what you wrote me in the note?”
I look at him, confused.
“You wrote, ‘You make my life make sense.’ I’ve kept it my pocket since you gave it to me.” He looks down and pulls the note out of his pocket. There it is in his hand, that Asher stationary I sent him with the bottle of intoxicating cologne. The words were a cute play on the gift. They didn’t mean anything at the time. Not to me at least. Not then.
My bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know what makes sense anymore, Alex.”
He smiles at my use of his first name. That’s our way of knowing we’re okay.
Looking down at my hand, Asher notices the umbrella. I hand it over to him. “Part of the no-gift policy,” I say with a shy smile. He knows better than to argue with me over this. He takes the pearl handle and places the umbrella on the floor by the door. If I didn’t know him so well, I would miss the wounded expression that creeps across his face.
He looks back at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?”
I shrug my shoulders. It’s the question I’ve been asking myself all weekend. As confused as I am about why he never knew, the truth is once he found out I had a son, he freaked out. That is the type of man he is. He wants no strings attached. Fooling around with a married woman was the perfect situation. But throw in a child and you change the game. That is a major string. He reacted just like I thought he would.
Confused and ashamed, I turn my body and start to head toward the door, when a
strong hand lands on my shoulder and forces me back around. My body swivels around and into him, landing on his hard chest and staring up into the unwavering eyes of Alexander Asher.
“I never thought I’d find someone like you,” he says. I draw my hand up to his lips to stop him from speaking, but he grabs my finger and pulls it away. “No, Kat, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I don’t know what is going on with you, with us…” He pauses. “But I can’t lose you.”
His hand holds tight to my cheek, and I try to gently pull away. “I was never yours to lose.” The words are as painful coming off my tongue as they are for him to hear.
He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head. “No. I need you. I told you that. I need you, any way I can get you.” He opens his eyes and stares through my soul. Full lips so close to mine. I remind myself I can’t lose myself in him again. His words are surprising. I thought he’d be disgusted by me. I thought he’d need me gone. Instead, he’s asking for me any way he can get me.
I step away from his hold and back up a few feet. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t quit. I have you under contract.”
Two more weeks of this? It will be difficult to look at him every day. It will be too much to look at Erik, Malory, and Heather. I can’t bear the rumors.
He won’t let me walk through the door, so I round him and make my way toward the bar. I grab a glass and the first bottle I see. As long as it’s strong, I don’t care what it is.
Asher watches as I hastily make my drink. His hands in his pockets, he is back to being the one in control. “I’ll let you resign as of today, under one condition.”
Stopping mid-pour, my head shoots up in curiosity.
“Come to the gala as my date. You worked so hard on it and a lot of our contacts are expecting to see your face. The organization needs you.”
I take a large swig and let his words set in. He knows where my soft spot is. I should go to the gala. I forgot how my absence would affect the organization.
“Yes. I will be there.” I can do that.
Asher’s face lights up and he looks relieved for the first time since we were on the beach in Miami. Maybe we can make this work.
“You’ll definitely be there?” He looks at me for confirmation.
“Yes.” I reassure him. “Yes. I will be there.” I’ve already dug my grave. Might as well lie in it. “May I use your restroom?”
He laughs at my simple request, relieved I’m no longer running for the door. “It’s behind you to the left,” he directs.
I take a final swig from my glass and set it down on the bar. In the restroom, I take a second to evaluate myself in the mirror. Yes, she’s still there. Loose hair, T-shirt, jeans, and Converse. Adulteress and mother, but still me.
I know there is no world where Gabriel and Asher can cohabitate, but for one more night, I can do the right thing. Even if that means attending a gala where he will be.
I splash some water on my face and look for a towel to dry with. There isn’t one on the counter. I open a drawer under the sink. Nothing. I try the next and there is one.
Hang on a second.
I go back to the first drawer and open it again. How did that get here?
I put my hand into the drawer and pull out the exact pair of black women’s underwear that have been causing me to lose sleep.
What the fuck? Either this is a very popular brand of women’s undergarments, or there is something completely fucked up about this situation.
I exit the restroom with the panties hanging from my index finger. Asher is still standing by the bar. He turns from looking at the television and his smile disappears.
“Whose are these?” My voice is stern and explicit.
Asher’s face is in a state of shock. His body tightens and his hands rise in defense. “Where did you get those?”
“Who do they belong to?” My voice is deeper, angrier.
“That was from long before this weekend. The relationship is over. I swear.” He takes a few steps toward me, and I take the same steps back.
It doesn’t matter whether these were before, after, or during our time together. It doesn’t matter if they are from his long-lost love or the girl next door. I just need to know whom they belong to.
My fear is I know exactly whose they are. There is only one person other than me who knows both my husband and my boss. It’s all starting to make sense.
“They’re Malory’s,” I state clearly. By his lack of response, I know I’m right.
I throw the vile undergarments in his face and storm toward the door.
“Kathryn, wait.” He takes off after me. “What difference does it make?”
I walk out the office door and catch the waiting elevator. “It makes more of a difference than you’ll ever know.”
I descend to the twenty-fourth floor and stop at my redhead. “You had something you needed to talk to me about?” By the look on my face, she knows I’ve already figured out a thing or two.
Trish doesn’t say a word, but hands me over a stack of emails she printed out. She clearly didn’t only have access to Erik’s files.
There were emails between Malory and Asher. They start when she submitted my resume and boasts about my proficiency and knowledge on site surveys and production planning. Then they start getting creepy. Many are explicit, recounting some of their nights together. I try to figure out why Trish printed them, until I see my name pop up. That one is dated the week after I arrived. She suggests the new girl is “definitely willing to work her way to the top.” Malory had no idea about my true affliction with Asher and the tumultuous relationship we had.
There are others where she’s telling Asher about how my marriage is falling apart and if he’s interested, he should stake his claim. I don’t understand why she would be pushing me toward Asher. I thought she wanted him. And from the words I’m reading, she had him, many times.
Trish also printed a correspondence from Malory to Erik, stating I was unfit for the position and he should reconsider whether I was appropriate to produce the gala. This is dated last week, the day Gabriel came to see me in the office. She was so mad at Heather that day, or perhaps it was really me. And to think, I thought Heather was the one who undermined me to Erik.
It all starts to come together with the final set of emails between Malory and Gabriel. This one is dated the day before his office visit. I didn’t even know she knew him well enough to email him. It seems innocent enough. She’s telling him what a great job I’m doing and how Asher and I did a site survey and how he’s really impressed with my work, even providing me one-on-one mentoring. How did she know I was with Asher that day? And why is she telling Gabriel? That was the night he fell asleep reading the magazine. He came to the office the next day, and I reveled in the fact he was jealous.
She had an agenda, and now so do I.
Emails in hand, I storm my way down to her office and slam the door behind me when I enter. She doesn’t seem concerned that I would even be there. It’s as if she’s been expecting me.
“I thought you resigned,” she states blandly.
“And I thought you were my friend!” I spit out.
Malory leans back in her chair and rests her hands on the arms, willing the confrontation.
I throw the incriminating emails on her desk and hide my phone as I hold it low at my hip. “You brought me here on purpose. You got me this job for a reason. Tell me, was it my career you set out to tarnish or just my marriage? I seem to be a little lost in the details.”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Kat. You always did think it was all about you. You just had to have it all.”
“Is this about Asher? I never wanted him, yet you were trying to get me in his bed before I even met him.”
“It was never about Asher. I’ve had him tenfold. I knew you would be easy bait for him. I just never expected the poor bastard to fall in love.”
Fall in love? Asher’s not in love with me. Even if he tho
ught he was, he lost it as soon as he found out about Jackson.
This all couldn’t have been about my career. Why would she hire me just to tear me down? No, she hired me to put me in Asher’s arms. And all for what?
“Gabriel.” I knew it when I found the panties in Asher’s bathroom. “You’re having an affair with Gabriel. You did all of this to drive us apart.”
Her black eyes turn to ice. “No, honey, you’ve still got it wrong. I’ve wanted Gabriel for years. You…you just push him aside like some lame suit that works his ass off to provide you with everything. I did all this to prove to him you’re unworthy of him. And you know what? I was right. You’re just as low as the rest of us. While you were gallivanting with Asher, your husband has been nothing but faithful to you. Trust me, honey, I tried. And I will keep on trying. Because you see, I was right. Gabriel is one of the good guys.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She is obsessed with Gabriel. It all makes sense now, in a really bizarre way. Someone I idolized for so long just tearing down the bubble in front of my eyes. To think, I thought this was my solace when it turns out to be my hell. I have to know just how evil she really is.
“Last week, you asked if I drove in. You left your underwear in my car. You wanted me to find them. You wanted me to—”
“You did that all on your own, Kat. You were begging for an excuse to fuck Asher. I gave you one.”
I can’t even respond to that comment. Instead, my mind continues to piece it all together. “Did you send those photos?” I breathe out the question with every ounce of disgust I have in my body.
She looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot she ever met. Perhaps I am. “You remember meeting Oswald Thompson in Miami, don’t you?” she asks. I nod. “Ozzie sent those. He’s got a good eye, doesn’t he?”
Oswald Thompson? Why in the world would Oswald Thompson care that I cheated on my husband?
Pure Abandon Page 27
