by A. K. Rose
“Are you okay?” Lana asked, sliding into a red vinyl booth opposite Jess, smile turning to concern as she did. Something wasn’t right; Jess seemed in a distant place, her eyes were glossy, almost like they were masked by tears that hadn’t yet fallen. “You look like you’re in shock or something.”
“Yeah, I . . .” Jessica started, pausing to compose herself. “I am in shock,” she finished, pushing the note across the speckled Formica table top, eyes cast down to hide the fact that she was indeed holding back tears.
“What’s this?”
“Just read it.”
As Lana read, Jess waited, stirring her coffee for no reason in particular, smiling halfheartedly as her favorite waitress, Jill, walked by with a tray full of burgers headed to the table behind them.
“I’ll be right back, girls,” Jill said in her motherly tone. “Let me just drop this off, okay?”
Jess nodded in acknowledgement then turned her attention back to the note, back to the only other person she intended to share it with.
“Holy shit. You’re being blackmailed,” Lana said finally as the reality of the situation hit her: She was the main contributing factor to the note’s existence. She had unknowingly complicated Jess’s life, and that put the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Yep.”
“Why are you being blackmailed? What do you know? Is it the other side’s attorneys?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s a lawyer. I found the note taped to my iPad this morning in court. I thought you’d left me a love letter, but as you know, you didn’t. It was definitely not a love letter . . . and I really don’t know what to do.” Jessica frowned, her brow furrowed, the little creases that emerged when she was upset making their presence known.
“You can’t participate in this, you know that. Besides being immoral—and potentially illegal—you’ll get yourself fired.”
“I know, but it’s not that easy. The case closes this week, we’ll have a verdict by Friday, maybe even sooner. They were supposed to finish closing arguments today, but they ran long and I think they’ll finish tomorrow. Everyone knows it’s getting appealed, large cases like this that start in state court almost always do. So this is about an impending Texas Supreme Court case. It could drag out forever. I could have this creep in my life a really long time. It seems like he or she thinks threatening to out me is enough to get insider information, but the thing is, I don’t really have any. But I have some ideas . . .”
“Wait,” Lana interrupted, locking in on green eyes full of worry, “you’re not thinking of colluding with this Mr. Brightside are you? You’re not, right?”
“I don’t know,” Jess sighed.
“What do you know?” Lana asked again, leaning across the table lowering her voice. “And what makes you think telling will stop him? You know how this works, don’t you? They never stop. You keep your promise but they don’t. They keep asking for more, more, more, until you end up no better off than you started and they get everything they wanted. It’s why we don’t negotiate with kidnappers; it’s why we don’t negotiate with terrorists. This guy is threatening you, and he’s going to continue to do so, sweetie. You need to go to the partners, you probably need to go to the police.”
“The thing is, I do have some ideas that could help the plaintiffs. You know I’ve struggled with this case,” Jess took a look around her surroundings, checking for anyone she knew before continuing, “I know of a precedent that could potentially turn the case into a child neglect and malpractice case. I’d even written it on the cover of my notepad a couple weeks ago. Whoever put the note in my bag would’ve had full access to see that, and if they were a lawyer, they’d know what it meant. So, that’s why I think it isn’t a lawyer.”
“Alright, girls, what can I get you?” Jill interrupted as if on cue, pen tip already touching the top of her notepad.
“Just coffee for now,” Lana said, her appetite diminishing the minute she realized Jess was in trouble.
“You got it, doll,” Jill offered and was back in a split-second with a glass carafe of steaming coffee, pouring it into a chipped white mug with the efficiency of a seasoned waitress, and was gone again as fast as she’d appeared.
“What do you mean, you know of a precedent?” Lana asked, picking up right where they’d left off in the conversation. “You’ve been thinking of ways to help the other side?”
“Not on purpose, no. But I realized a case that could help them a while back and wrote it down. I totally forgot about it though. I’ve been a little . . . preoccupied being in love with you.”
“Okay. So tell me what you’re thinking then? You’re going to tell him?”
“I don’t know,” Jess said, hands back in her hair, elbows hitting the table. She’d been holding her head a lot that day. As her phone buzzed with a new text message, her eyes were drawn to its screen.
Meet me at Black Dog Coffee tomorrow at 6 p.m. I know you know where it is. Sit in your normal chair. –Brightside
“It’s him,” Jessica said flatly, handing her phone across the table. This day just kept on giving.
“You can’t meet him. You can’t.” Lana said, holding the phone in disbelief. There was no way she was letting her girlfriend meet a blackmailer in a coffee shop.
“So what do I do? I’m not ready to come out, you know that. I’m not ready to tell my family, I really don’t want to tell people at work. I just don’t need that drama in my life right now.”
“You’d rather have the drama of being blackmailed? Besides, we’ve been seen together. We went to the New Years’ party together and kissed in public. I told you I love you on stage just last night in front of hundreds of people. Whether or not you’re ready to be out, we’re out there. He doesn’t exactly have ‘dirt’ on you. It’s Austin; it’s not 1950. The fact that you’re dating a woman isn’t really all that earth-shattering.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jess was back to turning a spoon in her coffee, stirring, stirring, stirring, for no reason. “But why does it feel that way? Why does it feel like I’m being attacked?”
“Of course it feels like you’re being attacked, because you are. Look hon, I’m not telling you that you need to come out, I can’t make that decision for you, but I can tell you it’s a much better process when you’re in charge of your own narrative. When you can tell people yourself instead of having them hear it some other way. Who knows if he’ll keep his promise anyway? You might meet him tomorrow, tell him what you know, and he may still out you. You can’t meet him. And there are worse things in life than being out of the closet. It’s actually pretty liberating to be honest with people.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Jess snipped. “You’ve been out forever. I’ve been gay for less than three months, it’s different.” She paused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, I’m just . . . I’m confused.”
“What would Cassie say?”
Jessica closed her eyes as she thought. What would Cassie say? “She’d say not to meet him. She’d say call the police, especially now that I have a phone number to trace. She’d say to talk to my family, talk to the partners. Even though she lived in the closet for so many years, considering the circumstances, I’m sure she’d say that they’d understand.”
“I think that too. I think you need to call the police. And I think your family will understand, from what you’ve told me about them. They seem very supportive. As for work, Steve’s out, isn’t he? It doesn’t seem like it matters at your firm. I just can’t see wrecking your career and potentially your life because of a blackmailer. You’ve worked too hard to flush it because of some creep.” Lana paused, considering. “Do you want to stop seeing me?”
“What?! God, no. That didn’t even cross my mind. I love you, I don’t want to stop seeing you. I want to see you every day, always.”
“Okay, good. I was just checking. How about this,” Lana said, easing her hand across the table and gently taking Jessica’s,
once again locking eyes and forcing a smile, reaching deep within herself to find a confident voice. “Don’t make a decision yet. Let’s get you home, get you a good night’s sleep, and we’ll talk about it in the morning, okay? You had a hard day; you’ve been blindsided. Major decisions when you’re tired and confused are never good.”
Social worker training came in handy once again. If Jessica couldn’t think straight, it was up to Lana to step in and guide her, to calm her, to remind her to stay true to herself and everything would be okay. It was up to her to put aside her own feelings and concerns and help Jess come to a reasonable solution, one where she didn’t succumb to blackmail, where she wasn’t in danger, where she could be happy and safe.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Okay, want to go now?”
As they walked out of Alejandro’s, unfed and now wired from too much coffee, Jess wondered if it would all be okay. If Lana was right, if coming out to her family was the best solution. If she removed the leverage from Mr. Brightside, would he leave her alone? Or would he continue to press in more aggressive ways? Should she go to the partners? The police? She hadn’t faced much adversity in her life, she now realized. She’d had petty problems, first-world problems. She’d had friendship drama and relationship drama and work drama, but nothing held a candle to this. She was scared, she was lost, and she had no breadcrumbs guiding her home.
EIGHTEEN
Cassie opened the lid to her laptop lazily, cup of herbal tea steaming off to the side, still too hot to drink but tempting her anyway. She’d had a long day at work and it was time to clock in for her evening shift, to work on her passion project. First she’d do her correspondence with her friends and family, and then crank out a new blog post. She’d been thinking about a new topic around gratefulness for a while and just needed to write it. It was a departure from her normal content about the intricacies of the law when it came to accident victims, but she felt strongly that everyone—especially those recovering from an accident—needs to take a moment to be grateful for what they do have, that life is better when you appreciate what you have instead of regretting what you don’t.
Sitting at the dining room table in her PJs, Cassie closed her eyes for a moment and dreamed of the day when her evening work was her daytime work—when she was in charge of her time and how she spent it.
It wouldn’t be long.
The ranch in Dripping Springs was perfect. It was just what they wanted. They were two weeks away from closing on the purchase and moving in. Life on top of work had been frenetic as they prepared Rachel’s house to go on the market, as they planned how they would furnish the new place, and as Cassie thought about the logistics of leaving her job at the state. She hadn’t told a soul other than Rachel and Jess that she planned to leave, and there was no way anyone suspected her. She’d been a model employee for years, and aside from a month off to recover from her accident, she’d never missed a day of work other than vacations. Her plan was falling into place, and once they were settled at the ranch, she would give notice and start the hard work: building her non-profit. She had saved up six weeks’ worth of vacation time. Hopefully that would be enough to get her on her feet, but if not, Rachel insisted it was okay, her dental practice was thriving and they would be just fine financially.
Flipping through her inbox, she deleted junk mail after junk mail along with newsletters she didn’t remember signing up for until she came across an email that stood out amongst the clutter. It was from her cousin Stuart’s wife—she assumed she was still his wife—Jennifer.
Hey Cassie,
I’m coming to Austin for SXSW in a couple weeks. Do you have time to see me for coffee? I know that didn’t go so well for you last time, so it’s on me this time! Kevin will be with Stuart at home.
I want to see how things are with you and give you my own life updates. Lots of changes since I saw you.
Hugs,
Jennifer
Cassie hadn’t heard from Jennifer since she’d sent flowers after the accident almost three months before, but had wondered from time-to-time what had happened with her, if she was moving forward with her separation from Stuart, if she was doing okay. They’d never been terribly close, but she did feel for her challenges, she did care for her.
Hey Jen!
So good to hear from you! Yeah, this time let’s not let our coffee date land me in the ER, okay? I’m just now able to walk semi-normally!
I’d love to see you when you’re in town. I have lots of updates myself. Tell me what bands you’re seeing, maybe we can see a show together too. Where are you staying?
Love,
Cass
Life is funny, Cassie thought as she opened up her blog dashboard to start a new post. Everyone around her was turning up gay. It was borderline comical at this point. She’d lived her whole life hiding her identity, and as soon as she just decided to be herself, so did everyone else. First Jennifer, then Jessica. She wouldn’t be surprised if her sister called her with news that she was changing teams, too.
As she typed, she heard Rachel in the kitchen putting away dishes and smiled. They were in a comfortable place together; they were happy, and the topic of gratefulness seemed especially fitting on this day. She was grateful for her life and for her experiences, she wouldn’t be who she was without them.
# # #
It was the hardest call she’d made in her life. Jessica figured she’d spent thousands of hours on the phone in her time. She’d practically had a headset attached to her ear when she was a teenager, and she’d spent plenty of time making calls early in her career at the small firm where she worked right out of college. As a general rule, making phone calls didn’t bother her.
This phone call terrified her.
This phone call was one she never expected to make, much less be forced to make.
She’d slept on it; she’d decided to take the power away from her blackmailer by simply outing herself to her family, and later, her firm. It wasn’t like she would take out a full page ad in the newspaper that said “BREAKING: JESSICA TAYLOR IS DATING A WOMAN.” She’d simply call her parents and tell them the truth. She knew Lana was right, she had no other choice. She still wasn’t sure if she was going to meet the mysterious Mr. Brightside later that day, but she knew she was going to take away the power before she did anything. If he had no leverage, he had no control.
It was early in the day, and there was no way not to blindside her parents. She couldn’t just ease into it. She didn’t have time to take them to dinner and ply them with liquor. She didn’t have time to drive to San Antonio to see them in person, and she couldn’t work her way into it with small talk. She was going to have to get to the point, quickly. It wasn’t how she envisioned talking to them about her life, and it definitely wasn’t how she wanted to tell them about Lana, but she had no other choice. Sometimes ripping the Band-Aid off was the only way.
“Hi honey,” Ellen Taylor answered, her voice telegraphing the happiness she felt at hearing from her daughter.
“Mom, hi.”
“Is everything okay sweetie? It’s odd to hear from you this early on a workday. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I am . . . Mom, I need to tell you something, and it’s going to be a surprise, okay? It’s not how I wanted to tell you this, not even close, but I don’t have a choice,” Jessica said, her voice trembling slightly.
“Okay?” Ellen sunk into the recliner in her family room, concern washing over her as she listened for her daughter’s news. It wasn’t unusual to hear from Jessica, but it was unusual to hear from her at eight a.m. on a Tuesday.
“I’m going to just cut to the chase. I wasn’t kidding—this is going to be a surprise—so maybe sit down,” Jessica started, pausing briefly before continuing, “I’m being blackmailed. I’ve been supporting a high-profile class-action suit at work. I haven’t told you about the case because I really can’t talk about it, you understand how that goes.”
“You’re being what?!”
>
“I’m being blackmailed. It’s shocking, I know. This just happened yesterday, it’s very fresh. But the gist of it is someone—I don’t know who—thinks I can help the plaintiffs. My firm is defending a pharmaceutical company— I can’t really get into that—but whoever this is thinks I can help the other side . . .” Jess paused, the gravity of what she was saying hitting her. She was being blackmailed. It still made no sense, but it was clearly what was happening. She needed to press on. She needed to find the courage to tell the rest of the story. “I have no idea who it is—the blackmailer—but they have threatened to sully my reputation significantly if I don’t help. The irony is the case will be over this week, but it’s ninety-nine percent sure to go to an appeal, so I think that’s his angle—he wants help for the appeal.”
“Did you call the police? This sounds serious, honey. I don’t like this one bit. I never worried about you going into law, I thought it would be a safe profession for you. I never . . .”
“Mom, it’s okay, I’m going to be okay. But I need to tell you something, I need to explain the leverage he has. Well, I assume it’s a he, I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Ellen agreed, her free hand raking through her ginger hair, a trait Jess had inherited from her mother besides just hair color. Stressful times sent Ellen’s hands straight to her head.
“Is there anything I could tell you that would make you love me less?”
“Of course not, why would you even ask that?”
“Okay, good. The thing is . . . I’ve been dating a woman. Her name’s Lana. She’s a social worker and she plays bass in a band. The blackmailer is threatening to out me if I don’t help him, so instead of you finding out some other way, I wanted to tell you myself. I’m sorry I waited until now. I’ve been seeing her since December.”
