The Barrett Brothers Collection

by K B Cinder

  I wondered what our life together would be like as I stood there, thoughts of kids and marriage flooding my mind. As shocking as it was, I couldn’t wait to have a daughter with her, a little girl with as much fire as her mother, but hopefully not as clumsy. Maybe we’d name her after Elena’s mother, a woman I’d never meet. I didn’t know much about her parents, but I’d learn more, especially over Christmas, when we’d head up to Middle-of-Nowhere, Vermont, as she called it.

  “Next,” another teller bellowed.

  I stepped into her lane, a twenty-something blond with more attitude on her face than makeup, and that was an achievement. “Good afternoon.”

  “Hi,” she replied flatly. Her lips pulled downward in a scowl, ready to get the hell out of that place.

  I knew the feeling all too well. “Having a rough day?” I asked, raising a brow.

  Her face scrunched. “Maybe.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, glancing up at the clock and spying the time, then to her name tag, SARA etched in black. “Luckily, you’ll be free in two hours, Sara.”

  By then, I’d be tucked away in my hotel room, hopefully arranging a trip with Elena to Chicago before Christmas. After that, it was off to bed, my weekend packed with odds and ends in Tampa. It’d be my last time there in the foreseeable future, so I needed to wrap shit up once and for all.

  She nodded. “How can I help you, sir?”

  “I need to make a money transfer from my account to another.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket, fishing out the worn piece of lined paper with the pertinent details I used to have memorized. It was funny how the brain replaced data, names, birthdays, and milestones erased when they were no longer important. It was an amazing organ when it functioned properly — when depression didn’t have it in a stranglehold.

  “The date of the payment, sir?” she asked, her hands resting on her keyboard, pink-shadowed eyes looking my way. Her false lashes were terrifying, resting on her eyes like black butterflies from the depths of hell.

  I shrugged, not really caring. As long as the tainted money was out of my account, I’d be happy. “Today is fine. Or Monday if it needs to be the next business day.”

  She snapped the gum in her mouth loudly, making me jump. “The amount of the transfer?” she asked.

  Jesus Christ, who popped gum in a bank? It sounded like a goddamn gunshot. She was lucky she didn’t give me or the old couple a heart attack.

  “It’ll be $70,000,” I replied, gripping the counter in irritation.

  Her eyes popped wide, and she all-out gaped at me. “We have a one-week holding period on sums that high, sir.”

  I waved a hand. “That’s fine.”

  Her eyes drifted back to her screen, a sudden burst of red igniting her cheeks. “The name of the account holder you’ll be transferring the funds to?”

  I rolled my shoulders, ready to leave the past behind once and for all. “Bianca Barrett.”

  Elena

  Mondays sucked a fat one. Especially when they started off in HR.

  The clusterfuck of Croft struck again, my personnel file vanishing. I had to be re-fingerprinted, photographed, and verified, and if that wasn’t annoying enough, I had to fill out mountains of paperwork with Peggy, the human resources manager.

  She apologized profusely, and I tried not to take it out on her, but damn was I pissed. I completed the forms, my hand cramping to hell and back by the time I signed the last line, the act of writing foreign thanks to computers.

  It was a little too convenient that it went missing after they moved Monica to the department, but I had no proof to make any accusations, so I kept quiet. If she tampered with it again, there would be hell to pay.

  I all but darted out of there, stopping in the restroom before I burst thanks to downing a liter of water. When I was washing my hands, in walked Monica, camping out in front of the mirror, angling her face to check her makeup.

  “Good morning, Elena,” she greeted, a smile shining bright as she met my eyes in the mirror.

  “Hi.” I didn’t have a word more to say to her after our last run-in. I especially didn’t after the paperwork debacle she was without a doubt behind.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, still smiling as she fussed with her flaxen locks.

  “Fine...” I trailed as I flicked off the faucet. “How are you?”

  She fluffed her hair more, tilting her chin high as she studied her reflection. “Oh, I’m wonderful. I’m having the best day ever.”

  “That’s nice.” I shook water droplets from my hands, bracelets clattering with each flick of the wrist.

  “The schedule is interesting today,” she mused, her smile widening.

  Great. Marty probably scheduled something awful, and she would rub it in now that she was free of him. “Is it? I haven’t been to my desk. When I came in, I had to meet with Peggy.”

  She feigned horror, popping her mouth into a ridiculous circle. “I heard. Weird, right?”

  For the thousandth time, I swallowed disgust for her. “Yeah, strange.”

  “Well, an email went out from Chicago. We’re having a branch meeting today.”

  I shrugged. It was probably about whoever would take over for Jason. Maybe they were announcing a fill-in finally, though I doubted it. In true Croft fashion, they hadn’t started interviews, much to Jason’s frustration. “That’s cool.”

  “Everyone will be on the call! I’m so excited!”

  “Yeah, that’s cool.” I reached out and grabbed a paper towel, blotting my hands for the last bits of moisture.

  “Oh, Barrett is out, so he’ll probably be calling in,” she breathed, pursing her lips in the mirror.

  I shrugged, not interested in wherever she was going with her game. “No clue.”

  “He’s so busy. I don’t know how he has the time for those things.”

  “None of us have time for them,” I replied, tossing the crumpled towel in the trashcan under the sink, a smaller can replacing the one she dented a week earlier. “Someone will forward the meeting notes, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, but this is a personal leave he’s on, so I don’t know.”

  I ignored her, not taking the bait. Someone should have thought twice before giving her access to HR records. It was like letting a wolf right in the pasture.

  She looked side to side, scanning the bathroom. “Well, between you and me, he’s down in Florida to work things out with his wife,” she whispered. “So, he probably doesn’t care about anything up here right now.”

  I felt each word like she kicked me in the stomach with one of her Manolos. Married? She was confused. She had to be. He was selling the house, taking care of last-minute paperwork. Ethan and Luke would have mentioned a wife.

  She pouted. “Bummer, right? He’s such a hottie, too,” she whined. “He took the job here to give her space. Sounds sketchy if you ask me. Wanting space is the step before divorcing. I would know. Been there, done that. Twice.”

  “Marty said he’s selling his house,” I replied, ready to crawl out of my skin to get away from her. “So, that’s great for him.”

  “Well yeah, they’re moving to Chicago together next month,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “You know how that goes. People run from their problems and think starting fresh somewhere else fixes them.”

  As much as I wanted to leave, I froze, suddenly feeling faint. I swallowed, unable, unwilling to say a thing.

  “Oh, you poor thing...” she trailed, finally turning from the mirror to face me. “You really thought you were special, huh?”

  I flicked my eyes to hers. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on!” she cackled. “Like everyone didn’t notice you two?”

  I swore I was going to throw up all over her fugly fuchsia sweater. “What?”

  “You were after him from the moment he stepped foot in the building!” she laughed. “I’m not sure what he saw in you, but you must have thrown yourself at him. I guess he’s like a s
hark; if you chum him enough, he’ll take a bite.”

  Her words were daggers, slicing and dicing. My legs trembled, but I refused to give in. She had to be lying. It was another classic Monica stunt.

  Did she see us somewhere? Maybe she overheard us that day in his office. She could have taken the information and ran with it. Now she would blackmail me or worse.

  I held my ground despite my crumbling core. “Monica, not only are you petty, but you’re desperate.”

  She giggled, swishing her hair from side to side. “Oh please! Everyone knows you two are fucking! It’s a wonder he didn’t throw raises your way!” Her eyes narrowed, tapping a finger to her chin. “Or did he?”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Don’t take it out on me because he lied,” she shot back. “Aw, did he promise you the world? Did he make you think there might be some chance once he left for Chicago? Was he going to save Elena from big bad Ithaca and her pathetic life? That’s fucking hilarious! My friends will love to hear about this!” Her laughter danced through the air, lashing out with each crescendo.

  I didn’t say a thing, perilously close to delivering a throat punch that would silence her for once. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t, as it would cost me my job: the job I needed more than air at that moment, though the competition was getting fierce between the two.

  “Told ya,” she continued, smiling wider. “Such a pity! I always thought you had more class than that. Especially after, well, ya know...”

  I turned away, disgusted. I left her laughing in the bathroom, flinging the door wide, desperate for air. I fled down the hall to the office, ready to get to work. I’d worry about what she said later.

  There was no way she was telling the truth. His brothers were a lot of things: boisterous, raunchy, and promiscuous, but they weren't liars.

  Had they meant that he had to tell me about her? They only asked that I give him time, assuring that he loved me. Did they mean that I needed to give him time with his wife?

  The questions spun as I stormed down the hall. I had to talk to him after work to sort out the truth. In the meantime, I only had Monica’s word, a word as trustworthy as rest stop sushi.

  As soon as I entered the room, all eyes flew to me, and my heart dropped. I put my head down and hurried to my desk, hoping it was my imagination. They weren’t staring at me. I was paranoid. Maybe they heard about my entire file vanishing into thin air.

  When I sat down, I noticed a form to the left of my keyboard. I lifted it, seeing it was Jason’s W-4, the marital status clear as day thanks to a streak of bright yellow highlighter: married.

  I scooted back as if it had spontaneously combusted, nearly falling out of my chair to get away from it. All his words whirled in my head. All the sweet nothings. All the affection. It was all a lie. An awful, terrible, rotten lie. The worst of the worst on the deception scale.

  I looked up, and all eyes were still on me–the entire room knowing my most intimate secret. The people I had worked with for over half a decade knew that I was having sex with our director. Our married director.

  All the while, the truth backhanded me, a terrible, disgusting truth that singed my being. There was a Mrs. Barrett, and I was screwing her husband for the last three months. Before that, we knew each other on Privately for months. How was he allowed to sign up as a married man? They wanted our credit history but didn’t bother to check legal marital status? Seriously?

  I looked to Lee, my best friend, my sister, and my heart broke completely. Her eyes showed nothing but pain, the mischief gone, replaced with a mist of tears.

  “Lee?” I squeaked, not recognizing my voice.

  She shook her head, a hand flying up to clasp over her mouth.

  I looked around again, all eyes still glued to me, a dead silence blanketing the office. I had all the confirmation I needed, and I was the one facing it alone, forced to take the embarrassment along with a mound of betrayal for the road. I looked like the monster.

  Marty’s door popped open, and he waved an arm beckoning me over, a look of sadness haunting his face.

  I stood, gathering what I could of my belongings. Despite it all–the twisting guts, the burning chest, the pain–I walked out with my head held high, refusing to crack. I wasn’t going to give them more to talk about.

  I refused to let Marty fire me, hurrying when I heard him calling my name, strolling by Monica, who was leaning against the bathroom door smiling. I flipped her off and kept going. I would leave on my own terms. At long last, I would take control of the situation.

  I walked through the lobby, heels echoing with each step. Complete silence followed, but I was sure I heard people getting up to watch my walk of shame. I didn’t give a rat’s ass either. Let them gossip. Let them soil my name. Let them think the worst of me. It was probably the most fun they had in years.

  I kept my composure across the parking lot, counting down the steps to my car. It was there that I could lose it, that I could let out the sob that was strangling me since Monica revealed the awful truth. Every step felt like a mile, but I was determined to give myself a shred of dignity to mourn the loss of my love in peace.

  I tossed everything into the back and slammed the door, climbing into the driver’s seat as the facade cracked. It hurt more than I could bear, the weight of a thousand bricks crashing on my heart. Tears blinded me with their fury, turning my physical world into as much of a blur as my personal life. I leaned forward and let it all out, awful sobs ripping through.

  I was a complete fool. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew better.

  I didn’t care about those fuckers inside. But I had integrity, dammit, and it was tarnished because of a man that couldn’t tell the truth. He made me look like a monster–a home-wrecking hussy of a liar.

  Worst of all, I was a liar. I lied to them all. I was having sex with the boss right under their noses. Even my best friend’s. And I lied to her to cover it up. Repeatedly.

  But I loved him. Goddammit, I loved him. But how could I still love him after what he did?

  There was a tap on my window.

  I jerked upright, wiping my eyes, face to face with Lee, my best friend who I betrayed. The one I kept the biggest mistake of my life from.

  I tried to roll down the window, but she yanked the door open instead and looked me dead in the eyes. “You’re such a stupid bitch sometimes, but I love you,” she declared, hauling me into a hug. “Fuck them! They don’t matter!”

  I fell apart at her words, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you!” I cried, clutching onto her for dear life. “I’m such a terrible friend!”

  She squeezed me tight. “Yeah, you were terrible, but you were fucking Mr. Jerkoff, so it rubbed off on you!” she laughed. “But if I got to fuck that, and it had to be a secret, you’d have to cut my left tit off to talk.”

  “What am I going to do?” I wailed. It was so much worse than with Justin. At least then, I still had a job. My reputation. My identity.

  “Well, for one, you’re not going back in that shithole, and I’m not either.”

  “What?” I shrieked, pulling back.

  She smirked. “Yeah, fuck them.”

  “Lee, you have a family!” Me quitting in my situation was one thing, but she was a different story.

  She shrugged. “There are other jobs out there that aren’t full of backstabbing fuckwads.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t do that!”

  She had a family. A husband. Kids. A house. A dog that ate more than I did.

  She chuckled. “Well, I have no choice. I told Monica what I thought of her in front of everyone. Marty too. C-bomb and all.”

  “You did what?” I sputtered.

  “It was pretty epic,” she bragged, smiling wide. “It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. The whole office will tell their grandkids about it one day.”

  As great as it was, I couldn’t smile if my life depended on it, sadness gripping me tight. “Now what?” I aske
d, more lost than I had ever been.

  “We get the hell out of this dump and go back to your place. Then we plan.”

  “Plan?” Fresh tears welled. There was no way I could plan. I didn’t know up from down anymore.

  “Yeah, we need a plan.”

  “I don’t even know. I have so many bills.” It was a rash decision to walk out, and I should have let them fire me so I could’ve collected unemployment. But like so many things, I fucked that up too.

  She squeezed me gently. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t stress. I’ll meet you there, beautiful.”

  * * *

  I drove back to my apartment with Lee following close behind, likely wanting to run me off the road with how slow I was going. I couldn’t help it. The tears made driving difficult, sobs erupting as I pictured Jason’s face–his beautiful eyes, those lips, that smile. It was all an act. A ruse to get in my pants. And I fell for it. I never wanted to see him again as much as it hurt to admit.

  He knew how I felt about monogamy and loyalty. It was at my core, and he stabbed me right through it.

  The future was up in smoke. My most recent and only long-term employer wouldn’t be a great reference. Oh yeah, Elena Julian was great. Too bad she screwed the married boss and had to quit on the fly in a heap of disgrace. Nice girl, though.

  Meanwhile, he was a thousand miles away, soaking up rays with his wife while I was left holding the bag. He’d return and be a dog in the eye of some, but likely get scooted over to Chicago early, rewarded for bedding me while raising profits.

  Anger roared to life as I pulled into the lot, storming up to my apartment without waiting for Lee. She was right. I needed a plan. A plan that involved getting the hell out of Ithaca for good.

  Elena

  Two hours.

  That was all it took to pack up life in the city that broke me. I wouldn’t be a doormat for its misery any longer.