by Brenda Novak
“You’re smiling!” Lucy said.
The hint of surprise in her daughter’s voice told Lorelei that she hadn’t been doing nearly enough of that lately. “I feel good. How about you?”
“I feel good, too. The sun is shining.”
The light gleaming around the blinds indicated as much. “I can see that.”
“Can we go sledding again?”
“’Fraid not, kiddo.” Lorelei covered a yawn. “There was barely enough snow to do it yesterday. Remember how the rocks were poking through in some places and we had to be careful to stay away from them?”
“Yes...”
“There’d be even more rocks poking through today.”
“Why?”
“Because the snow is melting. It’s turning into summer.”
She scowled. “I wish it wasn’t.”
Lorelei caught her little hand and kissed it. “I thought you wanted to go kayaking.”
When Lucy didn’t seem to recall the term, Lorelei clarified. “You know, riding in those little boats I told you about?”
“On the water?”
“Yes, on the lake.”
“I do!”
“Then we need the weather to warm up.”
Lucy seemed to consider this as Lorelei smoothed her hair back. “Can Finn go in the little boats with us?” she asked once she seemed to decide that would be an okay substitute, after all.
Lorelei had to admit she was hoping to see more of Finn herself. “Maybe.”
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, where she’d plugged it in to charge for the night.
Eager to see who it was, Lucy squirmed out of her arms. “It’s Daddy!” she announced when she saw her father’s picture on the screen.
While Lorelei kept her outer smile firmly in place, she felt her inner smile fade. “You can answer it,” she told her daughter.
Lucy pushed the button. “Hi, Daddy!”
Lorelei could hear the deep rumble of Mark’s voice, but she couldn’t make out what he said. And that suited her fine. She didn’t want to hear anything from him.
With her daughter occupied for a few minutes, she allowed her eyes to close and her mind to wander, remembering what it had felt like to have Finn pull her into his arms when she was crying.
But then she heard Lucy say something that made her eyes snap open.
“I said Finn...No, Finn, Daddy...” She giggled. “That’s his name!...No, he’s not a fish...You’re silly...He went sledding with us yesterday...Mmm-hmm. He has a big sled...He’s nice...Yeah, Mommy likes him, too...”
Mommy likes him?
Holding her breath, Lorelei shoved herself up on one elbow.
“She’s here...Yeah...Okay...” Lucy held out the phone. “Daddy wants to talk to you.”
Although she was cringing inside, Lorelei put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Who’s Finn?” Mark demanded without preamble.
Lorelei was trying to decide which response would sound more innocuous—“the neighbor next door” or “a friend”—when Mark spoke again, the volume of his voice rising.
“Hello? Did you hear me?”
“I heard.” Obviously, this wasn’t going to be an easy call. She gave Lucy a nudge. “Why don’t you run and get dressed, honey? We’ll go down and make you some breakfast when I get off the phone.”
“Okay,” she said and bounced off.
“Who’s Finn?” Mark sounded like a time bomb about to detonate, but the irony of his anger, combined with the way their daughter had described Finn, made Lorelei start to laugh. “Just a guy with a big sled,” she said, unable to resist the metaphor.
“Aren’t you hilarious,” Mark growled. “What’s going on, Lorelei? You’ve been so odd since you left. Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you aren’t coming home?”
Sobering, Lorelei drew a deep breath. “No, you’re the reason I’m not coming home, Mark. You and Francine and the whole nasty affair.”
He backed down when he heard that. “I know the situation isn’t ideal, but we can wade through it. Just come back to Florida, so we can get some counseling or something and figure this out.”
Figure it out? Or do everything in his power to convince her to live with the consequences of his affair for the rest of her life?
Lorelei thought of Serenity and Reagan—and Finn. She’d mentioned a therapist when Mark had first told her about Francine, and he’d been unreceptive, made it clear that he didn’t think counseling had anything to offer him. He said there were far too many other places their money would have to go, given the new baby and trying to continue building their own lives. So why was he suggesting it now? Was it that he thought she was the one who needed a psychologist?
Considering her background, she figured professional help couldn’t hurt. But if he was only willing to go in order to change her, it wouldn’t save their marriage. And she could get counseling whether she remained in the marriage or not.
Feeling more resolute than ever, she said, “I’ll be home in September.”
“You’re sticking to that.”
“I am.”
“You’re really going to leave me here with Francine...”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. “Is that a threat?”
“No.” He backed off immediately, but she could tell it had been an attempt to manipulate her through her jealousy, and that galled her after everything he’d done.
“I should tolerate you having a baby with my best friend, but you can’t give me three months to spend with my new sisters?”
“I’m not saying... I didn’t mean... I miss you, that’s all.”
Too bad he hadn’t led with that, because it was too late now. “I’m sorry, Mark. I need this time. It’s possible you do, too. If I can’t fulfill you, maybe Francine can.”
“Damn it! Will you stop throwing your best friend at me?”
“I didn’t throw her at you! And she’s not my best friend. She’ll never be my friend again. You cost me that.”
He seemed to be at a loss for words. But then he said, “I’m sorry. Please, Lorelei. Will you...will you just come home?”
“I’ll be back in September. In the meantime, I’m giving you permission to see whoever you want.”
Silence. This time, she didn’t sense anger, as she had when she’d been talking to him outside yesterday; she sensed panic. “Are you saying that because you want to see other people? This Finn guy?”
“No,” she said. But only because she couldn’t imagine she’d ever really have a chance with Finn.
A guy like Finn could have anybody.
* * *
reagan
There it was—her response from Gary at Edison & Curry.
Reagan could hear her sisters downstairs in the kitchen with Lucy, but she hadn’t joined them. She first had to deal with whatever she was about to find in this email.
She took a quick shower, to put off reading Gary’s response a little longer. But with only ten minutes to spare before she had to be downstairs to adhere to the new schedule she’d given Serenity, she finally perched on the edge of the chair near the bookcase, pulled her computer onto her lap and clicked Open.
Dear Reagan:
I’m sorry to hear that you’re moving on. I feel as though the many opportunities we provided for the advancement of your career should have been rewarded with more loyalty than having you suddenly call in sick for several days and then quit without so much as a conversation between us.
But since you’ve already made up your mind, I’ll wish you well and will remind you of the non-compete clause you signed when you started working here, in which you expressly agreed “not to enter into or start a similar trade or profession in competition with Edison & Curry.”
Just so you know, I plan to
rigorously enforce that agreement, so best of luck getting started in a new industry.
Sincerely, Gary Rincon
Feeling like a balloon someone had poked with a pin, Reagan slumped over, completely deflated. So there it was. The culmination of years of hard work and dedication, dogged focus and creative energy. Nights. Weekends. Lunches. The sacrifice of almost all her personal time. She’d received no “thank you.” No “please reconsider.” Just “You’d better not do anything to threaten my business or I’ll come after you.”
“Wow.” Stunned in spite of having seen others leave the firm with a similarly cold send-off, she felt slightly nauseous. Although she’d been aware of the non-compete clause, she’d signed it ten years ago, when she was fresh out of college and so happy to land a good job. She hadn’t thought much about it since. Because she didn’t plan on starting her own advertising firm, she certainly hadn’t expected it to be much of a stumbling block.
But now that Gary had quoted the actual language, she wondered if simply going to work for another advertising agency would be considered an infringement.
If so, what was she going to do?
“You think you did so much for me,” she murmured. “What about everything I did for you? Not just anyone could’ve come up with the campaigns I created. I brought in—and managed—a lot of business.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, she checked her phone to see if Drew had tried to reach her this morning. Since it was three hours later in New York, it was almost lunchtime—late enough for him to be in the office and to have heard about her resignation.
She’d received nothing from him, though, not so much as a text in the past twenty-four hours.
Was she compounding the mistake she’d made with Drew by quitting her job? With that non-compete clause, there was a chance she wouldn’t able to stay in the industry.
Maybe Gary was bluffing, trying to punish her for displeasing him. He didn’t take disappointment well, which was partly why she felt she deserved a thank you, at the very least. Not just anyone could put up with the pressure he exerted, let alone excel in spite of it.
Putting her phone and computer aside, she went to the railing, where her sisters’ and Lucy’s voices floated up to her, to see if she could tell whether they were finished with breakfast.
Lorelei: “Want some toast?”
Serenity: “Sure. I haven’t had dip eggs in forever.”
Lorelei: “Or, if you can wait an hour, I’ll make a goat cheese, spinach and sun-dried tomato quiche.”
Serenity: “Do we have all the ingredients?”
Lorelei: “I saw some spinach in the fridge, which is what gave me the idea. But I may have to drive over to the store to get a couple of other things. I’ll do that while you’re writing, and we can have the quiche tomorrow morning. And maybe I’ll make a pesto pasta for lunch.”
Serenity: “You like to cook, huh?”
Lorelei: “I love it.”
Serenity: “Hopefully, that’ll rub off on me.”
Lucy: “What’s quiche, Mommy?”
Lorelei: “It’s like an egg pie.”
Lucy: “Pie is yummy.”
After deliberating for a couple of minutes, Reagan went back into her bedroom, quietly shut the door and called Drew.
Too nervous to sit down, she paced at the end of the bed while the phone rang.
“Hello?”
Her heart began to race at the sound of his voice. She missed him so much, missed her former life, too. Now that she knew she wasn’t going back to Edison & Curry, she felt as though she’d lost her anchor and was drifting, rudderless, out into the squalls of the open sea.
“Drew?” She hated feeling so shaky and uncertain. She wasn’t used to being in such a weak position. Generally forthright and decisive, she knew her own mind—when dealing with everyone except her mother.
“There you are!” he said.
“Can you talk?”
“For a few minutes. God, I’m glad you finally called. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I...I needed some time to myself to do some soul-searching.”
“About...”
About you. About what they’d done. About how she could be a good person and still make such a terrible mistake.
The fact that he’d even asked seemed strange. Didn’t he feel as out of sorts as she did? “What I most want out of life, I guess.”
“So are you back from Tahoe? Because if you are, we should meet up, have lunch together.”
And then what...go back to her place? He was acting so casual, as if nothing had changed. She couldn’t help bristling, especially after the avalanche of guilt that had nearly destroyed her this past week. “No, I’m not back yet. I’m—” She was about to tell him she’d very likely be spending the whole summer at the lake, but he cut her off.
“Oh, that’s right. Your flight isn’t until Friday. It was on the company calendar until Gary deleted it.”
“That was quick,” she said dryly.
“He sent an email to the whole company this morning, notifying everyone that you’d quit.”
“How nice of him.”
He didn’t respond to her sarcasm. “I hope it wasn’t because of me.”
She stopped pacing. Of course it was because of him! What other reason could there be?
But he didn’t sound too broken up by what they’d done—that he’d hurt his wife so deeply, if he even planned to tell her, or that Reagan wouldn’t be coming into the office each day. “We can’t continue to work together after...after what happened, Drew.”
“Give me a minute.”
Assuming he was closing his office door, she gripped the phone tighter as she waited for him to return.
“Listen, I’m afraid you’re taking what we did far too seriously,” he said when he came back on the line. “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That you’d freak out and turn it into a big deal. Don’t ruin your career over fifteen minutes of panting and one good climax, Reagan.”
Fifteen minutes of panting? One good climax? Was that how he characterized what they’d done together?
She’d thought he might try to minimize the incident, tell her they could forget about it so they could continue working together. But she’d imagined he’d do that because he cared about her and wanted to remain in close contact. The throwaway tone he’d just used made her wonder if she had meant anything to him at all. “We had sex on your desk,” she said.
“Believe me, I remember.”
The satisfaction in his voice irritated her. She couldn’t detect a hint of remorse. “You’re married!”
“You knew that before it happened.”
“I did. Which is why I feel so bad.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’ll always be there for Sally and the kids.”
What did he mean by that? “Isn’t having sex with another woman the opposite of being there for Sally and the kids?” she asked. “Doesn’t that strike a blow at the very structure of your family—I mean, if word were to get out?”
“Are you threatening to tell her?” This was the first thing that seemed to trigger an emotional response. She could tell it upset him.
“No! I’m pointing out how serious what we did is.”
“Look, you can beat yourself up over it all you want. But I’m not going to do the same.” Now that she’d said she wasn’t going to tell his wife, the tone of his voice had evened out, indicating that he’d relaxed again. “We’ve worked together for a long time, and you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Of course I’d want you. Any man would.”
“Even if he was married.”
“Sally is happy, Reagan. I work hard and bring home a lot of money. I help out around the house. I go to everything she and the kids ask me to. I grilled
burgers for some people she wanted to have over for a barbecue just yesterday. I deserve to have a little fun on my own now and then.”
Reagan couldn’t believe her ears. “A little fun?”
“I won’t lie. You’re all I’ve been able to think about—for months. So I’m glad you quit. Now that we don’t work for the same firm anymore, it’ll be easier for us to see each other. We won’t have to worry about someone here telling Sally, because no one will have any idea. We could travel. Attend the theater or the opera. Go out to eat. As long as we don’t frequent the same places everyone else around here does, we could do a lot of fun things. And I’d make sure you were well taken care of.”
She felt as though he’d just slugged her. “You mean carry on a secret affair, where I’d be the other woman.”
“You’ve never mentioned wanting a family. So does it matter what our relationship is technically called as long as we both enjoy spending time together?”
Her legs suddenly didn’t seem capable of supporting her. “Oh, my God,” she whispered as she sank down on the bed.
“Wait. Hear me out. You have no idea how great it could be. And after the way you quit this job, you’re going to need some help getting another one. I can smooth the way with Gary, so he doesn’t sue if you sign on with someone else. I can even put in a good word for you with our competitors. I bet you’ll be able to land something in the next two weeks. And if you don’t? If it takes a while to find what you’re looking for and you need help?” He lowered his voice even further. “I can be there for you, pay a few of your bills, keep you on top on things.”
Fire seemed to be consuming her from the inside out. “You told me you loved me.”
“I do love you,” he whispered. “But I love Sally, too. And my kids. You know that. I can’t blow up everything I’ve established in my life because of your guilty conscience.”
He wasn’t making any sense to her. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. Where was the Drew who’d been sensitive and kind? Funny? The most congenial of the partners? Apparently, he’d only shown her what she’d wanted to see in order to gain her interest—and now she was getting a taste of the man behind the front. “You love me, your wife and your family.”
