I spoke a string of words with my mouth gaping open and the wind knocked out of my lungs. Well, at least I thought I said something intelligent. My brain refused to reply again and again—like a stalled car. The engine wouldn’t turn over. Outside of the cheap wall clock’s tick, it was quiet. Even it didn’t function with a broken second hand that constantly quivered at 39 seconds, never quite able to make it to 40. I often wondered if it were purposely placed in my office by Price as a joke. It was The Little Engine That Couldn’t.
“Are you still there?” Daveigh asked.
“I…I think so.” Fortunately, I was seated. Numbness coursed through my arms and legs.
A flurry of emotions swilled and sloshed through my stomach like the morning after too many frozen margaritas at a sorority party. Nausea. Sadness. Regret. Pain. Confusion. All of those feelings should’ve been present, but they faded within seconds of crossing my mind. They were the reasonable and expected reactions to have when someone died. One sentiment took hold within me above all others though. As much as I didn’t want to admit it aloud because it’d make me sound like a cruel bitch, I was mostly relieved.
Silence.
“Say something,” Daveigh said. “He had a massive stroke, and Mommy found him in the garage by the deep freezer, next to that nudie poster on the wall.”
“Give me a second here to process. You dropped a bomb on me.”
“There isn’t time to assess your feelings. You have to come here and—”
“Whoa! Back your fantasy train up for a sec, ‘Veigh. I’m not coming to Steele Falls,” I said. “Huh uh. No way.”
“But there’ll be a funeral. You’ll be the only sibling who won’t—”
“And there’ll still be a funeral without me. Look, I’ve spent too long moving on from everything that happened there, and I’m not about to relive all of it by coming back to attend that man’s burial.”
“That man was your dad, Blue. You have to come,” Daveigh said. “It’s all written into the will. If you aren’t here when the lawyer meets with Mommy on Wednesday, you won’t get anything.”
“Step.”
“What?” she over-enunciated the ‘t’.
“Step-father. He wasn’t my dad, and I’ll never refer to him as that.”
“Whatever. He raised you since you were a toddler.”
“Raised is a stretch. If you call teaching me how to cheat at blackjack or how to cure a hangover after a Friday night bender or how to swing punches ‘raised’, sure. He raised me. I don’t want anything of his,” I said matter-of-factly, leaning back in the chair with my arms folded. “Not a damn thing.”
“You don’t get it. Quit sitting there with your arms crossed, being stubborn. No one will get anything if one of us isn’t there. Not Mommy. Not me. Not Finn. No one. This thing’s wrapped with enough shiny, red tape to make Santa jealous.”
I pursed my lips and unfolded my arms, annoyed Daveigh could peg how I was positioned from miles away. “This ‘thing’? What are you talking about? Washington’s a community property state. Mom gets everything. Game over.”
More silence. It was becoming an unwanted theme.
I felt my tone souring further. “Hello?”
“Look. I really didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but I don’t think you’ll believe me or come home unless I tell you the truth.”
“What truth?” I sat up in my chair and fiddled with the desk calendar, my heart racing in my chest. Could she possibly know? “What on earth could make me drop everything to come back?”
“Mommy and Daddy weren’t ever married. Daddy kept most of his money separated from her, and—”
“What do you mean they were never married?” I asked, tension releasing from my shoulders. It wasn’t the disaster I expected her to uncover. In other news, my sister was delusional with her psychobabble.
“I mean, a wedding didn’t happen. Have you ever seen a picture of a white dress? First dance? Smashing cake in each other’s faces? Giant after party?”
“Well, no, but the rings…”
“Think about it. Anyone can wear a piece of jewelry on their finger and get their name changed. Hell, I could go buy a cheap hunk of metal, change my name, and preach to the world I’m married to you today. No one would know the truth.”
“Please don’t. That’s weird.”
“I’m not going to actually do it, but I’m trying to make a point,” she replied.
“Well, it’s still community property, and after seven years—”
“Washington isn’t common law. The majority of his assets are all out of state. They’re in another woman’s name, and everything has to go through her. Plus, Mommy’s married. There are so many fucking complications with this situation that—”
“Hold on. We’ve moved from the fantasy train over to the merry-go-round. Stop the carousel. I’m dizzy and need to get off. You said they weren’t married. Now, they are?”
“Exactly. ‘They’ weren’t. But she was married to that other wackadoo when she was eighteen.”
“You mean my birth father?” I asked with a monotone voice.
“Yeah, him. And you know how he took off with that bimbo door-to-door makeup saleswoman from Idaho? Well, Mommy never bothered to pursue a divorce.”
“Why wouldn’t she? She hates Shane as much as I do,” I said.
“Um. You do know Mommy, right? Pretty sure that’s not a topic that’d ever come up in any conversation. Like ever.”
As crazy as the whole scenario sounded, she was correct about that part. My mother would never admit any wrongdoing to her children. It wasn’t her style. Anything shady and questionable was skirted around with explosions of festive glitter and vibrant rainbows shooting out of her ass. All in the name of maintaining her gleaming image.
My mouth went dry as I thought of the arguments with my step-father, temporarily allowing the news from Daveigh to fall by the wayside. The screaming fits. The throwing. The drinking. The gambling. All of it. The numerous times my mom threw herself pity parties when she thought she was alone, saying she’d wanted to leave, but couldn’t because she’d lose everything. Lies. When you’ve got nothing to lose, nothing from nothing is still…nothing. I could finally see through that ridiculous façade of glitter and rainbows. She couldn’t handle being alone or risk having her notch on the political ladder get knocked down a peg or two.
Suddenly, I remembered I was still at work when Gloria’s laugh tittered down the hall, breaking the silence like a shrieking banshee. The room felt too hot. Too small. Too constricting. “Daveigh, I’ve got to go.”
“Wait. Are you coming? I want to tell Mommy whether—”
“I said I have to go.” I ended the call with the press of a button.
Shock took hold of me by the throat with spindly fingers and razor-sharp nails, gripping tighter and tighter with each attempted breath I took. All of it was so unexpected. I’d spent plenty of time forgetting the past and shoving it away, but all it took was a few words from my baby sister to bring everything to the surface again. Part of me was tired, so exhausted from enduring the fight. And at that moment, I’d officially had enough. I cracked. Broken.
With shaky hands, I turned off my computer monitor, picked up my purse, and forced myself to walk down the hall to Cash’s office. He was on the tail end of a phone conversation, using his signature, fake laugh as he admired himself in a full-length mirror. His gaze flicked to me in the reflection for a brief moment.
I waited at the doorway and cleared my throat when I saw him wink at himself and alternate flexing his biceps. Seriously?
Cash waved me in with a grandiose arm gesture as he set the phone back on its cradle. “Ms. Brennan, what do I owe the pleasure?” He paused as he looked at my wet clothing. “Did you have an accident?”
“No.” I sighed. “Don’t ask.” I partially closed the door behind me, leaving it open three inches so Cash wouldn’t get any ideas about a morning quickie. And I mean quickie. “It’s just…I need some time off.”
“Time off? Everything okay?” Cash furrowed his brow, concern spanning his face.
“Fine. I need to go home for a few days. Maybe a week.” Family wasn’t a topic I’d discussed with Cash in our arrangement, and he’d never asked because his tongue was too busy burying itself in my throat. The pronunciation of my sister’s name was as deep as it’d gone after he’d thought I was involved with a dude named Davy.
“If this is about the apartment crack I made this morning—”
“No, not my apartment ‘home’. My hometown. Steele Falls. Back in Washington.” Calling it my hometown made me grimace, as if I’d swallowed a dose of bitter medicine. That was how much I despised my roots. Part of me felt badly about lying to Cash. I had zero intention of hopping on a plane and flying to the little Podunk city, but I knew I needed a break. From reality. From work. From Cash and Price Jensen. From everything. Even if it meant hiding out under the covers in my Sacramento apartment for a few days with my two boyfriends, Ben and Jerry, and a case or three of boxed wine. I needed to find a way to reset myself. Being drunk and on a sugar-high for a week sounded like a legit way to medicate.
Cash tried to read me as he stroked his clean-shaven chin.
“It’s no big deal. Really. Family matter. I should be back by next Friday. Monday at the latest.”
“N…next Friday?” Cash sounded surprised as he stumbled over the words.
“Yeah,” I replied. “You know, it’s that day of the week that comes after Thursday. Do we need to review a calendar again?”
“Blue, we should talk.” He leaned back against his desk and let a deep breath out through his nose as he slid his hands into the pockets of his designer slacks. “It’s not a good time because—”
“Look, I’ve never missed a day, I’ve bent over backward for this company, and I haven’t taken any vacation time since I started working here. There’s more than a month of leave racked up in my account. All I’m asking for is a few days and some understanding. Please?”
A pregnant pause loomed. “You’ve made some valid points.” Then, the conversation curved like a fucking boomerang. “But what’s Mini Cash going to do without you?” He gestured toward his dick for the second time that day. Well, it was the second instance I’d taken note of. After a while, I’d become immune to a lot of his innuendoes.
“You make it sound like I’m leaving permanently.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sure you and your right hand are well-acquainted and can make magic happen.”
“It doesn’t set the same mood when you’re not there.” He pouted.
“Light some candles. Play some Marvin Gaye. Watch some lesbian porn,” I said. “Figure it out.”
“Okay. You win.” He chuckled and held his hands up, palms out in a gesture of defeat. “Do me a favor though? Make sure you check in with Price on your way. He’s got a nine o’clock, but you can still catch him in his office. I’m stepping out for an early lunch.”
“It’s eight forty-five in the morning.” I scrutinized his face. “Did your appetite suddenly move to Florida where it’s three hours later?”
“The stomach wants what it wants. Today, it’s begging for a pastrami on rye from twenty miles away.” Cash smiled. “Now, kiss me goodbye like you mean it.”
“Not a wise idea with Price down the hall and the door open.” I reached out to shake his hand.
Cash turned down my request and crossed his arms. I knew it was another instance of him not taking “no” for an answer.
With as much emotion as I could muster, I replied, “Fine. We can go to that dumb sushi restaurant when I get back.”
“Atta girl.” Cash licked his lips. “Then, we’ll hit up my place for some muffin stuffin’.”
“Uh huh. Can’t wait.” Paranoid Gloria was in earshot, I was cautious of my words as I told Cash a rushed and platonic goodbye, making my way down to Price’s office.
As usual, the entryway was cold, both in temperature and in mood. Price’s office had always been the most sterile in the building, even more so than the surgery suites. White walls. White furniture. White floor. Not a drop of color existed in the room outside of the man himself. Like he wanted to be under the spotlight, the main focal point. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Jensen?”
A man looked up at me from his desk as I knocked on the open door. He looked like Cash, but a lot older and with a lot less hair. Same icy blue eyes. Same suntanned skin. Same muscular physique. But the receding hairline and valleys of wrinkles spreading near his eyes? They were the dead giveaways, swapping his youth for sophistication and power. Cash was only two years younger than Price, but that one extra percent of the company’s ownership aged him physically by more than a decade.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.
“Oh, great! You’re here. I was hoping to talk to you too,” Price said as he folded his hands and rested them on top of his desk. “How are you holding up with the news?”
“Um. Fine?” I arched an eyebrow in panic. How does he know about my step-father?
“Thank God. Are you sure?” He rubbed his face, his diamond-crusted wedding ring sparkling beneath the fluorescent bank of lights above. “I thought you’d be upset. I mean, I wouldn’t be okay…”
I bit my lip and studied his face.
“Wait,” he stretched out the word. “Have you talked to Cash yet today?”
I hiked my thumb over my shoulder. “I just came from his office; he’s leaving. I told him I need to deal with a family emergency back home.”
“Oh, good.” His shoulders slumped as he let out a deep breath. “I’m glad he explained everything to you. It couldn’t have come at a better time. Right?”
“A better time? Since when is it a good time for someone… What are you talking about?”
“You know. The layoff.”
I didn’t need a mirror to see my blank expression.
Price’s furry eyebrows squished together into one elongated caterpillar as he took a few seconds to put together what happened. It was a domino effect. Next, he ground his teeth and his face reddened, the giant vein in his forehead protruding as an epic finale. “That fucking son of a bitch. Cash didn’t tell you, did he? I asked him to do one task today. One task!”
“What’s Mini Cash going to do without you?”
It started to make sense. I thought the wording was bizarre considering I’d only be gone a week. Plus, his sudden desire for a heavy, morning sandwich wasn’t like him. I’d officially assigned “coward” as one of my latest descriptors for him. Maybe there weren’t enough thumbs and pinkies on the planet to have Cash remain on my elite “ten fingers and ten toes” plan. “Pastrami on rye. Yeah, right,” I muttered under my breath.
Price cocked his head to the side. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” I pursed my lips in a thin, tight line. “No. He didn’t say a word about that. So, let me get this straight. You’re firing me?”
“Well, technically we’re laying you off.”
I let out a slow and frustrated breath. “I’ve been here for more than a year now, nearing two. I have a perfect attendance record, and I’ve jumped through flaming hoops to make you happy. Literally. Flaming hoops. Don’t you remember the company picnic?”
“Blue, don’t make this harder on me than it already is.”
“Hard on you? I’m the one losing my job here! The practice is thriving. I’ve seen the numbers. Who else is being canned?” My nostrils flared.
“Today? We only needed to let one person go.”
“Wait a damn minute. You’re keeping that gorilla at the front desk and firing me?” My eyes bulged. “She hides in the supply closet and stuffs her face with cupcakes and miniature pies while the phone rings off the hook. One of your patients waited at the front desk for thirty minutes last week because Gloria said she had to finish off her two-liter of cola before she’d sign them in.”
Price held up his index finger in the air as he corrected me. “Ah, ah, ah. We’re laying off here, not firing. And Gloria has issues with low blood sugar. You know that. Plus, we’re skirting around the topic.”
“Why? What did I do that was so wrong?”
“Your position has been eliminated due to…cutbacks. Gloria answers phones and greets patients. You work on special projects. The two are like comparing bananas,” he gestured toward me with an open palm and then pointed in the direction of the reception area, “and watermelons.”
“You can say that again,” I muttered.
“Look, I’m offering you a severance package that rivals—”
Thinking back, I should’ve accepted it graciously, but rage roiled through my stomach. Every unreasonable request. Every unattainable project deadline. Every unpaid hour of overtime. It all bubbled up and over at once. “Fuck your severance, Price. This is unbelievable,” I said through gritted teeth as I headed toward the door.
“Ms. Brennan!” his voice held an air of authority and demanded obedience.
My shoulders drooped, and I suddenly felt like a puppy who’d peed on the rug when the back door was open and only two feet away. From past conversations I’d overheard, I knew that authoritative tone well. I’d done the forbidden and crossed a clearly-marked boundary.
Why am I letting this man make me feel ashamed?
I spun around, refusing to let him know I cared. “What?”
“Do you want me to be honest with you?”
I awaited his answer.
“There were no cutbacks.”
“What does that mean?”
He held a piece of paper out to me. A sticky note was affixed to the top with my first name and my signature scribbled in blue ink next to an x at the bottom. “Here. It’s still warm from the copy machine in HR.”
“What’s this?” I stomped across the room and ripped it out of his hand. My cheeks reddened as I scanned the single page of legal mumbo jumbo, a section circled with yellow highlighter.
“Is this document familiar to you? It should be. You signed it on your hire date,” he said. “A few minutes ago, you asked what you did that was so wrong. It wasn’t ‘what’ you did. It was ‘who’ you did.”
Oh, shit. Shit! Shit! Shit! That’s why he made me feel mortified. It was warranted! Message received, loud and clear, boss man. My toes curled up in my shoes as I looked at the intricate autograph on the bottom. It was mine. He knew.
“You should’ve paid more attention to page thirty-three of the handbook, which is now in your possession. I’ll help you out a little in layman’s terms. Paragraph seven. Sentence two. It’s against company policy to fuck your boss, on or off company time. Cash may be too much of a pretty boy to think I’d never act on it, but you, Blue? Come on. You’re smarter than this.”
His tone felt parental, and I wanted to melt into the floor.
“You’re damn lucky I’m not firing you and ruining your reputation for the next company who considers bringing you on. So, it’d be in your best interest to accept my generous severance package. If you play your cards right and leave before I have to call security, my letter of recommendation will arrive in your mailbox next week.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. There was nothing left to say. No rebuttal. No argument. Backing out of the corner was beyond impossible—I’d fucked up.
“Now, get out.” His focus went back to a stack of papers on the desk, and it was like I didn’t exist. The silence spoke volumes as an invisible door slammed. In a much different way than Cash, he’d dismissed me without my needing to leave the room. Price’s version didn’t involve a swift getaway to a diner where a sweaty man with yellow pit stains sold smelly meat sandwiches. Yet, the finality felt the same.
I was on display, figuratively naked as humiliation filled me from head to toe. One fact was certain. Nothing could overshadow the rage consuming me, even if it were aimed at Cash. Price just happened to be my target. I slammed his door shut behind me. A picture fell from the wall, its glass pane shattering when it met the floor. For all I cared, Gloria could clean up the mess. After all, she was still getting a paycheck.
With tunnel vision, I stormed to my office, passing by Justine on my way. She gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t bother to slow down. An empty box of rubber gloves on the shelf of a nearby supply closet was spacious enough for my meager number of belongings. If being canned were an Olympic sport, I’d have taken the gold in packing up. It took less than one minute to jam an orange, a small day planner, and my magic 8-ball inside. Done. Giving the room one last glance, I turned off the light. Sayonara, spreadsheets. Vindictiveness tapped me on the shoulder and whispered sweetly into my ear. At the last second, I went over to my computer monitor and cleared the contents from the months-long project I’d been working on for Price and hit ‘save’. The IT guru could likely retrieve them all with a few simple keystrokes, but the spiteful and childish action made me feel a fraction better. Minutes later, I did my walk of shame through the lobby of Jensen & Jensen, a pathetic number of knickknacks tucked underneath my arm, rolling around inside the near-empty box.
“I heard the great news! It’s like Christmas came early! Someone, get me a growler of rum with a splash of eggnog.” Gloria grinned as she clapped excitedly. “I’d say I’m gonna miss you and we should exchange numbers to keep in touch, but we both know that’s not true.”
I sneered at her. “I hope you choke on your next box of donuts, Gloria.”
“Bye, bye.” Gloria waved and wiggled her fingers in a dramatic gesture with a sugarcoated grin, flipping me the bird with her other hand. “Don’t let the door hit your scrawny ass on the way out.” The smile slipped from her face.
I walked out to the parking garage and kicked the tire of my hatchback before I got in. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Daveigh’s words about money resonated. Rent was due, my car payment was due, and my utility bills were due. And I had a broken taillight on my growing expenditure list. I needed cash…and not Cash Jensen.
Whether I liked it or not, I was pinned in a tough spot. Until that moment, I had no intention of going back home to Steele Falls, but being laid off changed things. Fired. Laid off. Whatever Price decided my fate should be with my hasty exit. I needed time to think, but I already knew what had to happen. Every avenue, regardless of my excuse, would point me in the same direction on the map. North. There was only one answer to my problems, and I hoped it wasn’t going to create a dozen more. A trip to Steele Falls to face the demons of my past was on the table for discussion.