Chapter 35

Mark

My ringing phone was my alarm clock.

“Hello?” I said, answering it without looking at who was calling.

“Dr. Sawyer, what are your comments on your new fling?”

I stared at the phone for a minute. It was an unknown number.

“Mr. Sawyer,” the nasal voice pressed, “Who is the identity of this mystery woman?”

I hung up. A glance at my phone had my pulse rocketing up. Forty-seven missed calls. Forty-seven. And about twenty new texts. Texts like, “TNT News Agency would like an interview with you. If interested please call 576-989-8723”.

I clicked open an internet browser tab. I searched my name, ‘Mark Sawyer,’ and then my heart fell to the pit of my chest. There it was—not one article about me, but ten. And not just about me, either. I clicked on one and there it was, on the top of the page. A picture of Brooke kissing me—and Jake. The title of the Provincial Inquirer read, “Who is Teller-Sawyer’s New Fling?” The article went on to make a bunch of ridiculous conjectures about Brooke’s identity—including that she was a Russian mail-order bride, a Slovakian escort and, most plausibly, a former patient.

I called Jake.

“Check the internet,” I told him.

“I just saw it,” he said in a tired voice, “I was about to call you.”

“Well, fuck man!” I exhaled sharply. “This was exactly what we were worried about. What are we going to do now?”

Jake paused.

“I think we should just wait it out,” he said finally, “I mean you and I are in this for the long run, right?”

“Hell yes,” I said, without hesitation.

“So, we’ll just go to work like normal and hope it just blows over. You know how news is, every other day, there’s a new ‘hot’ story. People get bored easily. They’ll probably forget about this after a week at most.”

I breathed out in relief.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I was just flipping out here. There’s something about seeing your face on the front of Provincial Inquirer that makes you a bit crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” Jake said, “I just finished consoling my mom, trying to convince her that I’m not destroying my career with pointless debauchery.”

Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Knowing your mom, you probably actually had to use the word ‘debauchery,’ didn’t you?”

I smiled, thinking of the pale powdered woman, with her pearls and furs, and the aristocratic tilt of her chin. A proud snooty bitch to the last, even after Jake’s dad had run out on them.

Jake sighed, although I could hear the smile in his voice.

“I sure did. Anyway, I just prevented her from having an aneurysm by promising it was photo shopped. In a week or so, I’ll have her meet Brooke herself—she’ll see just why I’m willing to do anything for her.”

“Man, for once I’m real glad I don’t have any relatives to answer to,” I said.

“Don’t remind me,” Jake said, “I still haven’t returned my aunt’s calls.”

“Anyway, what are we going to do about Brooke?” I asked.

“I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail,” Jake said, a note of worry in his voice now, “Do you think she saw them?”

“Hell, I hope not,” I said, “Here, hang on. I’ll try now.”

I tried calling Brooke, but both calls took me straight to voicemail.

Back on the line with Jake, I told him, “Couldn’t reach her. So, what should we do about Brooke? Just meet her at work?”

“I don’t see what else we can do,” Jake said.

“Okay,” I said, “See ya. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Good luck to you, too,” he said, “We’ll need it.”

Chuckling darkly, he hung up.

Turned out Jake was off the mark. Maybe the paparazzi didn’t think our story worthy of actual staking-out harassment, just phone harassment. Whatever the reason, when I left my house, there was no paparazzi, nor was there any as I pulled into work. Jake’s car wasn’t there, but I didn’t wait. I headed upstairs immediately.

At the front desk, Deidre was eyeing me with a wary look. Both phones were off the hook.

“She’s in the office,” she said, with a sad darting look in that direction.

I hurried in and found her. Brooke was balled-up on the office chair, her legs pressed to her chest with her arms around them. Her eyes were squeezed shut, while her pink cheeks with covered in tears. I threw my arms around her.

“Brooke, I’m here now. It’s going to be okay.”

She shuddered out another sob, peeking open one red-rimmed eye to look at me.

“How did they—find out so—fast?”

Another strangled sob. I moved her head so it was resting on my chest. Then, I softly stroked her hair.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to get through this, okay?”

Into my chest, she shook her head.

“No. This is just what I was afraid of.”

As she exhaled another wet sob into my shirt, Jake strode in.

“Oh Brooke,” he said, his face crumpling at the sight of her.

Sitting down on the floor beside her chair, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” he said, “But it’s going to be alright. Mark and I are here for you. We’ll all weather this together.”

Wiping at her eyes again, Brooke lifted her head. She spoke in a shaky warbling voice.

“What I don’t understand—is how this could happen? I never saw anyone—not all the times we were together.”

“I did,” Jake said.

Brooke and I turned to gape at him at the same time.

“What?!”

His head still hung, he spoke.

“I thought I was just being paranoid. But that time we were walking to lunch, I saw a man ducking into a convenience store. Then, another time in the parking lot, I thought I saw a man disappear around the corner. I figured he was just a maintenance man.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” I sputtered, eyeing him incredulously.

Jake lifted his head, his brow furrowed with frustration.

“Of course I did! I just thought it was my overactive imagination. I’m a worrier, Mark, you know that. We were all so happy—I didn’t want to worry you two unnecessarily.”

Her face trembling, Brooke rose to her feet.

“Yes, we were happy. But now what?” She cast a miserable look at me, then at Jake. “I’m going to take another mental health day. If this doesn’t call for one, then I don’t know what does.”

“Wait—Brooke,” Jake said, grabbing her arm, “They still don’t know your identity. You could get off scot-free.”

She ripped it free, scoffing.

“C’mon. How long do you think it’s going to take for them to put two and two together? All they have to do is talk to Deidre or anyone at the restaurants we went to. We’re fucked, don’t you get that?”

I looked at Jake, worried she was taking this so badly.

She shook her head sadly, collapsing back onto the chair.

“I never told you what that terrible ex-boyfriend of mine did, did I?”

Before we could answer, she continued. “At first, he just called and threatened me, showed up at places I liked to go to. I thought that was that—little did I know how wrong I was.”

She took a shaky breath, then continued, “I found out through Patrick, a mutual friend. How Howlin was passing around pictures of me that we’d taken together. At first, I thought they had to be fake, photo shopped, that it couldn’t be true. I’d never agreed to take that kind of pictures with him. And then,” her voice wobbled, “I remembered.”

“It had been one drunk silly night. He’d had an empty camera, and I didn’t have any clothes on. He’d say, do this pose, and I did it. He told me there was no film in the camera, and like an idiot, I believed him. I’d almost forgotten about that night, since we’d never talked about it again. Little did I know how much that mistake would come to haunt me.”

She brushed a chunk of hair that was plastered to her forehead aside.

“Howlin sent the pictures to everyone. And not just mutual friends—he sent them to every number he had I swear—even my mom’s. Howlin laughed when I begged him to delete them, saying I’d gotten what I deserved and even if he did, they’d be out there forever. Those pictures haunted me. They were there as girls whispered while I passed by. They were there whenever I’d talk to a guy and he would smile that disgusting knowing smile. It was horrible. The shame was unbearable.

Impatiently, she brushed away more oncoming tears as she lifted her gaze to me.

“And now, now it’s happening all again. But worse—this isn’t some teenage mistake that people would forget. This is my real life—at my job. I’m an adult now. There’ll be no recovering from this.”

“Brooke,” I said, reaching for her arm.

She shook her head, getting up and backing away like a wounded animal.

“This is exactly what I’ve been fearing the whole time, don’t you see that? I saw just how many articles there were online, how many people were retweeting and sharing the story on Facebook. Now, my mom’s going to know—my whole family is going to know. My life is ruined. I need to be alone right now.”

Then she strode away. Jake cast a miserable look at me and I glared back at him.

“What the fuck, man? What were you thinking?”

Jake could only gaze back at me miserably.

“I’ve ruined everything.”

We sat there for a few minutes, glaring at each other.

“Uh Dr. Teller, Dr. Sawyer?” Deidre’s tentative voice came over the intercom.

“Yes, Deidre?” I asked.

“The phone’s ringing off the hook. There are people at the door who want in—patients and reporters. Oh, and I’m quitting.”

“What?!” I asked.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” she snapped back fiercely.

I raced out of the office, just in time to see her gathering her things, with her chin jutting in the air.

“Deidre!” I said.

“Goodbye, Dr. Sawyer!” she said, without looking at me.

And then she was gone. I took a long look around. Deidre had disconnected the phones, while the door was still erupting in knocks. I stormed back into the office and stopped in front of Jake.

“Get your ass up,” I said, “We’ve got work to do.”