His Secretary:Undone(36)

When Shelly walks into the room, the whole atmosphere changes. Every  single dog's head perks up, and they're all looking at her, waiting for  instructions.

"Sit," she says, quietly, and they all do.

The woman is terrifying, and I love her.

"Meg, are you all right?" She comes over and lays her hand on my  shoulder. "You seem like you're a million miles away, sometimes."

Is it that obvious? I feel my ears start to burn. "I'm sorry. I'll try to focus better. I'm just … "

"No, no, no. You're not doing anything wrong." She sits down beside me.  "I'm just worried about you, that's all. If you ever want to talk, I'm  here."

"I know." Sighing, I look down at my hands in my lap. They're just  sitting there, inert, like they don't know what to do. It feels like  everything takes a special effort. Breathing. Thinking. Every muscle in  my body is particularly heavy and sluggish. "I got myself into kind of a  mess at my old job. I'm glad I left. Not that it was my choice. But I  think it was the right one, even if it seemed horrible at the time."         

     



 

"That job was definitely not good for you." Shelly nods. "I could see it  draining the life out of you, every time we ran into each other. But  you don't look any happier now, Meg. You still look like you're carrying  the weight of the world on your shoulders. Have you really left that  place behind?"

Of course I haven't. But how can I explain that, without confessing that  I slept with my boss? I don't want Shelly to know that about me. It  seems so juvenile, so ridiculous. I'm going to come across like the  delusional one - unable to accept that a guy who's so spectacularly out  of my league doesn't want to settle down and have babies with the likes  of me. No matter how much he likes the sex, I never should have mistaken  it for love.

It wasn't a mistake, though. I know it wasn't. He felt something and he  ran the fuck away from it. If that's how he's going to be, then I don't  want him in my life.

"It's hard to let go of the fantasy of somebody that you have in your  head, you know?" I say, finally. It doesn't make any sense out of  context, but with Shelly that seldom matters. "Even if you know they're  really not like that. It's like we just see bits and pieces, and our  brains fill in the rest with whatever we want to be there."

She's nodding. Once again, it seems like there's something she's not  saying, and I can't imagine what. Shelly seldom finds a reason to bite  her tongue.

"Well, whatever's going on, I know you're gonna be okay." She squeezes my shoulder. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."

I promise her that I will, but I can't imagine how anyone could help me at this point.





***

For some reason, my TV keeps ending up back on the financial channel.  It's all stuff I needed to know when I was working for Adrian, but it's  almost entirely irrelevant to my life now. All the same, I stay  informed. Whenever there's nothing better on, I learn about all the  latest mergers and acquisitions and wild speculation.

I'm just used to it, I suppose. It's like a lullaby at this point, or  Seinfeld reruns for anyone who grew up in the 90s. It's nice to know  there's at least one thing in the world that hasn't changed.

But Jim Cramer is really letting the spittle fly tonight. Something must  have happened. I didn't hear any air raid sirens, so it can't be all  that important, but I turn my attention to the screen all the same,  while I gather up my dishes.

" … so with this unprecedented move, what do you anticipate for the future?" one of the other talking heads is asking.

"You know, John - obviously we've seen things like this happen before,  big upsets like this, but ultimately I think this'll be a blip. Of  course it'll depend on the impression the new CEO leaves. But there's no  sign the company's been mismanaged before now. Ultimately I think  people are going to forget the name Adrian Risinger."

I don't drop the glass I'm holding, but thinking back on it, I'm not sure how the hell I managed that.

"It's a little early for a midlife crisis," someone else is saying.  "There's going to be suggestions - in fact, we're already seeing  implications that he might have stepped down because of some corruption  or an issue he otherwise doesn't want to deal with. And that's going to  be swirling through everyone's head when the markets open tomorrow."

With numb fingers, I type his name into the search on my phone. Five or  six news stories pop up immediately. There's a video. I don't want to  hit play, but I do.

"I've already commented on this … I've said everything I'm going to say.  It has nothing to do with Risinger Industries. I see a prosperous future  for them without me. This was never the right position for me, and I  was never the right man for the job. My only regret is that it took me  so long to realize it."

I sit down, mostly because my knees have stopped working.

He lived for that company. It's all he has. All he's ever had. And now he's just … walking away?

Panic is clawing at the inside of my throat, and I realize this whole  time I've been scared for him. I don't know how he can live without me,  and how's that for hubris? All along I've been writing him off as the  arrogant one, but I've grown to believe myself indispensable to him.

Clearly, I'm not.

Being Adrian's secretary was my whole identity. For five long years, it  was all I had. I didn't want to believe that I let it seep into me so  deeply, but I have. Adrian will be fine without me. He'll be fine  without the company. In fact, he'll probably go back to writing. He's a  man of many talents, unlike me. Unless dealing with an impossible people  is a talent. It doesn't seem to be coming in particularly handy now.         

     



 

Heartache keeps me awake that night, and I wish I could just forget  about it. His life and mine are no longer intertwined. In fact, I have  no plans to speak to him ever again.

And yet.

And yet.

***

When Shelly asks me if there's any possible way I can make it in a  little early on a Wednesday, I actually run it by my boss, and he says  of course I can. There's a truck coming with a massive load of donations  and they need all the help they can get to unpack and organize it.

I'm ready to spend a few hours embroiled in backbreaking labor, if it'll help me forget all the things I need to forget.

Even though I leave not too long after lunch, I'm still one of the last  volunteers in the group. It's a good turnout - Shelly always has a knack  for getting people to roll up their sleeves.

Walking up behind the little crowd, I see something that makes my heart slam into my ribcage.

It's not him. It's not him. IT CAN'T BE HIM.

Even knowing what I know, this is not the sort of thing Adrian would  turn out for. Hands-on work? He's more of a "write a check and forget  about it" kind of guy. But if that's not the back of his head,  incongruously sticking out of a strangely familiar looking tee-shirt,  then I will swallow my shoe.

I just stare. I've never seen him in jeans before. I've never seen him  casual before. I haven't seen him at all in so long, after seeing him  every weekday and way too many weekends for half a decade, and I think  my heart might explode.

"Adrian?" I half-whisper.

He turns around.

There's that classic just saw a ghost look in his eyes, but I can't stop  staring at his mouth, his jaw, because he's finally let that stubborn  stubble grow out, nothing crazy, less than half an inch of  carefully-groomed beard. It's just a shade darker than the hair on his  head, with more mottled golden-red mixed in. It suits him.

His shirt says: KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD

"Shelly told me you wouldn't be here," he says, softly.

"Shelly lied," says the woman herself, appearing from behind a pile of  boxes, dusting off her hands. "You two need to have a long conversation.  Meghan, please give him a chance. You can have my office. Adrian, go.  Tell her what you told me. So help me God, I don't care how much money  you donate, I'll drag you there by your ear if you give me any sass."

I'm staring at her. No wonder it was so urgent for me to work today. "What the hell is going on?"

She just shrugs. "I put the pieces together. I remembered you said you  were working for his company, so when he shows up all of a sudden, I had  a feeling there was a connection. It didn't take much prying to get the  whole sob story out of him, I'll tell you. Something about holding a  kitten just makes a man want to confess all his sins. I'm not saying you  have to forgive him, but I can't keep watching you two pine away for  each other. Work it out somehow, for all of our sakes."

I can't look at Adrian, don't want to, now, but he touches my arm.

"I think we'd better go," he says, with a hint of an apprehensive smile on his lips. "She scares me."

Numbly, with a ringing in my ears, I follow him. He sits down on the  edge of her desk, maybe because he doesn't want to mirror the way we  always used to speak to each other, and otherwise I would have  instinctively sat down in the visitor's chair, while he reclined behind  the desk.