“Now let’s get things straight,” she says with aggravation.
“Is Lucy Monroe still in my office?” I question either who will answer.
“No,” Corbin answers for them both.
“Good,” I return, ignoring the pang of guilt that twists my gut.
“You don’t mean that,” Corbin says as he runs his hands through his hair, takes a seat, and makes a move to get comfortable.
“I do. She jumped my ass,” I claim as truth. “You were both there.”
“It’s not as though you didn’t deserve it, Michael. What you said was just plain mean,” Lillie counters. “And on her first day, too.” She tsks.
“We aren’t having this discussion. It’s over.”
“It’s not,” Corbin corrects. “Far from it. She’s already been hired.”
“Then un-hire her, damn it.”
“Fire her?” he asks. “Based on what? Her new boss being an asshole?”
“Stop it. Both of you,” Lillie warns as she adjusts herself in the seat across from where Corbin and I are sitting. “We sent her home after lunch. Corbin spent the rest of the morning with her, and I took her for a bite to eat before sending her on her way.”
“So you’ve become friends,” I presume. “How lovely for you both.”
“No, ass,” Corbin remarks. “It was an apology on your behalf. And also part of her orientation.”
“She was very upset, but by the time we finished lunch, she was over your snit.” I growl in frustration hearing Lillie label this as a ‘snit’. It wasn’t that. She dismisses my reaction and continues. “She said she saw things more…clearly,” Lillie explains.
“Oh yeah? And how ‘clearly’ was that?”
“She needs a job,” she breathes quietly.
The guilt hits me again. My words hurt Lucy deep, cut her hard, yet she’s willing to forgo the risk of having me do it again for a paycheck. My actions had forced her to choose whether or not taking a job with me would be better than unemployment.
Fuck, I’m an ass.
“What happened to the job she had?” I look at Corbin with my question, being that he’s the one who hired her.
“Lost it,” he answers. “She really enjoyed it, too. But it would’ve taken time away from her son and she refused to let that happen, so she quit.”
“I can talk to them. I can explain–”
Corbin smirks, so I stop talking. “She’s staying,” he tells me.
It’s unwarranted, given that I’ve only just met Lucy, but Corbin taking her back and acting protective in regards to her pisses me off. I was right when I told him he’s soft with women because he’s always been. But my feelings aren’t about that.
I don’t know what I’m feeling.
In response to my frustration, I start to stand in objection. Corbin looks up at me as though I don’t have a leg to stand on.
“Sit down, Michael Holden,” Lillie snaps out.
I hate when she uses my full name.
“Lillie…” I object again.
“Sit!” she snaps tersely, this time keeping my attention. If she were anyone else, I’d throw her out.
Corbin turns from Lillie to me and smirks. “So, like I said, Lucy stays. We’re keeping her, so you’re going to apologize for…being you.”
“That won’t happen.”
“It will,” he corrects. “We don’t have much time left with Lillie, you know that. This is how it’s going to play out.”
Lillie sends me an incredulous look, which reluctantly keeps me quiet before she adds insult to injury. “Should you be taking notes?”
“Thanks, Lil, but I think I’m good,” I snap back, earning another look of disdain.
“We’ll compromise. Two weeks. If Lucy doesn’t learn the job before Lillie leaves, we’ll cut her. We won’t ask Tyler to find her a position at Tryst, either. We’ll just let her go so you can go on keeping her as you have been…”
“Keeping her?” I interrupt.
Nodding once, his face holds serious as he repeats, “Keeping her.”
“Is that what you two think I’ve been doing?”
“It’s exactly what you’ve been doing,” Corbin replies first.
“What would you like us to call it?” Lillie chimes in with absurdity.
Standing up and walking to the kitchen, I grab the scotch and pour another drink. They each watch as I quickly down it and pour another.
“Getting drunk won’t make this go away,” Lillie tells me, crossing her legs, sitting back, and getting comfortable.
“Won’t it?” I down another for emphasis and grind my teeth together before setting the glass down.
Clenching my jaw and looking into the fireplace, I decide I’m done for today. Turning my gaze back to them, I shake off my anger the best I can.
“This intervention, or whatever the hell it is, is over. I’ll talk to Lucy. For two weeks, I’ll play nice.” I look at Lillie as I say the last word and find her expression blank. “But for now, we’re done.”
“Mike…” Corbin says with a low voice.
Lifting my finger in the air, desperate for silence, I say again, “We’re done.”
Lucy
“Mom! There’s someone at the door,” I hear my son call out over the noise of the vacuum.
I hadn’t been expecting visitors, but with Stella always coming and going for tea, and Shannan constantly dropping in unannounced, it isn’t surprising someone’s here. Maybe it’s my mother this time.
After leaving Lillie—whom I think I already love—at the restaurant this afternoon, I came home and decided that if my mother-in-law feels it necessary to stop in tomorrow morning as she did today, she’s going to find herself disappointed in being welcomed into a clean house.
I clean when I’m stressed. It helps to control my urge to scream and rant. My son recognizes this even at his young age, and usually leaves me to it. Sometimes he tries to help by picking up his toys left at random around our apartment.
I turn the vacuum off and walk to Dillon standing at my bedroom door. “I’ll be right there. Who is it?”
“Tell her it’s Michael Holden.” The deep voice resonates from the living room.
Oh shit.
Lillie had given me a brief, not-so-revealing run-down regarding my new boss. She described him as sullen, avoiding, and quiet. I then concluded these characteristics could be summed up with one word, not three.
Brooding.
She also said he’s incredibly private, which is why he’s chosen to remain a silent partner at Mercer Law, even though he’s equally invested.
Scanning over my appearance in my bedroom mirror, I’m offended at my own reflection. My dark blonde hair is thrown up in a makeshift bun on top of my head. My five foot, six inch frame is dressed no better than a bum.
When I got home, I had changed into an old pair of cut-off jean shorts and a tank top which reads ‘Disney Makes the World Go Round’ stretched across my genetically inherited, generous size C chest. I love this shirt. I wear it all the time, especially while cleaning. Obviously, my inner, little girl geek can’t always be denied.
“Mom?” Dillon interrupts my thoughts with a concerned expression. “He says he needs to talk to you.”
Deciding I’ll discuss opening the door to strangers later, I turn around in the mirror to get a better view of my back.
After already being judged once today by the man waiting in the other room, a pang of dread comes in not wanting to be exposed to him again…in my own home.
Before I realize who I’m asking, I glance down and into the dark eyes of a young boy who looks so much like his dad. “Do I look okay?”
“Yeah?” he answers with a question. “But he looks kinda cranky.”
“Who does?”
“The man waiting outside.”
“You didn’t let him in?”
“No,” he replies in a voice as stern as a six-year-old can muster. “You said no strangers in the house. He’s on the porch.”
When I look out my bedroom window, hoping to get a view of Michael standing there alone, my attention isn’t immediately drawn to him. My focus is on the rain coming down in buckets.
I’m not nearly as pissed off as I had been after leaving his office, although he’d be an idiot if he thought for a second he didn’t owe me a genuine apology. Before he even met me, knew my name, or knew where I came from, he judged.
Gabe was so easy. We got along with civility even while arguing. He rarely raised his voice, and when he did, it was only to calm me. Sometimes when he’d allow himself to get really angry, it made me laugh because it was so out of character. I don’t remember a time, even during our brief marriage, that I wanted to throat punch him. Michael Holden, though, incited that reaction from me, and I hated him for it.
“Go tell him I’ll be right there.” I lean down and kiss the top of his head quickly before pushing on his shoulder to move him out into the hall.
I smooth my shorts, then check my shirt. Once I’ve given my hair a quick tug to ensure it doesn’t fall, I turn to make my way into the living room.
Dillon obviously opened the door further to Michael because when I round the corner to the front room, I stopped in my tracks.