One Night Standards(25)
“I never told Mark anything about Diva Nation,” Sophie said, hoping to pierce through her mother’s wall of sadness. “Whatever else happened, we didn’t lose because of my…involvement with him.”
Her mother looked at her once, a mournful look, but didn’t say anything.
Sophie’s anger warred with the guilt that was threatening to suffocate her. “Mom, it’s not over yet. And we didn’t lose the account because I was sleeping with Mark McMann!”
“No, we didn’t lose the account,” her mother finally said, as the cab stopped in front of their hotel. “You lost the account, Sophie.”
Sophie felt the rebuke like a slap. Lydia paid the cabbie, and Sophie followed her mother at a run. Her mother pounded the elevator button then crossed her arms.
“It wasn’t the greatest idea,” Lydia interjected, “but it wasn’t her fault, Mom. It was one of those things.”
“One of those things?” their mother asked, bewildered. “Just ‘one of those things’ is a run in your stocking. This was deliberate stupidity.”
“Mom,” Sophie protested.
“You would take her side, Lydia,” her mother continued. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know what happened to either of you. I certainly didn’t raise you this way.” She glowered. “It must be your father. He was selfish, too.”
“Hey, whoa, wait a minute,” Lydia said, putting her hands up. “I wasn’t screwing the competition, here.”
“Lydia!”
“Sorry, Sophie,” Lydia added. “You know what I meant.”
Sophie felt like tearing out her hair in frustration. When the three of them were in the elevator, she repeated, in a soft voice, “Mom, what happened with Mark really didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“You honestly believe that, don’t you?” Her mother shook her head. “You think that being infatuated with the man you’re competing against didn’t make you lose your edge? They play dirty over there, and I needed you to be just as tough as they were.” She paused, looking at Sophie with derision. “They must have seen you coming a mile away.”
“I’m not stupid.” Sophie felt tears edging out of her eyes, and she wiped them carefully with her fingertips.
“You slept with a man who was directly competing with you,” her mother countered quietly. “You chose to let your focus go. You weren’t even discreet about it.” The elevator doors opened, and her mother stepped out. “If that wasn’t stupid, Sophie, I don’t know what is.”
“That’s not fair.” Sophie crossed her arms. “I worked my hardest on this. I put in long hours, I did the research, I did everything I possibly could. And maybe we lost, but I tried.”
“Yeah. You tried.” Her mother threw her purse down on the hotel-room bed. “And yet your lover will get the account. Tell me, do you really think he’s going to see you again after he wins it?”
Sophie felt a pang. The question had crossed her own mind.
He said he was falling in love with me. But did he mean it?
Her mother rubbed at her temples. “Sophie, talking about this won’t help any. I am too angry with you to speak to you, and it’s not going to be better. So be silent, or get out of here.”
Sophie felt something inside of her snap. “Mom, all my life, you’ve been the logical one. The disciplinarian. The one who always told us what to do and when we weren’t good enough…”
Her mother sat down on the bed, next to her purse. “I am too tired for this, Sophie. I do not want to have to go into a ‘why Sophie’s life is terrible’ conversation. This wasn’t about you. This was about me!”
“It’s still about you!” Sophie stood in front of her mother, her heart racing in her chest. “You saw how many hours I put into this. You saw what I sacrificed to make this happen!”
“Obviously not enough!”
“Even if I hadn’t slept with Mark, we wouldn’t have won the account!”
Her mother stared at her as if she’d been slapped. “That’s a lie,” her mother said, her voice shaking. “The products were impeccable. The only way Trimera could win was by playing dirty….”
“Which they would have done anyway,” Sophie pointed out. “Whether I was with Mark or not. We don’t have the money to fight them, Mom. It was a long shot, and I’m proud we made it as far as we did!”
“You’re merely trying to justify what you did,” her mother railed. “You’re making excuses for your behavior….”
“You know what? It was a bad choice to sleep with Mark. But I will say this—I didn’t do a single thing that I’m not proud of.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “You’re proud of sabotaging our chances?”
“I’m proud of the work I did, and I’m proud of loving Mark.”
There. She’d said it. She couldn’t believe she’d admitted it out loud, but it was too late to take it back, and she was filled with enough righteous anger that she wouldn’t have taken it back given the opportunity.
“Love?” Her mother’s scorn was evident. She got to her feet. “You are stupid, if you believe that!”
Sophie stood her ground.
“So that’s it, then.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ve chosen an outsider, some man, over your own family. Well, that’s fine.”
“It doesn’t have to be an exclusive choice, Mom,” Sophie said, the tears she was seeing bothering her more than any of her mother’s hurtful words. “I didn’t choose him over you guys.”
“Get out.”
“Mom?”
“Get out!” Her mother opened the door. “You think that your choices don’t have consequences? Well, if you’re so proud of what you did, and you love this man so much, then go stay with him!”
“Mom,” Lydia interrupted. “Come on. You don’t mean that. You’re upset….”
“You’re damned right I’m upset, Lydia, and you stay out of this! This is between your sister and me!”
Sophie grabbed her roller bag from its place in the corner of the room. “Fine. I’ll leave.”
“Mom, Sophie, this is crazy,” Lydia said. “It’s just business, after all!”
Her mother did not budge from her place at the open door, continuing to hold it open. Sophie rolled past her. “I am sorry,” she said.
Her mother didn’t respond, so Sophie kept on walking.
Lydia followed after her. “Mom doesn’t mean it,” Lydia tried. “She’s angry, you know how much this meant to her….”
“I screwed up,” Sophie replied. “But I didn’t deserve that.”
“I know.”
They walked in silence for a second, until they got to the elevator. “So what are you going to do?” Lydia asked.
Sophie was wondering that, herself. “I’ll think of something.”
“Mom will probably try to change flights, get out of here tonight instead of tomorrow, cancel the hotel room.” Lydia sounded concerned.
“I’ll stay on tomorrow’s flight.” No sense in continuing the family dramatics while trapped on a cross-country flight, after all. “And I’ll stay somewhere else tonight.”
“With Mark?”
Sophie closed her eyes. She didn’t know if it was making things worse, but she needed to find out if he still meant what he’d said: that he was falling in love with her.
I’m not choosing him over my family, she told herself doggedly. I’m choosing my own life. I did my best—now, I need to see if this has a chance.
MARK WAITED IMPATIENTLY. After Simone’s snide remark, he was debating with himself how he could convince Sophie to forgive him and to continue their relationship. Then, out of nowhere, she’d called him, asking if she could stay at his apartment. He’d agreed willingly, thinking it was the perfect opportunity for them to get some things hashed out.
If everything works out, he thought, I could have it all. The account…the girl. Everything. It was almost too much to hope for.
Mark opened his door to find Sophie there, looking wrecked. Her makeup was mostly rubbed away, presumably from crying. She looked young, tired and vulnerable.
“Oh, God, Sophie. What happened?”
“Can I come in?” she asked instead, in a small voice.
“Of course.” He took her roller bag and ushered her inside, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“I don’t drink much ordinarily,” she said, then barked out a short, bitter laugh. “But today’s far from ordinary. Sure, I’ll have a shot of whatever you’ve got.”
He guided her to his sofa, then quickly fetched her a short glass of scotch. “It’s all I’ve got in the house,” he offered.
He expected her to sip it. Instead, she took a manful slug of it, coughing explosively afterward. “Thanks,” she said when she regained her breath.
“Okay, talk to me.” He sat next to her, taking the glass from her hands and putting it on the coffee table, out of her reach. “This isn’t because of the damned Marion & Co. account, is it?”