I’m fucking stupid.
I’d tell them to break things off slowly, but to get out of the situation as quickly and harmoniously as possible and then not get into it again. I’d probably call them reckless and rash a few times for good measure.
Yet, when I open my eyes and all I see is her, I know it’s not going to be that easy. I need her help.
Chuckling, I roll my eyes. I’m so lying to myself.
When I imagine her smile, I know I’m screwed. And when I remember that she’s with another guy, I know I’m in way over my head and I have to get out of it before I drown. I have to regain control. I need this on my terms.
Wheeling my chair around, I open her email from earlier. My fingers begin clicking the keys.
* * *
To: Mallory Sims, Administrative Assistant
From: Graham Landry, CEO
Re: Employment
Dear Ms. Sims,
Due to recent events, I’m declining your request for termination of employment with Landry Holdings. You are expected to be at your desk by eight o’clock on Monday morning.
Mr. Landry
* * *
“That’s it,” I say, shuffling the papers until the full Gulica Insurance file is on top. This quote is our coup, a rate nearly a third of all other competitors without having to resubmit our financials. It’s huge for Ford, cutting his start-up costs in half.
I stretch my arms overhead. Picking up my glass, the last swallow of an Old-fashioned in the bottom, I carry it through the house and into the kitchen.
The sky is dark as I peer out the window over the sink. My stomach rumbles, protesting the cluster of nerves that’s been wound in it all evening. Half of my attention has been on Landry Security, the other half on Mallory.
The glass hits the bottom of the sink with more of a thud than strictly safe. Both hands grasping the ledge of the farmhouse ceramic, I bow my head.
It feels like I’m torn in half, part of me living the life I know and the other being pulled away by some crazy need. Need for what, I don’t know. I’ve never had this problem before. I’m great at tuning out the noise and focusing. It’s my forte. If only I could focus right now on what I should. Namely, not her.
There’s nothing clean about this. As a matter of fact, it’s so fucking tangled that I can’t manage to straighten it out no matter how much I try.
“Hello?” I say, answering my phone after the second ring.
“Hey, Graham. It’s Camilla.”
“You avoid my calls left and right and then call me randomly on a Friday night. If you called to tell me you’ve gotten yourself in trouble, I really don’t want to hear it tonight, Camilla.”
She laughs through the phone. “I’m not in trouble.
I was just seeing how your week went.”
Spinning around, I let my back rest against the marble counter. It feels good against the scratches in my skin from Mallory’s heels.
Just like that, I’m fighting a hard-on.
“Graham?”
“I’m here. Just getting a drink,” I lie. “This week went well. Should it have?” I give her a second to consider where I’m going with this.
“Mallory said she offered to quit today.”