Ian felt sick, physically ill, recounting the story to her. He’d wanted to spare her the details, protect her from the knowledge of what could have been a nightmare for her.
“That’s very sweet, Ian. But...”
“But?”
“But you should have talked to me. You should have told me what was really going on instead of saying, ‘Sorry, sweetheart. You’re not good enough for me.’”
“That’s not what I said. I said I’m your ‘superior’ because I am literally your ‘superior.’ That’s the word they use for a boss who oversees your work. Your ‘superior.’ I had the company lawyer telling me to find a reason to fire you, and I could have done it and you wouldn’t have had a legal leg to stand on. That’s too much power to have over the person you’re dating. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth. I wanted to protect you. That’s all. There’s my confession. Not a week goes by I don’t tell myself I made the wrong decision, although for the life of me, I don’t know what other choice I had.”
“You could have told me what was happening. You could have told me the entire truth. You could have mentioned to me that someone was blackmailing you and threatening to ruin your dad’s political career. I would have been upset, but I also would have been sympathetic. And I would have handled it my own way without getting lawyers involved.”
“What would you have done? Or do I not want to know?”
“I would have told everyone at work you and I slept together.”
“That’s how you would have handled it?”
“You can only blackmail someone over a secret. If it’s not a secret, then they can’t blackmail you, right?”
“True. Then again if you went around telling everyone at work about your sex life, you could have been fired for creating a hostile work environment.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Now you see what an untenable position I was in?” he asked. “There was no way to win for you or me or us, only better ways of losing. Like could I let them fire you when you’d done nothing wrong so we could cover our asses? Not a chance.”
“Wow.” It was all Flash said and then she said nothing more for a long time. He looked at the menorah she’d made him and saw it for what it was—a peace offering. He wished he had something more to give her in return than an ugly story.
“I know I was cold when I broke it off with you,” Ian said. “I know I was an ass. I know I was being insulting by telling you I was your superior.”
“You said, ‘Someone like me can’t be involved with someone like you,’” she said.
“I meant a boss with an employee. That’s all.”
“I thought you meant...”
“You thought I meant you weren’t good enough for me,” he said. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not what I meant because it’s not what I
think or what I feel. I wanted to talk to you about it, you know, after all the dust settled. But you’d already moved on and put it behind you. At least it seemed like you did.”
“Yeah, well, Mom and I moved a ton when I was a kid. She’d get behind on the rent and we’d have to pack up the car and drive out in the middle of the night, start over somewhere new a week later. At first you come to a new town and try to make friends. Then you move and lose your friends. By the fifth and sixth town you know you’re going to move again so you might as well not make friends. I got very good at walking away and leaving people behind. It was a survival skill. I had to learn fast how to cut my losses. Rule number one—don’t get attached in the first place and then when you leave you won’t miss anything. Or anybody. I broke rule number one with you. I got attached. But I didn’t break rule number two.”
“What’s rule number two?”
“When you see that you’re losing, quit playing. I was losing you so I folded my cards and left the table. I don’t stay where I’m not wanted.”
“You were wanted,” Ian whispered.
She stood up but immediately sat down again, not on the bed but on the floor with her back to the wall and the menorah in the window to her right. The candlelight danced across her face. She’d never looked more lovely to him or young or small or vulnerable. In personality and presence, she was huge. Physically she was a shrimp. An incredibly sexy shrimp.
“If I’d known you still wanted me...” she said, and paused.
“What would you have done?”
“I would have quit my job,” she said. “So we could have kept seeing each other without you getting into trouble or your dad. Or me.”
“You did quit your job.”
“Too late,” she said.