Grumpy Best Friend

Hal returned with my water and I sipped it. He lingered nearby, hovering by the door. “I’m going to wait in the hall,” he said. “Take all the time you need. And, uh, Jude?”

I looked back at him, barely aware of anything but my shaking hands, and the folder mocking me from the table. “Yes?” I said, and my voice sounded like it came from somewhere else.

“Whatever that guy wants, don’t give it to him. They always want more.” He shook his head and left.

The door shut with a soft click, and I opened the folder one more time, leafing through as quickly as I could—and yes, they were all Lady Fluke, and they were all compromising. I shut the thing and pushed it away, feeling sick to my stomach.

19

Bret

I paced back and forth across the living room and could barely control my anger. The folder sat on the coffee table, mocking the both of us. Jude curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, arms hugging herself like she’d been violated.

That goddamn folder. I knew Zeke was sick, but I had no clue how far he was willing to go. I figured he was down to do some threatening, a little old-fashioned shakedown to try to get a quick payment from a rich former wife, but this was a step too far. The intimacy of those photographs made me sick—and the idea that he’d share it with someone made me want to murder him with my bare hands.

I’d never do that to someone, not even someone I despised. Nobody deserved to be used like that.

Jude watched me with a little frown. I was hard on her when I got back to the office earlier—I came down rougher than I intended. We didn’t fight, but I should’ve been gentler at first. I hated that she let Zeke into the office, and spoke with him without me, but nothing bad happened. I only hoped that she wouldn’t do it again, and was aware enough to realize that she got away with something once, and might not a second time.

“We have to tell her,” I said, pointing at the folder. “She needs to know about this.”

Jude’s face paled. “I can’t,” she said. “Can you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, and tried to picture myself saying the words to prim Lady Fluke: Zeke’s got naked pictures of you. Jude saw them. It was mortifying, both for her and for me, and I didn’t want to put either of us through it.

But she needed to know. “I’ll tell her,” I said. “Even though I don’t want to.”

Jude shook her head. “Absolutely not. She’ll think you saw the pictures.”

I made a face and looked at the folder. Lady Fluke was an attractive woman—but no part of me wanted to open it up and see her intimate moments. It felt much too gross and awful, and I took Jude’s word that they were real, and they were definitely Fluke.

“I’ll tell her I didn’t,” I said, although that sounded weak, and I knew Jude was right. It needed to come from her, as difficult as it would be. Jude knew Fluke better than I did, and they were both women—that had to count for something.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I appreciate you trying, but no, I can’t let you. I’ll do it. I just… give me some time, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, and drifted over to the couch. I sat down next to her, and she shifted toward me, then leaned her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and held her tight for a minute, then hugged her close, and she let out one soft sob. I held her while she cried, and the whole time I thought of that bastard Zeke, and what he was doing to Jude, and to Lady Fluke, and to the whole goddamn company. All we wanted to do was open a cookie baking operation, and that bastard needed to insert himself into the middle of it in order to extort his ex-wife for cash.

I hated him, but had to deal with him whether I liked it or not.

Her tears slowed and I wiped them with the sleeve of my shirt. She smiled and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s embarrassing. I’m just so anxious and it feels so fucked up.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “You’re emotional. I am too, except I want to express my emotions through physical violence.”

She smiled a little at that. “I’d like to see it,” she said.

“Maybe you will soon, if we get lucky.”

She pulled away and took a deep breath then stood and walked across the room. I tracked her as she grabbed a tissue from the box near the TV and dabbed at her face with it.

“I want to tell Lisa,” she said, not looking at me.