It Started with a Kiss

“That was a damn beautiful speech, Andrew. Thank you. The respect is mutual when it comes to you.” I stand because although I appreciate the accolades and Andrew having my back, I think I need to consult with my lawyers privately. “As for Brent . . . I think another interview will be needed. Try to have a good day, gentlemen.”

As soon as I shut my door, it opens before I can sit down behind my desk. Nick comes in and stands by the window. Crossing his arms over his chest, my brother-in-law looks at me and says, “Look, Jackson, the company can take the financial hit to settle. It won’t be pretty, but the press putting our reputation in jeopardy by letting this story circulate can do more damage to the future business if not contained. We’re having to weigh our options. But as family, I’m worried how much this will take to fight regarding your case.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Nick.” Turning my attention to my monitor, I say, “You can see yourself out.”

“Nah.” He lowers his arms and sits across from me. “We’re not going to pull that bullshit, not between us. When I married your sister, I married into her family. I take family very seriously. When someone comes after one of us, they come after all of us. The company can’t protect you, but Andrew and I will to the best of our ability. If you want to fight, we fight. If you want to settle to make this lawsuit go away, we’ll respect that decision as well. But you have to tell us what it’s going to be.”

“Manhattan Financial recorded all the calls. I know times change and permissions need to be in place, but the system is still the same. You need to have that investigated to see if the system is still running in the background by chance. It will be an immediate end to this.”

“It won’t be admissible in court because we have no right to record a conversation without permission prior to the call beginning.” Standing again, he crosses the office. “I haven’t told Natalie about the lawsuit, but I think you should. This isn’t something you need to go through alone.”

“And what is my sister going to do about it? She can’t make it go away. She can’t make me feel better that some fuckhead is suing me for something I had no part of. Don’t you get it, Nick? You’ve seen the files, the emails, the summaries, and the interviews. It’s his word against mine, but either way, I lose.” I stand, grabbing my jacket and putting it on. “I’m sorry if I don’t have an answer for you in the time you have allotted.”

“Fuck that, Jackson. It’s not my timeline. I’m trying to be—”

“Don’t. Don’t be anything but a friend or my brother-in-law. What I need right now is time to process this and to get my attorney’s advice before I can tell you how I’m feeling.” I tuck my keys in my pocket and grab my phone. “Because I’m feeling pretty fucked up over this. I’m going home. I’m going to . . . I don’t know what I’m going to do. All I ask is that my sister stays blind to this situation until I know what I want to do. I don’t want to worry about her or my parents, and I will if they start worrying about me.”

“Understood.”

I pass him but then stop and turn back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Lock up when you leave.”

I cut through the cubicles on my way to the elevator, wanting to get out of here as fast as I can. I’d run home if it weren’t so far and I wasn’t in dress shoes. I take a car and wonder if I should give Marlow a heads-up.

I’m thinking she’s still mad about last night. I would be, so I won’t blame her if she is. I took out my problems on her when she didn’t deserve it. After debating whether to return her calls, I decide to try to change the direction we’re headed and apologize. I get dropped off two blocks down and rush through the store, grabbing what I need before walking through a crush of people heading home after work like I am.

When I open the door to the apartment, I already sense a shift in the air. I don’t like it. Neither does my gut. Her coat isn’t on the hook next to where I hang mine by the front door. “Marlow?” I call, noticing the perfume that usually greets me is fading. Lingering particles caught in the air are all that remain.

I put the bags and the flowers wrapped in tissue down on the counter. “Marlow?”

Her laptop isn’t on the coffee table, and the charging cord isn’t running from the plug on the wall to the couch. Walking down the hall, I know before I see it with my own eyes. I know she’s gone.