Chương 8
Forks scraped porcelain.
Someone laughed too loudly near the dance floor.
Emily lowered her voice.
“Because this is what he does.”
“Pays people’s hotel bills?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Fixes things after the fact so he can feel decent.”
I said nothing.
Her mouth tightened.
“He should’ve backed me in the meeting.”
“The review?”
“Yes.”
“He said he went to the executive committee.”
“After I was gone.”
“You mentioned that.”
“Because it matters.”
She looked at the doors.
“When Vantage threatened to pull the account, leadership wanted one person attached to the reporting changes.”
“You?”
“Me and one analyst.”
“What happened to the analyst?”
“Still employed.”
That gave me pause.
“Why?”
“Because he had emails.”
“What kind?”
“The kind I didn’t.”
I waited.
Emily’s fingers curled around her clutch.
“Daniel gave me direction verbally.”
“You’re saying he protected himself.”
“I’m saying he knew how meetings worked.”
Her voice remained controlled, but it had gone thin.
“He’d stop by my office, close the door, tell me the client was nervous, tell me to smooth out the report, tell me not to send anything that would trigger questions.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
She did not dodge it.
That surprised me.
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you document it?”
“Because he was my boss.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
“It was at the time.”
I knew that feeling better than I wanted to.
When I was twenty-three, the owner of the motel where I worked had once told me to charge a family twice because their first card looked like it might decline later.
I had refused.
Then I spent the rest of the shift terrified I would be fired.
I remembered standing in the laundry room folding towels and rehearsing explanations for an unemployment office I had never visited.
Fear makes stupid instructions look complicated.
Emily watched my face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Where you decide whether I’m a terrible person.”
“I don’t have enough free time for that.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Daniel entered the ballroom.
He saw us immediately.
Emily’s entire posture changed.
She walked toward him before I could stop her.
I followed because the outstanding authorization was still my problem, and because I had apparently abandoned all hope of staying uninvolved.
Daniel met her halfway.
“You saw it.”
“You paid my bill.”
“I covered the authorization.”
“Why?”
“Because you needed time.”
“I needed documentation.”
“You needed both.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked around at the nearby guests.
“Can we do this privately?”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“Yes.”
Both of them looked at me.
“This is still my ballroom.”
Emily’s jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
I led them into an empty boardroom off the main corridor.
The room smelled faintly of coffee from an afternoon meeting.
Someone had left a legal pad on the table with three doodled cubes in the corner.
Emily remained standing.
Daniel did too.
I closed the door.
“Reverse it,” Emily said.
Daniel nodded.
“If that’s what you want.”
She looked surprised.
“It is.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
That seemed to make her angrier.
“Then why did you do it?”
Daniel put both hands in his pockets.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t take money if I offered it.”
“So you went around me.”
“Yes.”
“That is not better.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
He looked down.
“Fair.”
Emily laughed sharply.
“You don’t get points for sounding remorseful.”
“I’m not asking for points.”
“You always do this.”
His face tightened.
“Do what?”
“Show up after the damage and behave reasonably.”
Daniel looked at me, then back at her.
“I shouldn’t have paid without asking.”
“No.”
“I can reverse it.”
“Yes.”
Emily stared at him as if waiting for resistance.
When none came, some of the energy went out of her.
She sat down.
For the first time all night, she looked thirty-two instead of agelessly polished.
Daniel took the chair across from her.
I remained by the door.
“You said you wanted the review letter,” he said.
“I did.”
“Why now?”
She looked at the table.
“I have an interview Tuesday.”
He blinked.
“For what?”
“Director of client strategy.”
“Where?”
“Northline.”
Daniel sat back.
“That’s a good company.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell them why you left Halcyon?”
“I told them there was a reporting dispute and I resigned during an internal review.”
He looked genuinely surprised.
“You told them that?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Enough.”
“And they still scheduled the final interview?”
“Yes.”
Something like pride crossed his face.
Emily saw it and immediately hardened.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to say good.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel rubbed his palms together.
“What do you need from me?”
“The letter helps establish the review is closed.”
“It does.”
“And I need a reference.”
He went still.
Emily looked at him.
“You said you wanted to fix things.”
“I do.”
“Then tell the truth when they call.”
His jaw tightened.
“That depends what they ask.”
“There it is.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
She stood again.
“That is exactly why I invited you tonight.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“You invited me to a birthday party because you wanted a reference?”
“I invited you because I knew if I asked directly, you’d give me some corporate answer about policy.”
He looked hurt.
Not offended.
Hurt.
That told me more than I wanted to know.
“You could’ve just called me.”
“I did call you.”
“After three months.”
“Because I spent the first two trying not to throw up every time your name appeared on my phone.”
Daniel went silent.
Emily looked away.
The room seemed suddenly too small.
I moved toward the coffee station and poured myself water from a glass pitcher that had gone lukewarm.
Nobody objected.
Daniel finally spoke.
“I’ll give you a reference.”
Emily looked back.
“A real one?”
“Yes.”
“Not neutral.”
“No.”
“Not ‘Emily worked here from these dates and we confirm her title.’”
“No.”
May you like
“What will you say?”
He took a long breath.
