Chương 7
Derek studied him.
“That’s what you meant.”
Richard felt something cold move through his stomach.
“What?”
“At the mat. ‘Do you know who you just hit?’”
Richard walked away.
“Who is she?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“No. That’s your problem. You still think if she turns out to be important enough, then hitting her becomes wrong.”
Derek stared at him.
“It was wrong when you thought she was ordinary.”
Richard’s phone rang on the counter.
Neither moved toward it.
Derek said, “You set me up with some professional killer and didn’t tell me.”
Richard closed his eyes.
There it was.
Another door out.
Another explanation.
“You really can’t do it, can you?”
“Do what?”
“Stand in the room with something that’s your fault.”
Derek’s face changed.
Richard had said crueler things to him before.
This one landed differently.
Maybe because he had not shouted.
Derek left without another word.
Three days after the event, Maya received a letter from Derek’s attorney.
It did not accuse her directly of wrongdoing.
That made it worse.
The language was careful.
There had been mutual participation in a physical athletic demonstration.
The parties had assumed certain risks.
Public statements regarding intentional misconduct could create reputational harm.
All evidence should be preserved.
Maya read it twice at her kitchen table.
Then she called Captain Norris.
“They sent me a threat written by somebody who charges by the semicolon.”
“Send it to legal.”
“I already did.”
“Then stop reading it.”
“I’m on the second page.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy suffering.”
Norris sighed.
“Maya.”
“I know.”
She set the letter down.
Through the apartment wall came the sound of someone vacuuming.
“You haven’t spoken publicly,” Norris said.
“I know.”
“So they’re warning you not to make statements you haven’t made.”
“Apparently silence is defamatory now.”
“Let legal deal with it.”
Maya rubbed her forehead.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Norris went quiet.
Maya regretted the sentence.
Then he said, “You’re right.”
She leaned back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’m being unpleasant.”
“You were unpleasant before.”
“That helps.”
“I try.”
A message appeared on Maya’s phone while they were speaking.
Celia.
Can we meet?
Maya ignored it until after the call.
Then she replied.
Why?
The answer came almost immediately.
Because the foundation is falling apart.
They met at a diner the following morning.
Not a dramatic one.
No polished wood booths or retro neon.
Just a place beside a highway where the laminated menus had sticky corners and the coffee tasted as if it had been brewed during a previous administration.
Celia arrived first.
She looked tired.
Maya sat across from her.
“You said falling apart.”
Celia pushed a mug aside.
“We’ve had two donors pause commitments.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of the event.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Celia looked at her.
“One cited potential litigation.”
Maya’s mouth tightened.
“I haven’t sued anyone.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell them?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They’re waiting.”
Maya looked toward the waitress carrying a tray of pancakes.
A little boy at another table was stacking jelly packets into a tower.
Normal life continued with offensive competence.
Celia said, “The housing program is funded through next quarter. Nobody’s getting thrown out next week.”
“Good.”
“But if we lose the fall donor cycle, we cut grants.”
Maya reached for the menu even though she was not hungry.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I don’t want you learning it from some idiot online.”
“Thank you.”
“And because Richard wants to meet with you.”
The menu stopped moving.
“No.”
“He asked me to ask.”
“Still no.”
“He says it isn’t about settlement.”
“Then what is it about?”
“He wants to apologize.”
“He can email.”
Celia looked down.
Maya set the menu flat.
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
“Celia.”
“He’s considering releasing a statement saying he pushed to include Derek after I objected.”
Maya stared at her.
“Did you object?”
“I recommended somebody else.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“I told Richard I didn’t think Derek understood the tone of the event.”
“Why not?”
Celia gave a tired laugh.
“Because I’d met him.”
Maya almost smiled.
Almost.
“He wanted followers tagged in the program. He asked whether the foundation could use his gym logo on the mat. He wanted the demonstration announced as Soldier versus Fighter.”
Maya looked at her.
“And you still let him do it.”
Celia flinched.
The words had been harsher than Maya intended.
She did not take them back.
Celia wrapped both hands around the coffee mug.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Richard.”
There was no point pretending money had not been in the room even when Richard was not.
“He’s funded almost a third of our emergency grant program for four years,” Celia said. “When he says something is important to him, people listen.”
“Including you.”
“Yes.”
The direct answer made Maya’s anger harder to hold cleanly.
Celia looked toward the jelly-packet tower.
“I told myself it was ten minutes. I told myself Derek was arrogant, not dangerous. I told myself Richard would keep him in line.”
Maya heard the phrase again.
Control him.
Keep him in line.
She thought of Derek telling the camera the slap had been a test.
“What happens if Richard releases the statement?”
“He hurts his company. Maybe his board pushes him out of foundation planning.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Celia took a breath.
“I’m going to tell the board anyway.”
Maya looked at her.
Celia’s fingers tightened around the mug.
“I should have done it before the event.”
For the first time since the slap, Maya felt something shift that had nothing to do with Derek.
Not forgiveness.
Trust, perhaps, in the smallest possible amount.
“Okay,” Maya said.
Celia blinked.
“Okay what?”
“I’ll meet Richard.”
Richard arrived ten minutes early.
He wore no tie.
Maya noticed that before she could stop herself and disliked the fact that she was already interpreting wardrobe decisions.
He sat beside Celia rather than beside Maya.
May you like
Good choice.
He placed both hands on the table.
