Nineteen
Tess
“Kendra?” I called, opening the door slowly so I wouldn’t startle her.
It had been several weeks since I’d been to her apartment, and though I’d used my key on a regular basis before, things felt different now.
But since she hadn’t answered when I’d knocked, I poked in carefully.
Her condo looked the same as usual, immaculate in some areas, others in total disarray. Kendra was like that, only occupying parts of her apartment at a time, the same way she only occupied parts of her life. Her sofa, for example, had books and magazines piled as though she’d been doing a binge read. The coffee table had her laptop and more than one empty plate that had yet to be taken to the kitchen.
On the other hand, her office—a room I could easily see due to the open layout—looked tidy and neglected.
Which made sense, I supposed. I was usually the one who pulled her in there when she would have been perfectly happy to work from the living room.
Vainly, I wondered if she’d even been able to get any work done at all since I’d been on leave.
Feeling guilty for the thought, I gathered up her dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen, cleaning up after her in the way I’d grown accustomed to as her employee. In the same way I cleaned up after Teyana.
God, if they ever actually got together, the two of them would need to hire an adult nanny.
Not it.
After leaving the kitchen, a thump drew me from the main part of the apartment. “Kendra?” I called again.
“Back here,” she said, her voice seeming farther away than it should for being in her bedroom.
I followed the sound and found her in her closet, sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but a matching bra and panty set, a variety of outfits strewn around her.
She peered up at me, her perfectly made-up eyes blinking in surprise, which had me wondering who in the hell she’d thought I was when she’d invited me to come waltzing into her closet while she was half naked. Then I remembered I was dealing with someone who didn’t always connect thoughts and events in a linear fashion, and also someone who had no boundaries when it came to her body.
“Am I running late?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I came early. Thought we should probably talk first.”
“Oh, good. Seeing how I’m still not dressed.” Her face and hair were already done, though, so she’d be ready to go as soon as she was.
But even with my appearance, she made no move to do so.
In all the years I’d known her, she’d never been one to have a hard time choosing an outfit. No, this was something else. Something I recognized since it had only been about two months since I’d sat in her same exact spot, fretting about how I was going to be able to pull off selling the DRF to Scott Sebastian behind Kendra’s back.
When I’d been in that state, Teyana had joined me on the floor.
It had been a while since I’d been that close to Kendra, but the impulse felt right, and I plopped myself on the ground and stretched my legs out in front of me, figuring the closet was as good a place to talk as any.
But as many times as I’d practiced my speech, the words didn’t come. And I wasn’t about to ask her what was up with her because frankly, I didn’t care.
Or I was trying not to care. Not caring was harder to follow through with than I wanted it to be. Even after the way she’d treated me, even after keeping her relationship with Teyana a secret for so long. Even though she was engaged to the man I loved.
Instinctively, I glanced at her left hand and saw it bare.
I wasn’t going to ask about that, either. She probably just didn’t wear it all the time and would put it on before we left.
Before she left. I still hadn’t decided if we’d be leaving together.
After several silent minutes, she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on the top of them. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”
Annoyance stabbed through me. In all the years I’d worked for her, I’d never not come in when I was supposed to, and I was offended that she’d think it was a possibility I’d flake now, never mind that it had definitely crossed my mind.
But being annoyed wasn’t going to get us anywhere. What we needed was to finally be honest. “I wasn’t sure I would either,” I admitted. “And I’m really not sure whether or not I’m staying.”
“Not staying today or not staying ever?”
It was an odd way to phrase it, but I understood what she was asking. “Both maybe. I don’t know.” I pulled my knees to my chest, mirroring her posture. “It depends on what you’d want me to stay for.”
“Because you’re a stellar employee. Because I like having you around. Because you know who I am and you still…” She trailed off, seeming uncertain how to fill in the blank.
I still...yeah.
I had still for her an awful lot. Still stayed loyal when she’d taken me for granted and kept me in the dark and hadn’t given me the opportunity to grow.
But maybe I’d done a bit of the same to her.
Besides, that hadn’t been what I was asking. “I mean, what job do you want me to stay for? If you want me to be here as your assistant and house sitter and housemaid—”
“That’s not fair to you,” she finished for me. “It’s not where you belong either. I know that. I’ve always known it.”
I propped my chin up on the top of one knee. “Then why is that where you kept me?”
She blew out a rush of air. “I’ve been wondering about that a lot lately, trying to come up with the answer. It was a lot of things, I think, none of them good excuses, but if you want to know—”
“I do.”
“Well. It was easier, for one. You know what I need and how to do things the way I like them, and training someone new for that is just...hard.”
“I would help with that, you know.”
“I know. But whomever I hired, she’d never be you.”
Flattery was exactly the way to my heart. But I steeled myself against it, not wanting to get caught up in the warm fluffy feelings when this conversation needed to be had in full. “Why else?”
“I was selfish. Obviously. I liked having you to myself. I liked that you weren’t a part of the elitist snobs I deal with on a daily basis. I liked that you were real.”
She was right—it was selfish. Considering what I knew now about her world, though, it also might have been a protective instinct on her part. I didn’t really want to give her that much credit, but since she hadn’t tried to ask for it, it was easier to admit she might deserve it.
I didn’t have to encourage her to go on this time. “And because I think I wanted something I could control. When it feels like I have nothing I can control. Nothing that’s all mine. This business was, and I was afraid…” She paused to clear her throat. “I think I was afraid that if I let you be everything that you could be, you’d outshine me.”
Ugh. Immature, ridiculous, gross thinking, and yet so many people in our society thought along the same lines. Women were taught to feel that way, especially. Taught that there was limited room at the top for the female gender, and so we better claw our way up and push everyone else down.
She’d probably had that idea pushed on her more than I had, coming from a world of perfection. A world that valued how things were perceived more than the reality behind them. A world that would make a woman feel like she should choose a loveless marriage instead of the woman she loved.
I wanted to be mad at her. And I was. But also, I felt sorry for her.
And I loved her. And wanted the best for her. Despite everything. Still.
“The success of other people doesn’t diminish your own value,” I told her, hoping she’d hear it.
“I know,” she said. “I really do know. And maybe it would have been easier to allow that to be true with you if it weren’t you. Because you already had the thing I wanted most. How could I give you what was left too?”
I had the thing she wanted most? What on earth could I have that she wanted when she had money and good looks and success and the right pedigree and Scott and...
Oh.
“Teyana,” I said. It wasn’t a secret that I knew about their on-again, off-again affair. I’d told her when I’d told her I was taking a leave, and Tey had had at least one long phone call with her about it.
But even though I’d gotten used to the idea of them being together, I still hadn’t put it all the way into perspective, and I tried to do that now. Tried to imagine myself in her shoes, which wasn’t hard since Kendra had Scott, a fact that was devastating. If I had everything else she had, and she only had him, I’d still seethe with envy.
So, yeah. I could understand her feeling that way about me.
Except… “I don’t have Teyana, K.”
“You do, though. You have the ability to be with her and be yourself and not worry about who thinks what about who you are to each other.”
I leaned forward, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You have that ability too.”
“Not without losing.”
It wasn’t fair for me to try to decide whether or not the things that she would lose by coming out about Teyana were worth it. There was no way I could make those assumptions, especially when I was solidly part of the privileged when it came to sexual orientation. I couldn’t truly understand the obstacles and prejudices a bisexual woman faced or make a judgment about how she chose to deal with that.
But I did know something about losing in general. “I think that’s what love is about sometimes. About losing. Sacrificing, but also about losing yourself or the idea of who you are because you’ve finally seen who you are through the eyes of someone who loves you better than you love yourself, and it doesn’t quite match up to what you thought you were.”
Like how Scott had known I wouldn’t be able to give up the DRF for him. Because he saw me as that good of a person, and I believed him, which made me have to change my self-identity. It made me lose him, too, of course.
But this wasn’t about me.
“I know that oversimplifies things,” I went on. “But maybe instead of worrying about all that you’ll lose, you can focus on what you’ll gain. As someone who is loved by Teyana, I bet it’s worth it.”
Kendra cocked her head, thinking. Absorbing, perhaps.
“Exactly what I needed to hear,” she said. “You’re very wise.”
Then she wiped her eyes, though there was nothing to wipe since her tears hadn’t actually made it to her cheeks—God, she was even the perfect crier—and clapped her hands together. “Which is why I have to have you as my partner.”
I nodded.
Then shook my head.
“What?” I couldn’t have heard her right.
“My partner. I know it will be a while before you can afford the buy-in, but keep making deals like this Sebastian deal we’re signing today, and it won’t take long at all.”
I shifted, crossing my legs and ignoring how wrinkled my pantsuit would be later. “Does that mean you want me to do what you do? Match up organizations with sponsors? Pitch and everything?”
“All of it. And you can keep eighty percent of your negotiated salary. The other twenty percent can help us afford a new assistant.” She grew suddenly sober. “If you want to, I mean. But if you’re over me or Conscience Connect, I will write you a glowing recommendation and wish you the best as you go off on your own pathway. I love you enough to lose. Whether I have to lose myself or lose you, I love you, and I hope you choose to stay. Think about it. Please.”
I didn’t have to think about it. The one offer I thought she could give me to make me stay was letting me pitch deals. Giving me a raise and offering a buy-in was beyond anything I could have imagined.
But I couldn’t agree without a semblance of negotiation. “Throw in season opera tickets, and I’m on board.”
“Done.”
We both smiled, and it felt suddenly like it had when we were in college, both of us with equal footing—or equal-er footing. When the only thing between us had been friendship, and that had been plenty.
Having my career decided was a relief, but it didn’t change the rest of my life, and soon enough that reality set in. Today, the DRF sponsorship would be wrapped up, on paper at least. The latest contract stated the funding would take place over eighteen months, according to Kendra, who had acted as the liaison and kept me informed with brief texts over the weeks of my leave. Eighteen months until Scott could break up with Kendra.
Would they even be able to postpone a wedding that long?
I didn’t want to think about that. We were doing a good thing for the DRF. An important thing. That was what mattered.
“Speaking as a future partner, not a nagging assistant, we should probably get moving.” I stood up and reached a hand out to help her up.
“I couldn’t decide what I should wear.” She picked up a couple of dresses from the floor. “The red? Or the peach?”
“What look are you going for?” Neither screamed professional, though both would do.
“Too sexy to resist.”
“Uh, then the red.”
She scanned over my appearance, as if really looking at me for the first time since I’d arrived. “And you’re going to wear that? Do you want to wear the peach?”
The pantsuit I was wearing was new, a present to myself with my mother’s money, and I knew for a fact it made me look powerful. At least that’s what both Tey and the saleswoman had said, and I was trusting enough to believe them. “I’ll stick with this, thanks.”
“Even though Scott is going to be there?”
Especially since Scott was going to be there. I didn’t need to walk in looking for his attention. Today would be easier ignoring our chemistry altogether.
And after today, I wouldn’t have to see him for work at all.
I tried not to be disappointed about that.
“You do know Scott and I broke up?” He’d told me she knew about us, but I had no idea if he’d updated her after I’d walked out on him.
“Yeah, but after to—” She cut herself off. “I’d better rush. Can you do me a favor and see if you can find where I left my phone?”
Future partner or not, there were some parts of our relationship that I suspected would never change. “Yep.”
Less than an hour later, we walked into the Sebastian Center and discovered Teyana waiting for us in the lobby.
“I thought you had an appointment with the specialist and the documentary people today.” I looked around, half expecting to see the camera crew.
“I did, but you know how they provide a car for me to and from? The driver brought me here afterward. When I asked why, he said they didn’t know anything except that Mr. Sebastian told him to. I hoped you’d know what was up when you got here.”
I definitely didn’t.
But I knew who did.
Narrowing my eyes, I turned to Kendra. She shrugged innocently, but she refused to meet my gaze. Or Teyana’s. She obviously knew something.
“There’s Sarah and Peter,” she said, deflecting. “We should grab the elevator with them.”
She hurried to catch the employees from the DRF. We towed just far enough behind that Tey and I could talk without being heard.
“She’s up to something,” she said suspiciously.
“She knew you were coming for sure. It took her forever to choose what to wear.” I didn’t add that Kendra had also neglected to put her engagement ring on. I didn’t want it to seem like it was something I noticed.
“Really?” Her voice lilted up with cautious excitement. “She does look damn good in red. Bitch.”
It was strange to watch her around Kendra now. I’d assumed that the snarky remarks Tey always made were about my relationship with Kendra and not her own. Now I saw the resentment of their situation for what it was.
If I ended up talking to Scott today, I might behave in the same way.
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br /> Or I might end up blubbering in his arms. It had taken all the restraint I possessed to not text him back over the last few weeks. If I’d had any sense of self-preservation, I would have blocked his number and deleted all the messages he’d sent.
But while I was pretty confident I was getting better at the whole choosing myself thing, I was still a sucker for every notification ping that came across my phone. I knew I needed to cut myself off so I could move on, but right now those glimpses of his life kept me going. The one he’d sent only that morning burned in my mind like a tattoo in my brain.
Soon. It will all be over soon. I love you.
It was both ominous and uplifting. Soon it would be over, and I’d have no reason to see him until his engagement was up. And I still loved him.
Knife. Straight to the heart.
After today, I told myself. When the contracts were signed, and his eighteen-month commitment to Kendra would be official, I would block his number and delete the texts then. What better reason for closure would there be than that?
Kendra caught up with the others and pushed the call button before Tey and I got there, so when we did, the elevator was waiting, and we walked straight on.
“Today’s the day,” Sarah said, excited.
“I can’t believe it’s actually happening,” I said. When I let myself think about the fact that the sponsorship was going through and that it was because of me, the day became a lot more thrilling.
“You’ll have a nice salary, too, according to the stipulations set out by SIC.” As the president of the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation, Peter probably looked at my pay as money he could be doing more with if it went straight to them instead of me.
Well, too bad. I needed to make a living, and as far as I was concerned, I’d earned it.
Sarah gave me a wink that said to ignore him. Then the elevator doors shut, and I made polite conversation with the two of them as we rode up while Teyana and Kendra stood shoulder to shoulder in front of me. The sexual tension sparking off them was so thick, I couldn’t believe I’d ever missed it, and when their fingers brushed against each other, I swear I felt the jolt through my body as if it had been my fingers brushing against the person I loved.
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