Asking For A Friend

by Parker, Ali

  Annie’s bed was empty when I woke up on Monday morning. It was still made and her clothes from the day before were lying in a pile on her bed where she always put them after getting in her pajamas and before taking it to the hamper when she went to bed.

  My heart sputtered to a stop before picking up again and kicking into overdrive. Panicked, I raced through the house calling her name. “Annie? Baby? Where are you?”

  I reached the living room and saw a pile of blankets on the couch with a small shape stirring beneath them. Relief flooded me from my fingers to my toes. Annie sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Mommy? Were you calling me?”

  “What are you doing on the couch, honey? You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I went to sit next to her, pulling her into my arms until my racing heart quietened down.

  “I came to sleep on the couch in case Layton came by late.” Late? Try thirty-six hours late. My blood simmered at the same time that my heart broke over the dashed hope in Annie’s blue eyes.

  I was going to wring his damn neck the next time I saw him. This was too much for me. I’d learned the hard way that you could either trust a person or you couldn’t. Clearly, I couldn’t trust Layton. That was all I needed to know about him.

  If a person wasn’t trustworthy and reliable, especially when it came to my daughter, I didn’t want them in my life. I’d been hurt too much because of someone who lacked both of those qualities and so had Annie—even if she had never met him.

  She had to go through life without a father, because he was severely lacking in reliability, and responsibility for that matter. He was a selfish prick who only thought of himself. Apparently, so was Layton. He clearly didn’t get what a big deal it was for me to trust Annie with him and let him make promises in the first place—even to the point that skipping out without explanation was an option. I wanted no part in anything having to do with him at this point.

  Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt, the cap and the commemorative balloons. No, thank you. With blood pounding in my ears, I just managed to keep it together in front of Annie. She’d been through enough, she didn’t need to see how deeply hurt or angry I was.

  Denise arrived while I was making breakfast. She took one look at me before ushering Annie to her room to get ready for school, even though it was still early, then came back into the kitchen to demand an explanation. “What happened now?”

  “Annie slept on the couch last night,” I told her through gritted teeth. “She slept on the fucking couch ‘just in case Layton came by late.’ I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. This is exactly why I’ve been protecting her all along, to prevent her from getting hurt and disappointed like this.”

  “You still haven’t heard from him?” she asked, eyebrows rising into her red hair. “I really thought he would have called by now.”

  “Oh, he called all right,” I seethed. “He started calling hours after he was supposed to be here. I don’t really care what excuse he finally came up with. I have no desire to speak to him after what he did. Annie slept on the couch waiting for him, Denise. The couch!”

  She pursed her lips, nodding slowly before she cocked her head. Hesitation clouded her olive green eyes, but Denise was hardly the type to bite her tongue.

  “You have every right to be pissed at him. Fuck knows, I want to kick him in the balls myself over hurting her, but don’t you think you should hear him out? How many times has he called?”

  I shrugged. “I lost count, because it doesn’t matter. He didn’t call when it did matter, so I’m not speaking to him now that he’s decided he’s ready. You saw how she was after he stood us up. I don’t care why he didn’t show up, all that matters is that he didn’t, and he couldn’t even be bothered to send so much as a text to tell me he couldn’t make it.”

  “Realistically,” Denise reasoned calmly, “you’re going to have to speak to him again some time. You do work for him. Look, he messed up. I’m not arguing about that. But is one slip-up worth losing what you have with him?”

  My eyes slid to my purse and the folded white sheet of paper sticking out of it. “I’m not planning on continuing to work for him. I’ve drawn up my resignation letter already. I’m planning on handing it in today.”

  Her eyes stretched open so wide I could see where her mascara started. “You’re resigning over this? With all due respect, Sissy, isn’t that a little drastic?”

  I shook my head as hard as I could, planting my hand on my hip. Denise and I hardly ever argued, but I wasn’t budging on this. “It’s not drastic. It’s necessary. If I keep working for him, like you pointed out, I’ll have to speak to him again. Eventually, he might manage to soften me up and coax me into hearing his excuses. I don’t want to hear it. I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person once, I vowed never to do it again.”

  She opened her mouth, but I kept going. “It’s even worse this time, because if my judgment is wrong and I trust the wrong person, I’m not the only one who gets hurt. Annie gets hurt too, and that’s unacceptable to me.”

  Denise let out a low, sad sigh. The corners of her full mouth turned down. “I know what you went through, hon. And I’m not trying to make excuses on Layton’s behalf, what he did was wrong. But Marissa, he’s not your ex. He might have a perfectly valid reason for not showing up.”

  “Aside from bleeding out somewhere in a gutter, there is no reason why he couldn’t just have sent me one damn text to tell me he wasn’t going to make it. He didn’t even need to give me a reason, he could’ve just given me heads up so I could have prepared Annie. If he’d done that, I would’ve waited to hear why he didn’t show. If we’re not worth one text, he’s not worth our time.”

  She placed her elbows on the table and crossed her arms, her head slightly tilted. “You’ve been hurt before, babe. Trust me, I get it. But I think maybe just this once, you should consider letting your guard down. Just hear him out before you make a decision.”

  This time, I was the one who wanted to object, but she gave me a look that said ‘be patient’ and carried on. “You really should at least give him the chance to explain before you resign. Resigning from a job you like and are good at, especially without having something else lined up, would be a huge leap. Think back to how worried you were about losing your job at his dad’s before he called you.”

  I knew she was right about the job thing. In the months that had passed since the last time I was facing possible unemployment, I’d only managed to put away a little bit more money. Which meant I still only had enough to keep us afloat for a few months if I didn’t find a job. But staying on at the firm felt like a bigger risk to me right now than having to find a new job.

  Staying meant risking both my heart and Annie’s. I couldn’t do that. Not again. “I’m not interested, Dee. I’m not interested in his excuses, his justifications, or his company. I need to look out for Annie first and foremost. We’ll be fine with savings for a little while and I’m sure I’ll find something else.”

  Denise didn’t agree with my decision, but before we could finish making our respective points, Annie came back into the room. We rushed through breakfast and then it was time for me to leave.

  I dreaded the moment I would see Layton, knowing my heart was going to insist on hearing him out. I was simply going to toughen the hell up just long enough to hand in my resignation and get it over with.

  When I got to the office, it was bustling and busy. Phones were ringing, keyboards were clacking and people were talking and laughing, getting caught up on the weekend. I marched to Layton’s office before I lost my nerve, then deflated like a popped balloon when I found it empty.

  “Do you know what time he’ll be in?” I asked his assistant, who shrugged and shook her head.

  “I haven’t seen him or heard a word from him today,” she explained, frowning.

  I sighed and went to ask a few other people if they’d seen him, but no one had. As far as anyway could tell, he wasn’t at the office yet. Well, tough.

&
nbsp; Handing in a letter of resignation wasn’t something that was required to be done personally. His decision to play hooky, wasn’t going to derail my plans. I would leave my letter on his desk.

  His assistant had gone to get coffee when I got back there again, no doubt to get caught up on the latest gossip. Feeling confident that she would be away for the time I needed to do what I had to, I slipped into his office.

  It smelled faintly of him in there and despite myself, I took in a deep breath and let my head fall forward. Being there was harder than I’d expected it to be, knowing what I was about to do.

  I crossed the floor to his desk anyway, noticing the light blinking to indicate messages on his landline. With my resignation letter in my hand, I paused to stare at that light for a minute.

  It was pulsing a red that called to me. I knew those messages weren’t meant for me, but I pushed the button anyway. Worry about him lingered deep down inside me, in a place beneath the anger, disappointment and resentment.

  The next thing I knew, Layton’s deep voice was speaking to me through the speaker. “Marissa? I know if anyone but me is listening to these messages, it’s you. I had a feeling you might come to my office this morning, being nosy.”

  He said it with a smile in his voice, but it made me bristle. Even if he was right. “Listen to me, baby. I’m going to be back soon, I promise. I wish I had words to explain to you how sorry I am for not being there this weekend. You need to know that I’m away for you. I can’t explain it over a message, but I’m doing this because it’s the right thing for you. Please, just trust me on that. I truly care about you and promise I’ll make it up to you. I swear. See you soon.”

  The message ended and I wished I hadn’t listened to it. There were tears in my eyes and an ache in my chest. My letter was still clutched in my hand. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to hear from him. As determined as I had been when I walked in, I was confused now. What the hell was I supposed to do?

  Chapter 53

  Layton

  My day out with Brice in the big city was about to kick off any minute, and I, for one, couldn’t wait anymore. I spent the rest of the day yesterday and all morning today alternating between working, seething and wondering how he turned into someone who abandoned his own child.

  The Brice I knew was self-centered, sure. But abandoning your child? That was next level shit.

  He arrived right on time at eight on the dot. Dressed more casually today in slacks and a cashmere hoodie covered with a thick coat, he looked more like the guy I knew than the high powered attorney I saw yesterday, I reminded myself that his clothes were just window dressing.

  Even if he vaguely resembled someone I once called a friend, he wasn’t that guy. Not even close. He grinned when I opened the door, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You ready for an awesome day?”

  “Let’s go.” I didn’t mind playing his game for as long as it took to get him to talk about Marissa. I knew what I signed up for yesterday, but if I had my way, his day wasn’t going to be as awesome as he obviously hoped it would be.

  “I was really surprised to see you yesterday,” he started as we headed downstairs to a waiting town car. “Architecture, man? I never would have pictured that. How did you get into that?”

  “I’ve always been interested,” I shrugged. “It felt like the right fit.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said, with a nod to the driver next to the car. We slid into the back and the man eased us into the traffic. “I can’t imagine being anything but a lawyer. You said you started your own firm. That must have been tough.”

  “It was easier than I thought it would be,” I admitted. “Once I got my first few contracts, I started getting referrals and repeat customers. The rest is history, I guess.”

  Brice clapped me on the shoulder, which was awkward in the confined space of the backseat. “I’m proud of you, dude. You’ve never been the type to brag, but I know better than anyone it’s not easy to get your own thing off the ground.”

  Okay, that got me curious. I didn’t want to be interested in how he got to where he was, but I figured it could help me figure things out and fill in some blanks. The guy also used to be a friend and after spending a little time with him, I hated to admit I really did want to know how he ended up at one of the top firms in New York.

  Grudgingly, I asked, “How do you know better than anyone? Did you try opening your own firm?”

  My question was met with booming laughter and a self-deprecating smirk. “Me? Fuck no. Do you have any idea how competitive my industry is? No, I might consider it later on, but for now, I’m happy where I am. I just meant I’ve helped enough of my clients with their start-ups.”

  “My firm is hardly a start up,” I told him, annoyed with his comment about how competitive his industry was. Of course it was. Every industry was competitive. It showed how little he really knew about what it took to start any kind of business. I knew the legal industry was spiky to get started in, but so was mine. And very many others.

  Brice held his hands up, smiling apologetically. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  If you had to keep explaining yourself, it was time to start thinking about the way you said things, but Brice was undeterred. “Tell me about your firm. How many people do you have working for you?”

  “A few,” I answered vaguely, then steered the conversation back to him. “What about you? How did you end up in New York?”

  He laughed, waving his hand. “It’s a long story, most of which is covered by attorney-client privilege. Let’s just say I got a couple of good clients who made it worth my while to make the move.”

  And I thought I was being vague. “Surely you can give me more detail than that without breaking privilege.”

  Shrugging, he barked an order to the driver about the route he was taking in a much ruder tone than he used to speak to me. When he turned his attention back to our conversation, the faux charm and smile were firmly back in place.

  “I landed my first big client a couple of years ago,” Brice said. “It was a company who got me to do some basic work for them. After I completed the first few things they threw my way, they started hiring me for the bigger cases. Once I proved myself with those too, they approached me with an offer.”

  “How did you end up at the firm, then?” His story made it sound like they poached him from his previous employer for themselves, but obviously that wasn’t where or how the story ended.

  Winking conspiratorially, he lowered his voice. “You know how it is, man. The firm wanted my client. They needed a whale and I had one. I’d had my eye on that firm since law school, but it’s almost impossible to get into. They heard my client had a new lawyer they favored, so they approached me.”

  “You’re only there because you have one client?” I arched a brow. That seemed like an awfully risky gamble. Or a stupid one.

  Brice didn’t seem to think so, though. He nodded with this huge, shit-eating grin on his face. “Yeah. I promised them I’d bring my client along if they hired me. At first, they tried to convince me to sign them over and blah-blah-blah. Eventually, they made me an offer.”

  “You only work on that one client?” If he did, he was even more stupid that I originally thought.

  Again though, Brice nodded and flashed me his grin. “Yup. It’s great. I’ve got my client eating out of my palm and a spot in one of the top firms in the city. Maybe even the country.”

  “What happens if your client drops you?” I asked, and though it had seemed like a very obvious question to me, Brice looked caught totally off guard.

  “Drop me?” His eyes widened, even as he shook his head from side to side. “They won’t drop me. I’ve always done great work for them. They love me.”

  Yeah, I was sure they did. But disagreements happened. It happened that sometimes your ‘great work’ still wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t here to give him career advice, though.

  I shrugged and changed the subject instead. “Ho
w are your folks?”

  “I don’t know,” he said lightly. “It’s not like I have time to catch up with them all the time.”

  Boy, he really was a douche. “You haven’t managed to carve out time to speak to them in so long you don’t even know how they are?”

  “You know how it goes,” he shot me a ‘you understand’ smirk. “Life gets busy. You lose touch with people. But hey, I heard about your dad passing away. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  Brice’s gaze shifted from mine to out the window behind me. “He came to look for me once, you know.”

  “He did?” Yet another nugget of information that would have been handy to have known. My dad really had dropped me in the deep end on this one.

  He nodded. “Yeah. We didn’t get to talk too much. I didn’t have time for any new clients back then.”

  I highly doubted my father had come looking for Brice to hire him as his new counsel. Dad and Clayton Reeve were thick as thieves, right up until the very end, as evidenced by the fact that Clayton had even been entrusted with delivering the videos to me.

  Everything Clayton didn’t do for Dad himself, he got his own army of people to do. Dad wouldn’t have come looking for Brice for work, which meant he came because of Marissa. And failed, or he wouldn’t have passed the mission on to me.

  “I don’t think he was here for business, Brice,” I told him, deciding to cut through the bullshit and get to the point. For a guy who claimed not to have time for anything, he was wasting a hell of a lot of it with me.

  The conversation we needed to have wouldn’t take long, but he insisted on making it a full day outing. Adding all the fluffy small talk he was trying to make—as if he were just a good guy just trying to catch up with an old friend—and I didn’t think he was nearly as busy as he made himself out to be.

  “He came to talk to you about Marissa. Didn’t he?”

  Brice’s face turned to stone. He flicked his eyes out the window beside him, his knee bouncing. “Why do you keep bringing that woman up?”