The Other Women

by Erin Zak

  “Jesus, this is weird.” I place my hand on my forehead and rub the lingering headache.

  “How do you think I feel?”

  I raise my gaze so I’m staring. He shrugs, and damn, he’s absolutely right. “Yeah, we were. Luke?” I trace the bottom of the wineglass and realize how nervous this conversation is making me. “How long did you know?”

  “About you two?” He rubs his hand over his face. He has a bit of scruff, which is unlike him, but it suits him in all the best ways. I’ll never stop thinking he’s cute, regardless of how out of love with him I may be. “I’d say about two years.”

  I choke on a breath. “Are you joking?” I manage to ask around coughs and stutters.

  He chuckles, shaking his head, before he lifts his glass and does a mock cheers to the sky. “I think I actually knew longer, but I wasn’t sure until I saw you two together the night of the Christmas party at Lawry’s.”

  The memory of Willow and me arguing near the restroom slams into me. She’d been pushing me to leave him, and I had stood so firm through it all. I couldn’t leave this wonderful man sitting in front of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone because I’d found someone else to make me happy. The idea nauseated me. Hell, it still nauseates me. But I’m able to realize how important our independence is now. Then, I was too aware of how fragile I was to leave a man who’d been the only thing keeping me together for most of my life. I can only hope the healing I’ve done, the soul-searching, the endless nights of sleep deprivation, have helped me.

  “I knew it meant more when I saw how upset you both were, and your lie about it being a lost business deal made no sense since the rest of the company wasn’t upset.”

  I don’t respond right away for many reasons, but mostly, I’m embarrassed. I was so afraid of what would happen that I hid a relationship from him for years. And I learn tonight that he wasn’t faithful either, and oh yeah, he knew almost the entire time. “So,” I start, and he pours himself another glass, “why didn’t you confront me? If you knew, I mean? Like, why wait? Especially since you were…also…I mean…you know what I mean.” I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to say fucking other women, but it is.

  He chuckles. He has been chuckling a lot tonight, and I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, if it feels good to finally be free of these lies. I want to join in, have some fun with him. The lies I’ve been holding on to have been weighing me down for far too long, and now that they’re out in the open, I should be able to breathe again. But I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the fact that every lie I’ve told led me to Francesca, to a woman who changed everything about me, and now, after all that, she’s gone.

  And I’m left sitting here at my dining room table in my beautiful home in Chicago, looking at my husband across a table of food prepared by him, counting up the lies, and thinking how easy it’d be for me to remove myself from the entire equation. I’ve hurt too many people in my life, done too much wrong to be able to find happiness again. I don’t deserve it.

  “Listen, Cess,” Luke says, cutting into my suicidal thoughts, and thankfully so. Death is the coward’s way out of the mess I’ve created. “I didn’t confront you because I didn’t want us to end. I wanted to be able to fix us, to find a way back to each other, but after a few months, it was clear that wasn’t an option. I just…” His voice trails off, and the look on his face makes me want to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep. “I love you, Cecily. I’ve always loved you. And I wanted to make sure that if our relationship ended, it was because we both came to the end and knew there was nowhere else to go.” He shrugs.

  I glance at his hand, his fingers, as he messes with the stem of the wine glass. He doesn’t have his ring on. The sight is suffocating in the most claustrophobic of ways, and I have to pull my gaze away. I look at the ceiling, at the dust on the chandelier. “I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, and before I know it, he’s up and around the table, holding me as I start to cry. My gentle tears turn into sobbing while he holds me. He is too amazing for me. Too wonderful for me. Too everything for me, and I’m finally realizing our love wasn’t enough to save me or him.

  “You deserve to be loved and to love.” His voice is barely a whisper, but he squeezes me even tighter as I cry.

  Francesca

  “Where’s your girl?”

  I glance up at Max while I’m pouring vodka into a shaker. He’s all smiles, and I know he thinks I’m as happy as he is, but it’s not the case. I don’t have the heart to tell him. I have to, though. Lying isn’t an option. Well, I guess it could be an option. How would anyone know for sure? But the idea of carrying on a lie about a wonderful relationship with Cecily makes my stomach roll. “She left to go back to Chicago.”

  “When will she be back? Or are you going to visit her?” His happiness is almost contagious. Almost.

  “I have no idea, and no, I’m not going to visit her.”

  “Whoa.” He’s seemingly picked up on my body language and heard my tone over the thump, thump of the electronic dance music. “What happened?”

  I keep shaking until my hands feel as if they’ll break off from the cold. I snap the glass away from the metal and pour the drink into a martini glass. I keep my eyes on the task at hand. If I look at him, I’m fucked. I’ll cry. And I cannot cry right now. Not in the middle of a shift I decided to pick up. I almost wish Max would have called off. I couldn’t get that lucky, though. “Nothing happened, Max.”

  “Sure, okay, and you think I’d believe you why?”

  I shake my head, grab the drink, and carefully place it in front of the customer three seats down from where we’re standing. I turn and push past him. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Frankie, hold up.” He’s on me like a stray dog, and if I weren’t at work, I’d shout at him to get off. But I know he’s worried about me. It’s nice to have someone worry about me. No one else seems to. Cecily didn’t worry about me. Willow never has. So why would I push someone away who actually does? Stupidity, that’s why. And I refuse to keep being stupid.

  “Cecily and I aren’t going to keep doing whatever we were doing. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He stops and swipes an ice cube off the bar top. He grins when it lands perfectly in the trash bin.

  “Nice one.”

  He laughs, pumping his bulky arms into the air. “Enough about my mad skills. Talk to me.” He motions to the empty seats. “Monday nights are dead. We have time.”

  He’s not wrong about that. “Remember Willow?”

  “Oh, that ho-bag? How could I forget her?”

  I try not to grin. I love how much my closest people can’t stand what she did to me. Of course, I’d expect no less, but knowing they’ve got my back has helped me heal. Cecily helped me heal, too. And now… “Willow used to live in Chicago. Do you remember me telling you that?”

  He nods. “Yeah, for sure. She was like, some big shot marketing consultant or something, right?”

  I nod. “And Cecily worked for one of the firms she consulted for.”

  “Ah, okay, I gotcha.” He’s digesting the words when his eyes widen. “Wait a second. Did they—” Max stops with a slapped hand to his mouth. “Oh my God.” His words are muffled. “No.”

  I nod, slowly.

  “Well, shit,” he says. “What a small fucking world.” He does a small humph but doesn’t seem to get the dilemma.

  “You don’t think that’s a huge problem?”

  “Wait, you do?”

  I laugh. “Yes, I think it’s a huge fucking problem.”

  “Geesh, okay.” He leans against the back bar and sighs. “So you broke up with her over this?”

  “I wish it was that simple. I didn’t get to break up with her. She flipped out and thought I did this all on purpose. Like I had any fucking clue who she was when she walked up here and sat down. She was beautiful, and I needed a distraction. As fucked-up as that sounds, it’s the truth.”

  “Oh, I know.”

>   We both laugh, and I have to admit, it feels good to let out emotion in some way other than tears. “She basically told me I was lying to her. And I flipped out and left when she wasn’t listening to reason. And now, here we are. Me, working a Monday night so I don’t find a coke dealer and do enough blow that I can’t feel my legs, and her back in Chicago living her perfect little life.”

  “Please don’t do coke off a toilet seat.”

  I chuckle. “I would never.”

  “Thank you.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

  “Don’t tease me. I’d murder someone for a back rub right now.”

  “When we get off, I’m all yours.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I say softly, even though a part of me wishes he would so I could take my mind off Cecily, off Willow, off everything. But he’s gay and with my brother, and I refuse to sink to the level of awful human being simply because I’m broken again. Sigh. Broken again. So much for my stupid motto.

  He puts his other hand on my opposite shoulder and rubs gently. “I’m coming over. Period.”

  “Okay, but only if Armando meets us there with Chinese food.”

  “That will not be a problem.”

  I nod, caving to his beautiful eyes. I simply don’t have the energy to argue with him. I need to not be alone. And I hate feeling like that. All it does is remind me that Willow was right.

  I’m damaged.

  I am not good enough.

  And I do not deserve to be loved.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Francesca

  Six Months Later

  “Listen to me, hermana, you’re taking off New Year’s Eve this year. Period.”

  “Absolutely not,” I say as he moves past me in the kitchen. Max and him moved in with me, which I thought I’d hate, but I’ve really started to enjoy their presence. It’s been about five months, and we haven’t killed each other. I do miss the silence, and sometimes, their sexcapades are way too loud, but I turn the fan up in my room and thank God they’re not out screwing other people.

  “Come on. Just do it. Max is taking it off, and so should you. We can go to the Cosmo and have some fun.”

  “Armando, I cannot take off the busiest night of the year.”

  “Yes, you can. And you can’t argue with me. We pay two-thirds of your rent now. And you know you don’t need the money.”

  He does have a point.

  “And”—he takes a bite of his sandwich and chews, chews, chews, until he finishes with—“maybe we could find you someone?”

  “Oh sure, on New Year’s Eve. That sounds like a great plan.” I roll my eyes and push my bowl of cereal away. “Also, the likelihood that I can give up my shift and someone will take it two days before is slim.”

  “Negative,” Max says as he whips into the room, shirtless, wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs. I’ve basically sworn off all sex, but his body plays a nice interlude. He’s safe, and he’s my brother’s. And as much as I’d like to make everyone around me believe I’ve moved on from Cecily, I haven’t. And I don’t know if I ever will.

  “Huh?” Armando’s mouth is full, and Max glares at him.

  “I was saying negative to her saying she couldn’t give up her shift.” Max looks at me. “Sarah needs a shift and would probably even pay you if you give yours up.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m being serious.” He opens the fridge and takes the gallon of milk from the door. Armando has a glass for him within seconds, and little things like that make me so jealous. I want someone to get a glass from the cupboard for me. Pour the milk for me. Independence is fine, but being loved was wonderful, regardless of how short the lifespan was.

  “See?” Armando places the milk back in the fridge and turns to me. He moonwalks across the kitchen before he spins. “Give up your shift, hermana. Let’s get fucked up.”

  “Oh Jesus.”

  Max laughs. “We will not be doing drugs. Or gambling. Right, Armando?”

  “Right.” He spins again. “The clean and sober life, well, aside from alcohol.” He pauses, and Max raises his glass of milk to him. “It’s actually really working for me. Shocking, I know.” He points at the report card on the fridge. “I have straight As in the welding program. Not too shabby, if I must say.”

  I chuckle at him. He’s adorable. He’s grown up so much since deciding to take Max’s advances seriously. I’m proud of him, and I’m happy he’s finally found a niche that works. He needed direction and someone to show him he is worthy of love. Growing up without a father was harder on him than it was me. Finding a way out of his downward spiral wasn’t easy. “Fine,” I say with a wave. “I will give up my shift. Get Sarah on the horn. I want fifty bucks.”

  “She’ll pay a hundred.”

  “Well, okay then. Make it a Benjamin.”

  Armando slides over to me in his socks. “Yes! We’re gonna have a great time. I promise.”

  “I believe you,” I say as we hug each other.

  “Oh, this is going to be one for the record books,” I hear Max say as I feel his arms wrap around both me and Armando. We all laugh as he squeezes, and I thank God once again for these two boys saving me when I needed them most.

  Cecily

  “The MGM project is almost complete.”

  Jeff smiles as he flips through the pictures on the iPad I handed to him. He holds up one, then zooms in before he peers at me over the top of the tablet. “You switched their uniforms, too?”

  “I did.”

  “Nice. They look professional.”

  “Good.”

  “But not too stuffy. Approachable.”

  I nod as he continues to swipe at the screen.

  “I love the new layout of the website, too. Did your team work on that with theirs, or did we take the lead?”

  “I had Mark take the lead here at the home office. I sent him to Vegas in October for a week. He came back with most of it built, but we worked on the final touches with their new logo, and it’s been live since right before Christmas.”

  “Why didn’t you go to Vegas with him?”

  I freeze. I haven’t seen Jeff since before my initial trip. He’s been jet-setting with Tammy, who has bounced back from surgery really well. I’ve never seen him happier, which is great for me and my team. But I haven’t told him about Willow. Or the ties being severed between our company and her. Not that she would ever come back to consult for us…it’s just the fact of the matter. “I thought it was important he meet with the appropriate people. I worked with Julie to schedule the interviews he needed. And we received tons of feedback from the guests about player experiences before and after the launch of the new players’ program.”

  “I’m not mad you didn’t go, Cecily,” Jeff says, a smile across his lips. “I was only asking.”

  “Ah. Okay.”

  “So I’m no longer your boss.”

  I stare. What’s he getting at?

  “Would you consider us friends?”

  I don’t know how to answer without sounding like a complete buffoon. Sure, we’re friends, but I also know if you really hated what I was doing, boss or not, you’d have the board fire me without the slightest hesitation. Instead of speaking, I nod. Seems safer.

  “Can you tell me…” He pauses and leans forward in his seat. His forehead wrinkles, a playful look displayed. “Why Willow Carmichael was fired from her position at the Heights?”

  I gasp. It is purely involuntary. I had no idea that happened or why.

  “I take it you didn’t know?”

  I shake my head. I’ve still not said a word, and I don’t know if I should.

  “Yeah, I guess they’re keeping their mouths buttoned up over there.”

  “Shocking.”

  He laughs. “It is, isn’t it? Normally, casinos resemble a dysfunctional family. Lots of secrets with everyone dying for their side of the story to be heard.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I say softly.

&nb
sp; “That being said…” He stands and walks around my leather couch to the windows. He slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He looks good. Relaxed and healthy. I’m proud of him for letting the stress go. I don’t know if I’d be able to, especially if my wife was on the verge of—

  “The owner of the Heights has asked me to take them on as a client. Apparently, an on-staff marketing crew is a thing of the past, which I tried to tell him before, but he didn’t want to listen.”

  “Why didn’t—”

  “He ask you?” He turns. “He’s my brother-in-law. That’s why we got the suite when you were there the last time.” He laughs, shrugs, and heads back to the couch. “I have one more question, and I feel it’s important to ask in person.”

  Ugh. What the hell? “Okay.”

  “He said there is a bartender on staff who was quite smitten with you. You two were seen a few times together. Is this true?”

  I swallow.

  He finally sits, letting out a sigh as he sinks into the cushions. “I don’t think I need to remind you how delicate the relationships we cultivate are.”

  “You don’t, Jeff.”

  “And while not against the rules, sometimes emotions can cloud professional decisions we have to make.”

  “I know. I promise you, I know.”

  He scoots his tumbler of bourbon across the tabletop. The noise it makes sends a shudder down my spine, causing me to stiffen. Is he going to fire me? We weren’t even working with the Heights at the time. My stomach is churning. I cannot afford to lose my job. Not since the divorce was final. Not since I moved closer to work. Not since my entire life seemed to fall apart. “I don’t care what you do and who you do it with. Do you hear me?”

  I let out a breath and nod.

  “So it’s true?”

  I purse my lips before I nod. “It’s true.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I laugh. “Yeah. I’m okay.”