by Aurora Rey
That’s what hurt the worst. Even as anger danced a tango through her brain, the thing that threatened to suffocate her was the crushing disappointment. And even more crushing than the disappointment was the tiny voice in her head telling her she should have expected it all along. That she wasn’t for better or worse, in sickness and in health material. At least not in Cam’s eyes.
Even with the sleeping pill, she slept like shit. Her dreams were a jumble of memories—the night Philip groped her, the fight with Cam—and the worst parts of her imagination. In one snippet, she was in a wedding dress, ostensibly to marry Cam. But instead of Cam at the altar, it was Eric, waiting to fire her. Based on the way the woman in the next seat looked at her while they waited to deplane, she’d not been still or quiet.
She ordered a car to take her to her apartment and spent the better part of the ride trying not to throw up. She hoped it was the medication and the stress and not some new intolerance for being in a car. Or, worse, some kind of bug or food poisoning. At her building, there was no sign of Nevin. Not that he always worked the same shift, but the guy who greeted her didn’t even look familiar.
Once inside, she dropped her bag on the floor and the stack of accumulated mail on the kitchen island. She looked around the space and had that odd sensation of it feeling at once familiar and foreign. The combination made her anxious and the queasiness from the car only intensified. Again, the sleeping pills were probably not the best idea.
Lauren was just resolving to chuck the rest of the bottle when her stomach took another lurch. She bolted in the direction of the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before losing the meager contents of her stomach. She flushed them away and rested her cheek on the glass of the shower enclosure. God, she hated throwing up.
She sat there for a few minutes, taking slow breaths and willing the churning to subside. When she was semi-confident the worst had passed, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. In the kitchen, she rooted around in the liquor cabinet and found a single, blessed can of ginger ale. She poured it over ice and took it with her into the bedroom. It gave her that same unsettled feeling as the rest of the house, but her stomach didn’t revolt. She stripped off her clothes, pulled on an ancient NYU T-shirt, and crawled into bed.
Whether it was the exhaustion of the last few days, the jet lag, or the remnants of sedative in her system, she slept. Fitful and filled with strange dreams, but she slept. She woke up to the sound of her intercom buzzing and for a moment, had no idea where she was or where the noise was coming from. Although tempted to ignore it, she stumbled out of bed and toward the door.
“Yes?”
“Oh, my God. If you don’t stop ignoring my texts I’m going to microchip you.” Anja’s voice radiated exasperation.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Come on up.” She hit the button to clear Anja into the building and used the minute it would take her to get upstairs to pull on a pair of yoga pants. She opened the door before Anja had the chance to knock.
“Seriously. You have got to stop scaring me like this. You were supposed to text me when you got in.”
Lauren apologized again and described the hours since she’d landed—the freaking out, the puking, and the weird sleep.
Anja shook her head and gave her a pitying look. “You look terrible.”
“Really? That’s the angle you’re going to work right now?”
“No, I mean, you really look terrible. Should you be going to the doctor?”
Lauren waved a hand back and forth. “Don’t be dramatic. I’m fine.”
Anja frowned but didn’t argue. “When did you eat last?”
Lauren winced. “You don’t want to know.”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to order up some food. I’ll even let you pick. And then we’re going to watch cheesy movies and not think about the world for twenty-four hours. The deposition is day after tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah.” She’d given herself a couple days’ cushion so she could meet with the attorney she’d retained to represent her at the deposition and in any future proceedings.
“Perfect.”
And just like that, a huge portion of the weight on her chest lifted. Not all, obviously. She remained connected to reality, and Anja wasn’t an actual miracle worker, but her presence—calm, sure, and brimming with Anja’s secret blend of no-nonsense affection—did wonders. “I love you, you know.”
“Right back at you, lady.” Anja gave her another hug and then planted her fists on her hips. “So, what are we eating?”
Suddenly, Lauren was ravenous. Ravenous, but not stupid. So they ordered matzo ball soup from the deli around the corner. Anja added on some kugel, insisting it was pretty bland, too, and that bad days deserved desserts.
They ate, they watched Dirty Dancing, and then they climbed into bed and cuddled. It was the kind of friendship she’d craved as a child and not really ever had. Or what she’d dreamed about when she thought about having a sister. Half her life might be a giant mess, but she still had a few things going for her. She’d hold on to that as she fumbled through the next few days.
* * *
“What do you mean, gone?” Cam swallowed the panic that welled up and threatened to take over her body. Surely, she’d misheard. Even through her anger, the thought of never seeing Lauren again threatened to suffocate her.
“Not gone, gone. Not permanently.”
Oh. The panic subsided enough for her to focus on the conversation at hand. She’d have to sort out the whys of it later, but that could wait for a stiff drink and solitude. In the meantime, her anger swooped back in.
“So, where is she? Off in search of her next rundown village to save?” She flinched at the vitriol in her voice but didn’t try to take it back.
“I’m not sure it’s my place to tell.”
“Seriously, Charlotte? How long have we been friends? Are you really going to tell me your loyalty is to her now? Especially now?”
“It’s not about that.”
“No? Then why don’t you tell me what it’s about so I can try to be a little less pissed off at you?” She clung to the notion this was about Charlotte’s confidences and not about needing to know where Lauren had run off to.
“Lauren was assaulted by an old work colleague.”
“What?” Like the initial panic of learning Lauren had left, Cam’s reaction was instant and visceral. “Like, just now? Here?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It happened before she came here.”
“Oh.”
“I guess he came on to her at a work party and she pushed him off and he got aggressive.”
“Wait. Do you mean sexually assaulted?” Just the thought made her sick to her stomach.
“I mean, yes. Not rape, but groping. She kneed him in the groin.”
Was it wrong to take grim satisfaction in Lauren defending herself in a moment like that? On the heels of that thought came wondering why Lauren hadn’t told her. “Okay. What does this have to do with her leaving town?”
“I guess he’s a class-A prick and Lauren isn’t the only one he went after. A bunch of other women she used to work with are suing the company for a culture of harassment.” Charlotte shook her head in that way so many women did when talking about that sort of thing—disgusted, but not surprised. “Oh, and wrongful termination. I think that’s what she called it. Getting fired for crap reasons.”
“She was fired? When?” Cam’s head swam with a thousand questions. At the top of the list: how Lauren had gone through all that and not confided in anyone. But she had the answer to that one. Lauren had confided in Charlotte, not her.
“Right before she came here. That’s why she decided to stay and make a go of it.”
“She told you all of this?” Cam tried to keep the accusation out of her voice.
“Only a little. I got most of it from Anja.”
“Anja, Lauren’s friend? The photographer?” It made her feel marginally better t
hat Lauren hadn’t considered Charlotte more of a confidante than her.
“Yeah. We’ve been talking.” Charlotte gave her a sheepish look.
“Talking?”
“More than talking.”
“Did you sleep with her? Are you still?” Lauren gone, dealing with God knows what, and her best friend and Lauren’s best friend hooking up. Seriously, could her life get any more complicated?
Charlotte shrugged. “Yes and yes?”
Not that she wanted to change the subject, but her affection for Charlotte ran deep, and she hated how often Charlotte had her hopes dashed by people who wouldn’t even entertain an open relationship. “Does she know you don’t do monogamy?”
Charlotte smiled. “She’s poly, too.”
“Wow. Okay, that’s awesome. I want to hear all about it, truly, but—”
“But you’re in love with Lauren and you’re freaking out.”
The comment stopped Cam in her tracks. When it came down to it, that was exactly it. She’d been so wrapped up in herself and her anger, she’d managed to kick Lauren while she was down. And she had no idea how, or even if, she was going to make it right.
“You fucked up, didn’t you?”
Did she ever. “Yeah.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I think I have to go to New York.” Only after she said the words did the reality of it hit her. She had a passport but had never been farther than Germany. And now she was prepared to fly overseas on a moment’s notice to try to win back the woman she was in love with. “Is that a terrible idea?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No.”
“No, I shouldn’t go or no, it’s not a terrible idea.”
“You should go. You should absolutely, definitely go.”
Cam pressed fingers to her temples. “She shouldn’t be going through this alone.”
“Agreed. It’s always better to have the woman you love by your side.”
She did love Lauren, and she wanted to be by her side. “What if I’m too late?”
“You’re not too late.”
“You don’t actually know this. You just hope it’s the case.” At this point, she was asking about the future of their relationship as much as the deposition.
Charlotte mulled that over for a moment. “I mean, I don’t know for certain, but I have a good feeling. I mean, she’s got plans to come back. That has to count for something.”
It did count for something. Cam just wasn’t sure it counted where she needed it to. Yes, Lauren had an attachment to this place, but at this point, did Lauren have any attachment to her? She’d been such an ass. “I have to try, right?”
Charlotte nodded. “It’s very romantic.”
“It’s only romantic if it works.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you.”
A couple of weeks ago, the idea wouldn’t have seem far-fetched. Hell, a week ago, she was pretty damn close to being in love with Lauren herself. No, not damn close. She was all the way in love with Lauren. But she hadn’t said so. She’d convinced herself it was too soon, that the timing wasn’t right. And then the rug had been pulled out from under her, and love was the absolute last thing on her mind.
She tried to conjure Lauren’s exact words from their fight, but couldn’t. She’d been so overwhelmed by her hurt and her anger, so convinced Lauren had lied about her intentions all along. Cam hadn’t paid much attention to her explanations, hadn’t wanted to hear the marketing guru put a spin on her just like she’d put a spin on everything else.
But she hadn’t known the whole story. Would that have changed things? Even in her current state of self-loathing, she had to think she’d have been more understanding, more compassionate. Not that it mattered now. She’d said what she’d said and now Lauren was gone, off to face something Cam didn’t even want to imagine. Alone.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Lauren sat in the small waiting area, hands folded in her lap. The lawyer she’d hired, a woman who specialized in this sort of thing, sat beside her. She studied the cream walls and gray patterned carpet that screamed generic office space and willed herself not to fidget. It was funny. She’d imagined sitting on a wooden bench in the hallway of an ornate courthouse, called in to sit on a witness stand and give her testimony to a dozen of her peers. She knew that’s not how depositions worked, but she’d watched perhaps one too many Law & Order reruns.
She picked up her phone and realized she’d missed a text from Anja. Give ’em hell.
She smiled and sent back an A Few Good Men GIF. That got her some smileys in return. She promised to call when it was all over.
Lauren set the phone in her purse, then picked it up. She pulled up her last exchange with Cam. It had been a week ago, the day before the magazine feature came out. It was silly flirting, plans to have dinner the next night.
Did Cam even know she’d come back to New York. And if so, did she care?
In hindsight, she could see why Cam didn’t take the feature well. Lauren hadn’t been dishonest, but she had also let Alejandro frame the story the way he wanted, the way that would make the Rose & Crown seem like this up-and-coming hipster mecca, rescued by Lauren from antiquated oblivion. Fixed up and ready for the right developer to add it to their portfolio. Sure, the tone was a little smarmy, but that came with the territory.
She knew that, expected it. But even if Cam didn’t, it didn’t warrant blowing up like she did.
The problem was that Cam had to go and be so damn unreasonable. She’d not even given Lauren the chance to explain. By rights, she was the one who should be livid. To be so quickly dismissed, to have Cam immediately assume the worst. Like the time they’d spent together meant nothing. Like they were back at square one, or worse.
“Ms. Montgomery? Ms. Ortiz?”
She looked up to find a woman in a boxy suit looking at her expectantly. Lauren squared her shoulders and nodded at her attorney. Camila offered her a reassuring smile before saying, “Yes.”
“We’re ready for you now.”
She followed the woman into the room, sat in the vacant chair the woman indicated. Camila took the seat next to her. Four other people sat around the conference table, all in drab suits and with boring haircuts. Was it some kind of corporate lawyer code to look bland and uninteresting? Or maybe it was something about the subject matter. Perhaps sexual harassment cases brought out the frumpy in everyone.
In any case, she didn’t recognize any of them. That was a relief, really. She’d been told Philip wouldn’t be present, which she was grateful for, but even the attorneys for KesslerAldridge didn’t look familiar. They’d probably been brought in from the outside. Neater that way.
“Ms. Montgomery, we appreciate you taking the time to come in and speak with us,” brown suit lawyer said.
“Of course.”
Gray suit lawyer nodded. “Yes, especially since you’re currently residing in England.”
“I’m there on a project. I’m still based primarily in New York.” She had no idea why she said that—why it mattered to these people or whether or not it was really true—but it was out of her mouth before she’d thought it through. And taking it back wouldn’t earn her points for credibility.
Boxy suit gave her an encouraging smile. “Have you done a deposition before?”
“I have not.”
“Okay, we’ll take a minute to go through how it works, including the fact that you’ll be under oath and how your testimony might be used.”
Lauren nodded. She’d done some research on her own. She didn’t believe in going into any situation blind, and she and Camila had done a dry run the day before. But she listened, relieved that everything they told her lined up with what she’d read, what Camila had told her to expect.
“If you’re ready, then, we’ll get started. If at any time you need to take a break, please don’t hesitate to say so.”
“Sounds good.” At this point, she just wanted to get it over with already.<
br />
“Would you please state your full name for the record?”
Lauren answered. And so it went. The length of her employment, her professional relationship with Philip. Camila interjected here and there, keeping things from straying from the issue at hand. When they asked her about the night at the bar, Lauren froze, just like when she and Camila had gone over it in her office. She’d worked so hard to push it from her mind, she feared it would be gone, that she’d not be able to conjure the specifics. But of course that wasn’t the case. It was all there, permanently etched into her mind.
She’d stepped onto the small balcony of the Century Club and breathed in the chilly night air. The space was dim, not yet set up for the crowds that would spill out of the bar looking to bask in the arrival of spring. The sound of celebration faded, partners and creatives congratulating each other on landing the hottest up-and-coming hotel chain as a client.
“You were amazing today, Montgomery.”
She’d turned and found Philip Burke standing behind her. They’d been hired at the same time and she’d been worried they’d be in constant competition with one another. Instead, they’d spurred each other on, rising through the ranks of KesslerAldridge and teaming up on some of the agency’s biggest clients. She’d smiled at him. “You, too.”
The pitch had gone even better than she could have dreamed, and she fully expected it to put her on the short list for partner. And the sooner she became partner, the sooner she’d have the experience and name recognition to strike out on her own. “We make a good team.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing.” He closed the distance between them, standing so close she could smell whiskey on his breath. He put a hand on her arm. “You’re an incredible woman, Lauren.”
Despite the prickle of discomfort along her skin and the flash of warning bells in her brain, she’d maintained the smile. It was Philip. She trusted him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”