by Trixie More
Dorothy’s presentation had been outstanding. Really, better than outstanding, naturally, since so much of Kathy was in it. Dorothy had learned well from her. He loved Kathy’s work. Here, behind his papers, in the quiet of his office, with the noise from the street seeping in, he could admit it. Her work was full of hope and a sense of personal power; that soothed him. He closed his eyes. Dorothy’s campaign had taken what he loved best about Kathy’s work and upped it exponentially. It wasn’t in Kathy to go that over the top dramatic, but it certainly was in Dorothy.
The vulnerability on Kathy’s face when Adam had accused Dorothy of plagiarizing had caused an answering pain in Peter, like a steel band tightening around his chest. But what had surprised him more was her reaction to the fraternization issue. At the mention of the word, Kathy had ever so slightly jumped in her seat. A moment later, she’d pulled her chair away from Peter and left a cold draft in her place. He ran his hands over his face. What was he going to do about Kathy?
His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he answered it before he fully recognized the caller’s name. Doug Lloyd.
“Hello, Peter Brookings here,” he said by rote.
“Peter. How did it go with Dorothy’s presentation today?”
Peter was shocked. He looked around his office almost as if he expected to see Doug in the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, how did it go? Was it any good?”
Peter cleared his throat. “Actually, it was very good.”
“And did you fire her?”
“Adam did. For fraternization, theoretically,” he replied. Why did this man care so much about this woman? It had to have something to do with him being on the board of directors for Carl Johansen’s company. That didn’t explain why he’d been so freaked out by her holding hands with Walker though.
“The campaign was good?” Doug seemed eager, another novelty.
“Yeah. Yes.”
“Hire her back.”
“What? Are you crazy? No,” Peter said. “You have no idea what a side show we just had here.”
“Yeah, but what if she takes that campaign to another company?” Doug sounded more like Doug now, which was to say, less human and more calculating.
“She can’t,” Peter said. “She was working for us when she created it. None of the others will touch it.” He almost added, I’ll make sure of it, but he bit his tongue.
“If you keep her, you’ll be certain that the campaign won’t see the light of day.” Doug hesitated. “And I can tell Carl I helped save her job.”
Now things felt more normal. This was the Doug he understood. Peter didn’t like him, but at least he was acting like himself.
“Okay …” he said, letting his voice raise up at the end, hesitating. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, she absolutely will have to stop seeing Walker.”
“Okay…” he drawled again.
“And if you keep her on, I’ll convince Carl that Cogent would be a perfect partner for their new campaign. It’s going to be a green building project.”
Now, that? That was interesting.
“All right, I’ll go see if I can catch her before HR processes her termination,” Peter said. “But I’m not promising anything.”
The bottoms of Dorothy’s feet were black. A truly embarrassing shade of filth and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She cut across the lobby and found the ladies’ room, slinging her foot up on the sink, dropping her shoes to the floor, not giving a rat’s ass about the eye popping looks she was being given. Fuck them. Fuck Edward and fuck all these women too.
She got busy washing her feet and drying them with about twenty paper towels before she put her pretty beige shoes back on.
Edward had walked out on her twice. He was the most supportive man she’d ever known and he’d left her again. What did that say about her? And what the heck did that say about him? Right? That’s what she wanted to know. She racked her brain.
Back upstairs at Cogent, Lisa stopped her at the door. “I’m sorry, Dorothy. I need to get security to walk you to HR before you can go get the items from your desk, honey.”
The warm sympathy she heard in Lisa’s voice made her eyes sting. She would not cry. She had nothing to cry about. She was alive.
“Thanks, Lisa. I’ll wait.”
George, the security guard came down in the elevator and collected Dorothy and took her to the human resource department. They explained everything she needed to know, she supposed. She’d never been fired before and, like her dirty feet and the disapproving looks from the other women, she couldn’t get herself to care. They asked her to sign some release documents but she just shook her head. She was in no frame of mind to read anything. Her mind was focused on Edward. Damn him.
In a fog, she followed George back to her cubicle where the packing cartons were already waiting for her. How the heck was she going to carry this stuff home? And where was home? Was it with Allie? For how long? If she didn’t find another job, she would be back at her parent’s house.
She looked at the photo of Carl, Helen and herself as a toddler. Her mom looked so happy, her warm expression showed clearly, she was smiling at the baby in her lap. Carl, however, had eyes only for Helen. He was smiling at his happy wife. Had Carl been glad to adopt her? Had he wanted a baby or had he wanted to make Helen happy?
Don’t you get tired of it, Kathy’s voice asked her.
Who was saving her now?
She picked up the framed newspaper clipping and stared at the grainy, yellow photo of the young woman who had been her mother, who died before turning twenty, who left no clue behind to indicate who Dorothy’s father might have been. Not one bit of information existed by the time Dorothy was old enough to ask for it. The ramshackle trailer homes were long gone and the entire clan had been wiped out in a single night. So that was it. Carl was the only father she would ever know.
Carl hadn’t liked Ed, and that had been a little bit … what? Cool, she guessed. It had seemed a little bit inspiring to Dorothy. She shrugged and put the framed clipping into her box. It wasn’t as if she could have ever rebelled against the people who saved her. But that simmering anger Ed had, what was the cause of that? She started to dump the papers from her file drawer into the garbage but George cleared his throat and shook his head.
“Dot, let them do that. Just worry about your personal stuff,” he said gently.
Her nose burned and she had to blink a bit to hold the tears in at his gentle tone of voice. She opened her snack drawer and put a box of crackers into her little box. When she had the drawer empty, she looked up to find Peter Brookings leaning against the filing cabinet beside her cubicle. His arms were crossed in front of him and his shoulder was leaning on the cabinet. When she looked at him, he pushed off from it. When had she ever thought he was handsome?
Edward’s face, looking down at her, sprung to mind unbidden. His face above her, so close, asking her what do you want more?
The campaign, she had answered, her heart pounding as she said it. I want to save your company.
I chose this, he’d said sitting on her couch the day he’d met her parents. And today he’d hissed at her. I would have chosen you over my business any day. Clearly, he had taken her lie to Adam seriously. She sighed and sat back on her heels.
“What do you want, Peter?” Her voice sounded diffident to her own ears. How was it that getting fired and losing her boyfriend wasn’t just the end of this freakin’ day? How was it that this day included speaking civilly, to Peter, of all people?
“I spoke to Kathy after the meeting,” Peter said. He crouched down beside her and looked her in the eyes. “She told me she didn’t work on that campaign at all.”
Dorothy shrugged. She cleared out the few items she had in her bottom drawer and stood up. One pencil drawer to go. She yanked it out.
“It was very good, Dorothy. That was a great presentation.”
She grabbed a handful of pens and tossed the
m into the box a bit harder than she should have. It felt good. What the heck did he intend by saying that?
“I still can’t approve of the products, but the work you did was good.”
It was good. Peter was saying her work was good. She didn’t want this man’s approval but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that it felt good to hear it. She looked at him. “Thanks.”
“I think Adam might have made a mistake, Dorothy. I would be willing to talk to Adam. We aren’t keeping the Walker and Birkeland account, but we might be able to find a way to keep you.”
“What about the fraternizing? I thought that was what this was all about?”
Peter twitched his mouth downward, a facial shrug of sorts. “I’m assuming that you and Edward aren’t an item. Am I wrong?”
Dorothy stared at him.
Her mind was completely blank for a moment. She could tell by his expression and the slight half step backward he took, that Peter realized the moment her anger boiled up inside her. It was all she could do not to yell at him. To screech, of course, they weren’t an item anymore, not after that morning. And what was this, the campaign was good shit? NOW? Now was the time he came and started to act like a human? The reasonable part of her wanted to take him up on his offer, but she just couldn’t. If Ed didn’t want her, fuck him. Fuck them all.
From now on, Dorothy was saving herself. And hell, she might just save the whole world too, because she had really meant what she said. She wanted this campaign. She wanted Ed and she wanted to save his company.
She closed her file box, picked it up by its cardboard handles and held it at her waist. She looked past Peter’s shoulder. “George, can you walk me out and help me get a cab?”
A little smile crossed George’s aging face. “Absolutely.”
She looked Peter straight in the eyes. “Thanks, but I think I’m done here.”
She left the building feeling better than she had in hours. She wanted to think she felt better than she ever had, but that was a lie. How she’d felt when she ran her presentation that morning? That was the best she’d ever felt. And since today was turning out to be such a smashing, rat’s nest of success and suck, she figured why stop now? She gave the cab driver an address uptown.
Next, she would go to Edward’s. Maybe she would give him a piece of her mind, maybe she would just tell him goodbye with her damn shoes on. But she knew one thing. She was done waiting for anyone to rescue her sorry ass.
The tail lights of cars flashed in red swathes along the avenue as a column of traffic headed uptown. Dorothy watched as the pedestrians wove past each other, a counter point to the cars. Everybody on the move. Beside her, the white file box jostled and rattled with the movement of the taxi. The closer they got to Edward’s apartment, the less confident she felt. In her pocketbook, her cell phone tempted her. There, if she wanted to, she could find out more about the mysterious court case Allie had found last night.
If she could resist searching for him on the Internet last night, she could resist it now, she told herself. She was going to do this like an adult. She was going to ask him directly.
The cab pulled up to Edward’s, she paid and hauled her file box out with her. Standing on the steps, she pulled out the phone and sent him a text.
I’m outside. Would you like to try to talk about this?
A moment later, the door buzzed. She pulled it open and wrestled the box into the foyer and over to the elevator. She wished she felt comfortable leaving it down by the door, but this neighborhood was a little rough. She thought about that on the ride up. Why did Edward live here? The rent had to be a lot less than it was at her place. Maybe he didn’t have as much money as she thought he had. She’d never really questioned it. How was his business doing? She realized she had no idea. There was so much about him she didn’t know. Suddenly the box in her arms felt a lot heavier.
When the elevator doors opened, Edward was there. A frown creased his forehead, lined the sides of his eyes where he was squinting a bit, looking unsure of himself. Not the Edward she was expecting after the debacle in the subway, but then maybe she was getting used to the unpredictability of the man. Or maybe she was just dog-tired. She stepped out of the elevator and set the box on the floor.
“Hi,” he said.
“That’s all you got?” she asked. Yes, she was tired. Well, he was going to see her own changeable nature. “I screamed my brains out for you like a lunatic and you told me to get over myself. Now all you got is ‘hi’?” She pressed her hand to her face. This was not coming out right. She was going to be an adult. This was all just more childishness. More waiting for someone else to do what needed doing.
“I’m sorry …” he began.
She let her hand fall and looked at him. Worry and sadness, that was all she saw there. “No. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t come over here to fight with you, or for you to fix anything.”
“Why did you come?” he asked. He bent and picked up her file box. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk.”
She nodded and followed him in. She kicked off her patent leather heels and sighed in relief. At least there was that.
He nodded at her feet. “Are your feet OK?”
“Just tired.”
“Not cut?”
For a minute she was puzzled, then she remembered, she’d been barefoot … did he even know that?
“You had your shoes off … I thought maybe you’d been barefoot today.”
She lifted her chin and gazed at him steadily, wondering what he would make of it. This time she didn’t have any feelings of uncertainty. Maybe she just didn’t care what he thought.
“I was.”
He nodded. He tipped his chin toward her dress. She looked down to see the creased and wrinkled linen. It wasn’t the type of suit to be running around and getting fired in. “Do you want to borrow some sweatpants?”
A part of her wanted to say no. To yank the file box from him and make him stand right there and have it out. But another part of her was so damn tired and his warm, soft, clothes, and maybe his arms around her too, sounded just too easy. She nodded.
Without a word, he disappeared into the storage room, returning with gray sweats and a Mets shirt. She took them and disappeared into the bathroom. She took her time. Washed her face, combed out her hair. The shirt smelled like Edward, so she hugged it to her face as she sat on the closed toilet, just letting all the little bits of herself congeal and settle back together, just waiting for a moment when she might recognize herself. After a bit, it was clear no such moment was coming and she took her new, serious self back out to the living room.
Edward brought her a coffee and sat with her on the couch.
“I didn’t expect to see you again,” he said. He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I mean, I was so harsh with you, I didn’t think you would ever speak to me again.”
“Did you want me to?” She realized she wasn’t seeking validation. She really didn’t know the answer to her own question.
“Dorothy.” He looked away. “I always want to see you again.” His voice got stronger. He looked her in the eyes. “I will always want to see you again.” He spread his hands out before him. “I will always want that.”
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“No. No. That’s not what I meant. I told you I pick you. You, when you told them you were offended at the idea that you and I …” he looked away and stood up abruptly, walked to the little bow window and started pulling down the shades. “What was that about, Dorothy?”
“What was that about? That was about me trying to save my job, Ed. That was about me trying to get them to keep me and the campaign. Save me, save you … it was about saving it all, Ed. Why the hell didn’t you back me up?”
He looked at her incredulously. “They were never going to keep you, Dorothy. Only a fool would have thought otherwise and you know it.”
“I know no such thing. I know that we had four days to make a kick ass campaig
n and we did it.”
“You did it,” he said softly.
“We did it,” she insisted. Her jaw tensed, she felt so … reckless. “We did it, you idiot. And we had them eating out of our hands.”
“No. I mean yes, they loved your campaign. Anyone would. It was beyond anything I had hoped for when I first came to Adam. But they were never going to handle the account. All that shit about us, about clients and employees … that would never have come up if they wanted that account. They were looking for a way out and they were going to find it.” He pushed his hands through his hair and exhaled in a rush of frustration. “You must have known it, and if you knew it, why would you bother denying our relationship? Why, unless you really felt that way?”
She was stunned. How could that thought, that statement even be a thing? Hadn’t she humiliated herself over and over for him and didn’t that shamelessness prove the distance she would go for him?
“How could you even say those words to me, Ed?”
“I thought we had something real. Then you said you were offended by me. Obviously, something changed.”
“What? What could have possibly changed between the moment I finished the presentation, that I killed myself to create, on the off chance that maybe, just maybe I could help you … and the minute that Adam accused me of basically stealing it all from someone else?” She jumped up from the couch and stalked over to him. She pointed her finger at him and poked him in the chest with it. “Huh? What?” Poke. “What could have changed?” Poke. “I want to know, mister.”
“Not today. Not today. Last night. After I left. I thought …” his voice trailed off.
“Wait, what? You think something changed with me after you left me in a lurch outside my apartment last night? For someone who says they care about me, you spend a lot of time leaving me in the middle of things.”
She could see in his eyes the minute he went there. “Uh, uh. No way, buddy. You are so not going there. You are not making this about that.” She took a step back and he moved into the vacuum between them, taking all the space and all the air with him. She retreated further, turning her back and actually heading down the tiny hallway which, by the way, led to the bedroom. Where the hell did she even think she was going? She could feel him right behind her. She turned and stopped them both.