by Ellie Rowe
“Temper, Nat. Now, if you’re finished being a stubborn, fucking child, how about you and I blow this dump and hash it out over a couple beers, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, and something within me snaps.
“Let me ask you something, sir, why in God’s name would I take someone back who is actively trying to ruin my life?”
Blake throws his head back and laughs, he fucking laughs.
“I already told you, Natalie, I’m not to blame here! If you and your little toy didn’t want all the attention, you should’ve thought of that before you fucked him in my suite —”
“Shut your mouth, Blake. I’m warning you.” I hiss, as the table near us gets up to leave. I’m trying to watch them out of my periphery, terrified they’ll complain. But, what’s the use? Blake’s already won, hasn’t he?
This job is over.
“You’re warning me? That’s rich. Now you can continue to lose everything, or you can have it all. With me.”
“Go to hell,” I hiss, allowing my voice to get louder. If I’ve already lost the job, I might as well go down fighting. Blake shakes his head.
“What do you have to gain by going against me, baby? I’ll find you. I’ll always find you. And I’m not gonna stop until you realize what a terrible fucking idea it was to leave me. I’m not gonna stop until you take me back.”
“You can wait until hell freezes over, Blake, because that will never happen —”
“Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret, Natalie,” Blake warns, and his eyes flash with fury.
I’ve had enough.
“Likewise.”
Without another word, I take the hot cup of Greek coffee, still steaming at the table, and dump it on his lap, letting the cup fall on his balls. The shrieking that ensues is music to my ears.
Thirty-Two
Roger
“Well, Roger, it’s good to see you,” says Lou Wilson, the president of my company’s board. Lou is a tall, broad-shouldered black man in his 50s. His gray hair and graying goatee give him a regal look, which is appropriate because he’s also a prince of a human being.
When Tabitha left me, Lou and his wife let me crash at one of their apartments in SoHo, so I wouldn’t languish at my place where I was reminded of her everywhere I looked. Then, for the next year or so, they had me over regularly for Sunday dinners with their family.
The party life I kicked into high gear eventually put an end to the familiar part of our relationship. Nevertheless, I’ll always trust Lou with more than just my business.
Which is why it sucks that I need to keep him out of the loop on this one.
Lou sits across from me at the long conference table in our fishbowl-style meeting room. The other eight members of the board flank us on either side – serious-looking men and women who don’t all agree on my value as a human being, but are united in their love of the money I make them.
Right now, they’re also united on their level of discomfort toward me.
“I must say,” interjects Ellen, a short, skeleton-thin woman in her seventies, “the direction of the company has been a little erratic of late.”
She has more money than a few Saudi oil barons thrown together. She’s dressed, as always, in a red skirt and matching jacket, with a flower-print silk scarf draped carefully around her neck. Her naturally blond hair is cut in a tight bob. She’s all business.
“755 comes to mind,” she adds.
“Turns out, it was a bad partnership,” is all I say to that.
“Your behavior has been increasingly erratic, as well,” adds another board member. He came on board a few months ago, and I can never remember his name. He’s got a whiny voice, and so, in my head, he’s always been ‘Mr. Whiny-kins’. Sometimes you’ve gotta keep yourself amused at these board meetings.
“And is it true,” Mr. Whiny-kins goes on, “that we just bought some pigsty in Lower Manhattan?”
“No,” I chime in, “that was something I did with my own cash.”
“Is that supposed to make us feel better?” Ellen asks. “It makes me question your present state of mind.”
I flash them my best ‘let’s-make-deal’ smile. “Well, I’ve got some good news.”
“Terrific,” Lou says, spreading his hands expectantly. “Let’s hear it.”
He and I make eye contact for a moment, and I can read what he’s thinking — Please make this something good so I can support you.
Well, fingers crossed.
I stand up, buttoning my suit jacket.
Then I dive into the pitch, “I’ve got something big brewing.”
Smiles all around. Good start.
I press on, saying, “We have a holding over in Jersey City and also Brooklyn that I want to offload.” Now I watch them all shift uncomfortably. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of plans for the capital.”
I can tell I’m losing them. They all exchange concerned glances. Ellen looks to Lou for some guidance. Lou considers me a moment.
“All right, Roger,” he finally says. “You’re a smart guy. You’ve never steered us wrong before. Walk us through the plans.”
Here we go. Sorry, Lou, I think. Then I tell them, “I can’t.”
Stunned silence. Better than being shouted at, I guess.
“’Can’t’ what?” Lou asks, a smile frozen on his face.
“Can’t walk you through my plans.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” says Mr. Whiny-kins.
Ellen ignores him. Instead, she shoots me a stern look. “And why can’t you?”
“Ellen, Lou, everybody. I respect you all. I hope the feeling is mutual.” No response. At least, they don’t say ‘no.’ “I think when it comes to this company’s dealings, I’ve earned a little wiggle room.”
“‘Wiggle room’?” Mr. Whiny-kins whines.
“So, here’s the thing, gang. On this move, I need you to either be with me… or get out.” That freezes them all. “After all the money I’ve made you, you ought to trust me by now.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Mr. Whiny-kins cuts in. “You can’t fire us.”
“I understand, but I’ll buy each and every one of you out.”
OK, they know how deadly serious I am now.
In unison, they all slide their eyes to look at Lou. His smile is gone.
“Can’t you at least give us a hint as to where all this is going?” he asks, still looking for a lifeline.
Again, as one, all eyes slide back to me. My smile is gone, too. I wish I could give him the lifeline, but I can’t. “I’ve got a major capital investment in mind that will make you all a lot of money.”
“Buildings?” asks Ellen, one pencil-thin eyebrow cocked.
“There may be acquisitions involved,” I concede, “but, not necessarily buildings.”
Ellen actually looks intrigued.
Mr. Whiny-kins continues to whine. “This is absurd! It’s not enough we put up with your galivanting all over the city, getting your bare ass in the papers. Now, we’re supposed to follow you on some cockamamie deal we don’t even get details on?”
I look him dead in the eye, “Yep.” Then I sit and lock gazes with Lou, “Call a vote.”
Lou shifts forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table. “I motion we vote on the… well, we’ll call it ‘Plan’, for now.”
There’s a pause. Ellen, still staring at me, eyebrow still raised, finally says, “I second the motion.”
Lou nods. “All those in favor?”
“Aye,” comes every voice at the table, except one.
“Opposed?” Lou asks.
Mr. Whiny-kins is the only one who hasn’t spoken. He stays quiet.
“Abstain?” Lou asks him, annoyed.
“Aye,” says Mr. Whiny-kins softly, staring at the table.
Lou stands. “All right, Roger. We’re trusting you.”
Everyone files out. Ellen’s eyes never leave mine as she goes. There’s a look in her eyes that actually seems… sensuous? Like
this kind of daredevil business deal turns her on? I might be intrigued if she weren’t old enough to be my mom and framed like a skeleton to boot. Instead, I’m a bit creeped out.
The last one to leave is Lou. He pauses by the door of the conference room and looks like he’s about to say something. Instead, he winks, then heads off.
OK. Another piece of the plan falls into place! I’m too excited to sit, so I leap to my feet even as I whip out my cell and call Gerald.
“Hey, Roger,” he says tensely. He’s been tense ever since I started teasing out the details to him. Well, whatever, I pay him to be tense.
“What’s the word?”
“The case is moving forward.”
“That’s great news.”
“Are you sure about this, Roger?”
“You know what? I actually am.”
I hang up and feel my entire body begin to buzz with electricity. Every cell in my body hums as I realize one important thing: This is all going to work!
It wasn’t until I lost Natalie that I realized what my life was missing. A gaping hole in my psyche, or my soul, or whatever kind of inner-human metaphor floats your boat. A hole that, of course, money, booze, drugs and women could never fill.
Now I’m strategizing to get it done. I’ve never felt so competent, so confident, in my business or my personal life. Having money and notoriety smooth a lot of paths, make things easier.
This is different. I’m smoothing the paths myself. No, fuck that, I’m forging new paths. Instead of scheming for the money play or the power play, I’m reaching for something higher.
It feels pretty fucking fantastic.
The fact that it’s invigorating my business as well as my personal life is just a plus. Or maybe more than that. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m doing exactly the right thing for once in my crazy life.
I step out of the conference room and discover Ellen has been waiting for me. She unfolds her body from the deep chair she’s been sitting on and stalks over to me.
“Interesting meeting,” she says. She lays a hand on my chest. “I’m curious to know just a wee bit more.”
“All in good time, Ellen,” I say, as graciously as I can. I remove her hand from my chest and give it a kiss. I can’t afford to have this woman feel jilted and turn on me. “All in good time.”
“Escort me back to my office,” she coos. Geez, this lady’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.
“Actually,” I counter, “I’m starving. I need to get lunch.”
“That’s terrific. I’ll call D’Argent and get us a table.”
“Actually,” I say, “I’m feeling a little less fancy.”
“Like what?”
“Like… diner food,” I tell her. Then I sidestep her and make for the elevators.
“’Diner food’?” Ellen calls after me, appalled. “What sort of ‘diner food’?”
The elevator arrives. I step in and look back at her.
“I’m thinking… Greek.”
Thirty-Three
Natalie
Christ, I knew I loved these people. The nice thing about a family-owned diner is, they let me keep my job after I explained who got hot coffee dumped on their lap and why.
The booth next to me that I was so worried about actually went to Mama (who really runs the joint) to let her know what was happening. One of the cousins caught sight of it, too, through the kitchen window and corroborated my story.
“Dogs!” she had spat. “All of them! Not you, my loves, not you,” she’d corrected as she caressed her sons’ faces. “If we see this man again, he will be out on the street before he can see your face!” She vowed.
I could have kissed her. Actually, we did hug, which was really sort of sweet. She’s about two feet shorter than me, but somehow enveloped me in her arms like she was a bodybuilder. The line guys got super protective of me, too, always looking out for trouble.
I told them I didn’t imagine him coming in anytime soon, but I think they like the ‘danger’. On top of that, Papa (that’s the only name I’ve ever heard him called, I swear to God) felt so bad, he offered me a 3% raise on the spot.
It’s not much, but it means the world. These people had my back after only working for them for a few days. I built Chic from the ground up, and they turned on me like I was dirt.
Life is feeling a little brighter today as I bustle about the restaurant, keeping everyone’s cups filled and enjoying the harmless flirting from the line cooks. I won something. Blake didn’t take this job away, and he couldn’t buy his way out of these people hating his guts.
I’m humming a little to myself as I head over to my table, but stop in my tracks. I smell him before I see him. That familiar cologne that’s haunted my sleep these past couple weeks. You’ve got to be kidding me. In the same damn booth?!
“What are you doing here?” I demand, crossing my arms. I don’t feel the need to play nice anymore, knowing the restaurant has my back.
“Natalie, hi,” Roger beams and I’m a little taken aback. He looks wonderful, as usual. Smartly dressed. His dazzling blue eyes are gazing up at me with such genuine happiness, I feel like I’m in a wedding dress and not an apron.
Jesus, pull it together, Natalie! Wedding dress, hah! Don’t forget this guy is also involved in ruining your life.
“Hi,” I say icily. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Hey, don’t be like that,” Roger frowns. “Look I came here to talk to you…”
“What could you possibly have to say to me? I’m just a fling, right? Just stop number one in a long line of girls for an evening —”
“That’s not true, Natalie, you know it’s not—”
“You can’t imagine what it’s been like, staring at those pictures over and over again, thinking about that night and what it meant to me, and—” I stop short, my eyes brimming with tears.
Roger’s face is in anguish as he looks up to me. His hand twitches like he’d like to reach out and hold me, but he resists and takes a deep breath.
“Natalie, it meant a lot to me, too. Look, I know this didn’t start out so great here, and I know we’ve got some real stuff to go over, but if you’ll just hear me out for a second…”
“This guy bothering you?” One of the line cooks stops by the booth and folds his arms, puffing out his chest and jutting his chin out. I bite my lip to keep from laughing at his bravado and the confused look on Roger’s face.
“No, Angelo, everything’s fine.” Angelo gives me a stern look.
“Cross my heart,” I promise, and he shoots me a smile. He narrows his eyes at Roger as he stalks past, letting him know he’s got eyes on him.
“Seems like you made friends here,” Roger smiles and I shrug. Angelo somehow broke the spell. I feel the air change between us, and I let my guard down a little. Roger does, too.
“Natalie, I know we’ve got a lot to work through. But I want to work through it. I want to put in the time and devote myself to whatever you need because…well, the truth is—
God, Natalie, I’ve missed you.”
I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear those words. They well up inside me and I gasp at how wonderful they feel in my chest. “What?” I ask, my voice small.
“Natalie, I’ve missed you so much. I fucked up. I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”
“Roger.” I bite my lip trying to find the words. Have I ever been apologized to? I mean, really? Has anyone genuinely apologized to me in my adult life, ever? “To be honest…I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I may have… overreacted. A little.”
Okay, it wasn’t the most generous confession, but letting my pride slip that much is a big deal for me! I have so much more to go, and so much more to say, but I really don’t feel like we should be discussing that here.
I’m about to make arrangements for when my shift ends when he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a photograph... of a bare, gutted room. He hands it to me, and I take it warily, wondering what the hell I’m
supposed to be looking at.
“What is it?” I ask dumbly, handing the photo back to him. He pushes it back in my hands, his face grim.
“It’s your old suite in my building. Look in the corners there.” I squint and try to see what he’s talking about. My heart drops. “There were cameras all over the place, Natalie. Blake turned your place into a fucking spy zone.”
I clasp my hand over my mouth, my knees feeling weak. He’s been spying on me. All this time, I thought it was my fault. That I was stupid or forgetful, not closing the blinds. Feeling guilty for what I did in the privacy of my home.
And he was watching. All this time! Fuck!
“Natalie, are you alright? Do you want to sit down?” I shake my head and calm my racing heart.
“So, what….” My throat feels dry and scratchy. Roger reaches out, and this time, I let him. His hand on mine feels so good. He squeezes it gently, and I suddenly feel a little stronger. “What’s going on then? What happens now?”
“Well,” Roger pulls his hand away and I get nervous. “Natalie, I know this is a lot for you and I understand if you don’t want to —”
“Oh, Jesus, Roger, just say it.” I’ve had about all I can take, and my anxiety is through the roof. If one more person approaches me with the ‘hey can we talk’ voice, I’ll tear my hair out.
“I want to sue the shit out of that son of a bitch.”
What? I look at him, flabbergasted.
“I’ve got a team of lawyers together, building an airtight case. I want that bastard to lose everything. I want him to pay for everything he did to you.”
Well, now, that suits me just fine. I take Roger’s face in my hands and kiss him deeply. Never in my life has someone presented me with such a precious gift. The chance to reclaim my life and take Blake down at the same time.
Suddenly, there’s a bout of cheering and I pull away from Roger, alarmed. He looks stunned, his mouth open as he continues to reach for me. Shit, I think, as I try to find the source of the cheers. Is it someone’s birthday?