by Mia Faye
“You can’t do that,” I said, but there was a note of desperation in my voice.
“I guess we’ll see,” Vicki said. I stared at her, looking for a trace of compassion in her eyes. There was only anger there. Deep-seated anger I doubted she would ever let go of. And it grew every time she looked at our daughter and saw my eyes.
“Please,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. Somehow, I didn’t think it would have made any difference. Vicki’s jaw was set, as was her mind. At that moment, I was well and truly powerless.
“I won’t let you,” I told her. “I won’t let you take her. She’s my daughter too.”
But my threats fell on deaf ears. Vicki threw me one last scathing look, then she turned and walked back into the house. She made sure to slam the door, too.
“Cam. Buddy. Please stop pacing.”
I looked up at Gabriel, then down at my feet. I hadn’t even noticed I was pacing. I nodded absently, then walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. Gabriel got up from his chair on the other side of the desk and came over to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“She can’t do it, can she?” I asked. “I mean, really. Can she?”
“Technically, she has the right to file for termination of your parental rights and to sue for full custody. But she would need to have very compelling arguments to make her case. Especially with parental rights. She would have to show that you have been negligent or abusive toward the child; otherwise, it’s pretty much a shot in the dark.”
“But she can do it?” I asked again.
“She can, yes.”
I shook my head.
“Surely she has no case?” Gabriel asked me. “I’ve known you a long time, Cam. I don’t think anyone can argue you’re capable of doing anything that would warrant the revocation of your parental rights.”
“You don’t get it, man. It’s true I haven’t done anything negligent or over the top. But some things have happened that could make me look bad. I know Vicki, and she would definitely spin them to help her cause.”
“What things?” Gabriel asked.
I sighed. “I forgot I was supposed to pick her up this morning. She was to spend the weekend with me.”
“That’s not bad!”
“Another time, I was supposed to pick her up from school, but I got the times mixed up, and she waited for me outside her school for like an hour.”
“Okay, that’s not great, but it’s still not nuclear.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to convince himself or me more. But I didn’t like that he had gone from easy confidence to “maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“So? I should be worried, right?” I asked him.
Gabriel thought about that for a long time. His eyes glazed over, and I knew he was mapping out the scenario in his head, figuring out the best and worst possible outcomes. It was what a good lawyer did he liked to say.“I think we should nip this in the bud,” he announced after some time. “I think the best course of action at this stage is prophylactic. You need to stop Vicki from going to court if she actually intends to go to court. She could be bluffing.”
“She isn’t bluffing,” I said right away.
“Well, then get back in her good graces. Beg, grovel, apologize. These things always come down to a conversation between the two parties. Even if you go to court, the two of you will eventually have to come together and agree to terms. Might as well do it now and save yourselves the legal fees.”
“What if I can’t?”
“I’m sure you can.”
“Okay. Positive thinking, I know. But lay it out for me. Worst case scenario. I try to talk her out of it, and she refuses to budge. What then?”
“Is she really that bad?”
“You have no idea, man.”
I knew exactly what he was alluding to, the question he was dancing around. Weren’t you two all over each other at some point? I didn’t know how to respond to that question. He wouldn’t be the first person to ask it either. Even I couldn’t believe just how toxic my relationship with Vicki had gotten, especially considering how inseparable we were back then.
Vicki and I met a few years back, at a launch her public relations firm was doing for one of our books. Our connection was instant, and the sparks flew freely. Our relationship burned very bright and very fast; it was hot and heavy the first few weeks, and then we slowly started to see each other, and everything just fell apart.
We both made efforts to make things work, to no avail. And then, after finally deciding to go our separate ways, Vicki found out she was pregnant. We had our biggest fight and the most revealing one. We both knew there was no future for us after that. But there was the small matter of the pregnancy. That news hit me harder than any of the rest of it. And the realization that we would essentially be tied together for life was more than I could bear.
As soon as Vicki realized I wasn’t on board with it, she changed completely. Her frustration and vitriol sharpened to a dangerous point, and she angrily declared she didn’t need me. Not in her life, and certainly not in her child’s.
“You don’t pay child support, right?” Gabriel asked, frowning.
“She wouldn’t let me. Made it a point to show me she didn’t need anything from me.”
“Okay,” Gabriel was saying. “If she were serious, then she would sue for custody. The two of you aren’t married, so that makes things a little easier for her. She will go out of her way to prove her stability as a parent and discredit yours. The fact that you aren’t paying child support works in her favor here, anything to show she doesn’t need you in the child’s life. The court will decide on what’s best for the child. You would probably get some form of visitation privilege, depending on how the case goes. Unless she denies you even that, but that’s the absolute worst scenario.”
“Right.” I tried to swallow a growing lump in my throat.
“But it won’t come to that, remember?” Gabriel said, putting on an encouraging smile. “You’re going to make peace with Vicki, and that will be that.”
He said it so matter-of-factly I was tempted to believe him. Maybe I could get her to back off. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to hang the future of my child on a maybe.
Chapter 9
Yvette
The first time I heard of the annual company retreat, I pictured a large hotel with tables and tables of delicacies lined up from wall to wall. And, just outside, a large sprawling space with brightly colored obstacle courses and beaming instructors. I imagined meeting some of the people I worked with in casual clothes, maybe sweatpants and khakis instead of slacks, and polo shirts in place of buttoned-up dress shirts. I pictured a large dinner with the bosses, and afterward, stiff speeches from the senior employees talking about upward mobility and the company vision.
I did not imagine the words ‘football’ and ‘competitive’ would feature. It’s why I was confused when, a few days after starting at Penguin, the talk around the office suddenly switched to the company retreat and a ‘flag football tournament.’
Naturally, I sought Cam out to get a proper explanation.
“Ah, yes,” He lifted his legs onto his desk, exposing bright pink socks, and his eyes got a certain look like he was reminiscing on very happy times.
“The flag football tournament is usually our opening ceremony for the company retreat. And, as you will learn if you work here long enough, the single most important event in the whole year. Bigger than our book fest. Bigger than a bonus day. The flag football game is our Superbowl, so to speak.”
“Okay… and what happens at this… Superbowl?”
“We fight,” he said, a tad too dramatically, slamming his fist on the desk for emphasis. “We fight to the death.”
And then, when I continued to stare blankly at him, he sighed and shook his head.
“Okay, so basically, it’s a competition between the various departments. All are free to enter, of course, but it’s really a
battle between Editorial and the jocks over in Sales and Marketing. And I mean a battle in every sense. Since the company started, there has always been this debate about which department is more valuable; mostly just water-cooler talk. But then we realized we could actually use the tournament to see who was, in fact, better, and it evolved into this annual thing of epic proportions.”
“Who usually wins?” I asked.
“I’ll give you two guesses.”
“Sales? I imagine they’re in better shape.”
Cam laughed. “That’s actually a fair assessment. Sales have been whooping our asses for three years in a row, and I simply won’t have it this time. This year, we exact our vengeance.”
I shook my head, convinced Cam was pulling my leg. Because no one could take a game that seriously, could they?“And what does the winner get?”
“Bragging rights, for one. Exclusive use of the rec room for the next month. And, most importantly, a dinner with some of the bigwigs at the very top of the company. But you know, the key thing here is bragging rights.”
“I don’t have to participate, do I?” I asked.
Cam turned to me with a frown.“You’re part of the editorial team, are you not?”
“I mean, sure, but I’m new. Don’t newbies get an exemption?”
“Absolutely not. I happen to be a team captain, and I need my best people there.” He paused, thinking. “You look athletic. Did you play any sports in college? High school?”
I shrugged. “They didn’t have flag football at my college.”
“Very funny, Matthews. Seriously, though. Did you?”
“I ran track in high school for a minute. But that was a long time ago.”
Cam’s eyes lit up, and he let his legs drop, got up, and walked over to me with excitement written all over his face.“Oh, that is excellent news. You might just be the secret weapon we need.”
“I don’t—”
Cam raised a finger to my lip to shut me up. The unexpected contact took me completely by surprise, and that more than anything else made me trail off.
“I suggest you start getting loose, Matthews. I’m picking you first come Wednesday.”
The office pretty much went into shutdown mode over the next few days. It was nearly impossible to work; anywhere I went, people were talking about the retreat, speculating on who would win the tournament, and generally not being productive. I tried to keep myself out of it, focusing on my work in the library. But it was futile. By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was just as excited as everyone else.
We were driven, by two company buses, into the heart of the city. I had heard, in passing, that the retreat was taking place at the home of one of the board members of the company. If that was true, then our host was extremely well-off. The buses pulled into a luxurious compound that had the largest house I had ever seen in real life. The compound alone was jaw-dropping; enormous swathes of green as far as the eye could see, a large pond right in the middle of it all, what looked to be a small forest at the very edge of the property, and the general aura of wealth and opulence. It was actually a perfect place to host a retreat; there was plenty of open space for physical activities of all sorts.
We drove for almost ten minutes after getting into the compound before we finally pulled up in front of the mansion. There, we were greeted by a small group of people, two elderly men, and two women.
I recognized Meredith right away. And, from the photos I had seen in her office, I figured the sickly-looking man beside her must be her husband and the company CEO, Wyatt Banks. Except he looked nothing like the man in the photos; this man was skinnier, his skin pale and ashen. I suddenly understood why I hadn’t seen him at the office.
The couple next to them was far more arresting. I guessed right away that these were our hosts. The man was tall and very sharply dressed in a three-piece suit. His hair was all grey, but he had the refined posture and easy confidence of someone who owned a little island in the middle of the city. The woman next to him was just as stunning, and a little more impressive. She was in a simple frock that shimmered and danced with the slightest breeze, the little gold patterns on it appearing to wink in the light.
“Hi, everyone,” the grey-haired man said, his voice booming out and silencing the chatter that had been going on since we stepped off the bus. “My name is Brian Flores. I’m one of the Board members for Penguin Publishers and a personal friend to Wyatt and Meredith here. Today, however, I also happen to be your host and a very proud one at that. This is my wife, Grace, and we would like to welcome you all to our humble abode.”
“Not very humble, is it?” a voice whispered in my ear, and I whipped around to find Cam standing next to me. I hadn’t heard him approach; he had this sneaky way of popping up right next to me that I was beginning to find unnerving.
“It’s okay, I guess,” I said, shrugging.
“Not very easy to impress, are you?”
“Oh, I am. You just have to know how to do it.”
Our host was rattling off a speech about the tradition behind the company retreat, but I was finding it hard to pay attention. I was standing right in the middle of the pack, and Cam was pushed up right behind me. He was so close I could smell his aftershave. And I could feel the heat pouring from his body. It was very distracting, particularly when someone pushed him even closer to me and I felt something hard prod me in my butt.
“Are you okay back there?” I asked, turning my head slightly to the side, a big smile on my face.
“Oh, yeah, that’s just my phone,” Cam mumbled, taking a small step away from me.
“Right,” I said, still smiling.
“You know…” Cam leaned in, so close his breath rustled my hair. “Technically, we’re not at work.”The way he said it, a little breathy and hushed, sent a shiver down the back of my neck.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I told him. But I was stalling. Just like that, Cam had sent me back to that night at his place. I realized then what had been missing in our banter; up until this point, Cam hadn’t been flirting with me as blatantly as he used to.
“Oh, I just mean that—” I felt his hand rest on my lower back, and I was sure he stepped back up to me because of the heat and pressure on my butt were suddenly back.
But then I noticed that some people had turned to look in our direction.
“Cam?” Brian Flores was calling out, scanning the heads in the group.
“To be continued,” Cam whispered to me, and then he stepped past me and walked over to where our hosts were standing. It was a promise, I knew. Almost a challenge. And it had me tingly all over.
What had I told him, exactly? In the office? For some reason, I couldn’t remember a single thing from that day. Except him. The way he looked at me, the urgency in his touch, the reckless abandon with which he picked me up and planted me on that desk. His lips, too. I remember those; rough and soft all at the same time, urgent and demanding and intoxicating.
I shook my head, willing myself to focus on what Cam was saying upfront. My cheeks felt hot, as did the rest of my body.
“…the rest of the day, okay? So, we’ll go in for a quick snack. It’s actually a great opportunity for us to get acquainted with each other, introduce ourselves. We do have some new faces around, as most of you will have noticed.”
A dozen pairs of eyes turned to me all at once. I smiled and gave a little wave. When Cam looked at me, he gave me a playful little wink.
“Okay. If you’ll all come with me…”
The mansion was exactly as splendid as I thought it would be. High arching ceilings, with glittering diamond chandeliers hanging in the foyer. Flawless marble floors. Vintage chests and furniture, and fine drapes hanging from large, Victorian-era windows. There was a collective gasp from the group as we walked in. Several oohs and aahs were met with appreciative chuckles from the hosts. Their foyer alone was larger than my whole apartment.
Brian asked if anyone wanted a quick tour before settling
down, and a loud clamor filled the room.
“Okay, then. Follow me.”
He nodded to his wife and the Banks, and they walked off, disappearing through a door on the right. The procession followed Brian out of the room, their shoes making squeaking sounds as they crossed the marble floor.
I hung back a bit and joined the back of the group, my eyes still traveling up and around, marveling at the spectacle of the mansion.
It happened so quickly. Strong fingers closed around my wrist, and I felt myself being tugged away to the left of the room. I let out a little scream, and then the room shifted around me, a burst of light hit me in the face, and I think I saw a door open and close.
It must have been a secret door, hidden right at the place where those large curtains were. Or maybe I was too distracted to notice it. Either way, I found myself in a small, airy room with large windows through which the sun was streaming. And, in which Cam stood, grinning.
“Where were we?” I asked.
Cam drew me to him with another tug of my wrist, and I was crushed against his torso. I looked up at him, too stunned to speak. He had been here before, I realized. He had to have known about this room and the side door, and he must have waited until I was right outside to intercept me and drag me in.
His fingers snuck into my hair, and then he traced a line down to my jaw and tipped it up a little more so that I was staring right into his eyes.
Cam leaned down, or I may have been the one who lifted myself up on my toes. Our lips met, soft and inquiring, and I felt his hands circle my waist and hold me fast.
I might have convinced myself that it wasn’t a good idea to do this, but my body seemed to have other ideas. It came alive at Cam’s touch; every nerve lit up, and shockwaves began shooting through my whole being. The kiss was a sharp reminder of just how easily Cam could turn me on; it was familiar, sweet, and passionate, but it was also different from every other kiss we’d had. He held me rather than grabbed me. His touch was impossibly soft, as was his kiss. His lips slid along with mine, slow and almost shy like he was deliberately holding back. It was infuriating.