Not Playing Fair (The NOT Series Book 2)

by Terri Osburn

  “What are you talking about? My report should have been what Jeffrey gave you.”

  “Megan, I’m telling you. That is not what I read.”

  He’d had my summary in plenty of time for the meeting. An entire two days before, in fact. Mind racing, I struggled to make sense of what Ryan was saying. Then the realization dawned. Two days was plenty of time for Jeffrey to edit the report to say whatever he wanted. There would be enough facts to sound accurate, but with enough lies to throw the programs he didn’t want under the proverbial consultant bus.

  “That son of a…” To Ryan, I said, “Can I get a copy of what you received?”

  “I’m not sure that’s—”

  “Ryan, it’s all lies. I can almost guarantee it. But the only way I can prove that is to get a copy of what you saw.” Hoping he wasn’t the heartless jerk I’d made him out to be, I said, “I have to fight for my kids. Please, help me do that.”

  After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Text me your email and I’ll send it.”

  Forming a plan in my mind, I said, “Thank you.”

  As I walked away, he said, “Megan. I’m sorry.”

  I turned back. “You didn’t know he was lying.”

  He shook his head. “Not just about that. About all of it.”

  The least I could do was offer the same. “Me, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest from the beginning.” Sensing a possibility for this to turn around, I remembered something he’d once said. “Would it be crazy to ask if we can start over?” Extending a hand, I said, “Hi, I’m Megan Knox and I’m a librarian.”

  Lips curving in that slow smile that made my heart stutter, he took my hand. “I’m Ryan Stallings. I’m a consultant and can be an idiot sometimes.”

  His warm hand enveloped mine as I offered another truth. “Then we have something in common.” Growing serious, I added, “I really like you, and I really am sorry that I didn’t have the confidence to be myself from the start. If you give me another shot, I promise to do better.”

  “Same here.” Looking down at his dirty uniform, he said, “If you don’t mind a little sweat, I know a good ice cream shop not far from here. What do you say?”

  I didn’t mind at all. “I’d love some ice cream.”

  “Then I’ll text you the name. Meet me there?”

  More optimistic than I’d felt in days, I nodded. “I can do that.”

  I backed away toward my car and as I spun with a smile on my face, the girls broke out in applause. I’d totally forgotten they were there. Embarrassed but too happy to be mad at them, I brought them quickly up to date, and then raced off with a small part of my brain still on the Jeffrey issue. Once I had the evidence in hand, I knew exactly what I would do with it. With any luck, Mr. Chamberlain would not be my problem for much longer.

  When I’d followed Ryan to the parking lot, I hadn’t expected to fix anything between us. I hadn’t even been sure that was possible. Finding out he wasn’t a heartless schmuck who would take books away from children did help. We’d both been idiots so it wasn’t as if I could hold a grudge. Especially not after his apology.

  But that didn’t mean we had nothing else to work out. So far, our brief relationship had been anything but smooth, and since two restarts were more than enough, it was time to get everything out in the open.

  “I’ll be thirty in a few weeks, I’m a Libra, and I dislike both cilantro and mint chocolate anything,” I said, wrapping up my speech, which might have included a few too many details. “Oh, and I hate pickles. Can’t even stand the smell of them.”

  Ryan’s rich laughter matched the ice cream in his cup—a chocolate concoction called Pittsburgh Pot Holes. “I’m a Taurus, I’ll be thirty-three next April, and I forgive you for not liking pickles. I could eat them every day.”

  I knew he was too good to be true.

  “That’s it. This will never work out.”

  He sat up straighter. “I don’t have to eat them every day. How about if I only have them when you aren’t around or at least keep them away from your nose?”

  His willingness to sacrifice won me over. “I accept that compromise.” We were dancing around the real topic. “Not that I have any excuse for lying about the librarian thing, but I would like to explain.”

  “Rachel told me some of it. Do people really make those kinds of assumptions?”

  “They do, but I’m sure there are assumptions made about all sorts of jobs. My problem was that I liked you, and I wanted to keep you interested long enough to get to know me before learning what I do.”

  Setting his cup on the metal table between us, Ryan stabbed the pink plastic spoon into his ice cream. “I liked you, too. From the minute you slammed that bat into my chest, I thought this is a girl I’d like to know.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. The minute you turned around, all big brown eyes and that cute little nose, I was a goner.”

  For once, I didn’t mind the word cute.

  “Now that I’m blushing, it’s your turn. Rachel told me a bit about why you don’t use the consultant title right away either. I admit, I might have been a little less interested, but only because that was the same day I found out the library system had hired a consultant to review the programs.” Quite the coincidence looking back now. “I had no idea it was you, of course.”

  “Knowing what we know now, that part was for the best. We couldn’t have gone out while the review was going on.” He lifted his ice cream once more. “I’m still not proud of misleading you.”

  Digging a chunk of pound cake out of my dessert, I said, “From now on then, total honesty. Which means I need to tell you one more thing.”

  He gave me his full attention. “What is it?”

  “Fletcher told me he wants me back.”

  His deep-brown eyes held mine. “What did you say?”

  “I told him he needed to spend some time on himself and that we were never right for each other.”

  Ryan visibly relaxed, which gave my ego a much-needed boost. “That’s good to know.” After a brief silence, he asked, “Why did you stay with him for so long?”

  Oddly enough, I had an answer for this. “I know it sounds strange, but I think it goes back to my mother. She was a huge personality. Maybe not as big as in my memories, since to a child everything is exaggerated, but Geraldine was bubbly and bold and loved attention. I’m pretty sure that I thought that being with Fletcher would make me more like her. Like, his personality would rub off on me or something.”

  Appearing to absorb my answer, Ryan nodded. “I can see that. But I like you just the way you are. Smart, fierce, kind. Those are much better qualities to have.”

  If he was trying to make me cry in my ice cream, he was doing a bang-up job. “I’m really glad you moved here.”

  Sexy grin firmly in place, he leaned forward on the table. “Me, too.”

  Not long after I got home the night before, still floating from the ice cream excursion, Jeffrey’s version of the programming report landed in my inbox. Just as I’d suspected, he’d kept enough details for the information to appear legit, while changing or deleting crucial data on three different programs. All ones that used the meeting room across from his office.

  Was the man seriously sabotaging much-needed programming because of proximity to his office? Really?

  I spent Saturday morning comparing the two reports—mine and his edited version—to note every discrepancy and omission. I’d also made sure to highlight all of the direct falsehoods he’d included. Whatever his motives, this wasn’t only unfair to our patrons, but unethical, and I was sure a breach with the consulting firm to supply accurate and truthful documentation.

  Once my findings were emailed to both the library system director and the head of Human Resources, I started my laundry and settled in with a book to kill the hours before Ryan would pick me up. We were doing dinner and a movie, and it felt good to know there were no more secrets between us.

  When
my doorbell rang unexpectedly, I checked the clock, fearful that I’d lost track of time. I hadn’t. There was more than an hour to go before he would pick me up. Hurrying down the stairs, I looked through the peephole to see the back of a woman’s head. Probably someone taking a survey or wanting to tell me about their candidate. I headed back upstairs, but the bell rang again, and something told me I needed to answer it or they would keep pushing that dang button.

  Caving, I dragged the door open, but I could not have been remotely prepared for the person I found on the other side. Though I hadn’t even looked at a picture of her in years, I recognized the eyes, the nose, the haughty way she held her head.

  This was my mother.

  Stunned into silence, I stared, unable to believe my eyes. Was she a figment of my imagination? If I closed the door and opened it again, would she be gone?

  “Are you going to invite me in?” she said in greeting. The edge in her voice made the hair on my arms stand up. She was definitely real.

  Her silver-tinged dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, accentuating her blue eyes, which I realized matched Cassie’s exactly. The tapered jeans were a dark denim, and the plum jacket tossed over a simple peach top created a business casual look.

  The glare, however, was anything but casual.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m not discussing this through a doorway.”

  Part of my brain reverted to seven-year-old me, intimidated and anxious to please her. The other part said hell no did she get to show up at my door and make demands now.

  “What exactly are we discussing?” I asked, standing my ground.

  Clearly annoyed, she attempted to stare through me. I stared back. Caving first, she said, “I’m here to discuss what you told Cassie.”

  “I told Cassie the truth.”

  “Did you consider what hearing that would do to her?”

  “Did you consider what leaving would do to me?”

  Jaw tight, she flinched but ignored my question. “I have a flight out in two hours. Are you going to let me in or not?”

  The temptation to slam the door was overwhelming. At the same time, this would likely be my only chance to have this conversation, and though she might not answer my questions, I still deserved the opportunity to ask them.

  Stepping back, I said, “Follow me.”

  Halfway up the stairs, I heard the door click shut, followed by the beat of her footsteps behind me. Memories flashed through my mind. Of sundresses and pantyhose. Heady perfume and fancy heels lined up along the back wall of a tiny closet. Hats and scarves and big round sunglasses that had made me feel like I was riding around with a movie star.

  She’d been everything I wanted to be back then. Today, I wanted to be nothing like her.

  I’d straightened the house in anticipation of Ryan’s arrival, though I didn’t care in that moment what she thought of my home. She hadn’t been very domestic in those early years, nor had she stuck around to teach me the finer elements of interior design.

  “You’re in,” I said, not bothering to offer her a drink or to invite her to sit down. “What did you want to say?”

  “You had no business talking to Cassie like that.”

  “She’s my sister,” I reminded her. “She deserved to know that.”

  Lips tight, the white-knuckle grip on her purse strap revealed how tightly she was gripping her temper. A memory flashed again. Like a scene from a movie, I saw her screaming like a madwoman and throwing all the pretty shoes from the closet over my head. Eyes dropping to the floor, I shook the visions away.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” Geraldine said, drawing closer like a cat approaching its prey. “That she would believe you over me? She doesn’t know you, Megan. You’re a stranger to her.”

  “Thanks to you.” She’d robbed us all of so much. “What I told her was the truth. Your leaving didn’t change who I am.”

  “Oh, please. You were the result of a mindless decision driven by teenage lust and too much alcohol. I never even liked James. My parents forced me to marry him because of you. And then you turned out to be just like him. Dull. Meek. Ordinary. Always with your nose in a book or your head in the clouds. You never felt like my daughter. You felt like what you were. A mistake.”

  Every word cut like a razor blade across my skin. If she hated me that much, I couldn’t help but wonder why she’d stayed as long as she had.

  “You never loved me at all.” This wasn’t a revelation, but the first time I’d said the words aloud. “I was an innocent child. You chose to crawl into the back seat of that car. What happened after was the result of your decision. You can’t blame me for any of it.”

  She shook her head, not hearing me at all. “Everything changed because of you. I had dreams. Ambitions. Do you think I wanted to stay in that dinky little town?”

  Pointing out the obvious, I said, “We could have all moved together.”

  “That never would have worked. I’d still have been trapped in that marriage. And I couldn’t have done any of the things I wanted to do with you along. I had to get out.”

  So much became clear in my mind. She’d spun a narrative that worked for her. One that was only true in the world she’d created in her mind. A world where I didn’t fit, so she’d written me out as if I never existed. Seeing who she was now, I was almost grateful. Geraldine had done me a favor by walking away.

  “I don’t know what you told Cassie,” I said, “but someday she’ll figure it out and she’ll realize who you really are. As for me, I might be a regret to you, but I was never a mistake.” Walking past her to reach the door, I held it open. “This conversation is over. You need to leave.”

  “Not until you promise never to contact Cassie ever again.”

  As if she had any power to force that promise. “I said you need to leave. Now.”

  “I said—”

  “Now!” I snapped. “Get out of my house.”

  Blue eyes went wide before she stormed past me. “Contact her and you’ll be dealing with me,” she warned on her way down the stairs.

  Instead of responding with a phrase I never used, I slammed the door loud enough to earn a pounding on the ceiling downstairs. Augie would have to get over it. Seconds passed as I stared at my floor while adrenaline ebbed from my bloodstream.

  Geraldine’s brutal words had numbed me. Maybe it was the shock of hearing how she really felt. The contempt in her voice, as if I was a curse that had tried to ruin her life. But as the numbness wore off, pain flowed in to take its place. Years of believing that I was the reason she left only to learn that I was. Just not in any rational, sane way.

  Before I realized what was happening, I was on the floor with tears running off my chin. All of the questions. All of the years spent yearning for a mother who loved me. Who wanted me. They all crashed around me until I curled into a ball, my forehead pressed against my knees as I wailed like a wounded, helpless creature. My breath hitched and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop the hurt consuming me.

  Sobs turned to whimpers, whimpers turned to hiccups, and I was finally able to sit back up. Crawling to the coffee table, I grabbed the box of tissues to wipe my face and blow my nose. Lashes still wet, I leaned back against the couch and dropped my head onto the cushion. My sinuses weren’t happy, but as I took several deep breaths, I felt lighter.

  Still hurt, but not the crushing pain of before, I couldn’t believe she was really here. That she’d been standing right in front of me after twenty-three years. I pinched myself to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming. Or rather, in the middle of a nightmare. Playing the whole thing back, I had an odd feeling. I was proud of myself. There had been a time when I’d have handled that encounter very differently. I couldn’t control what Geraldine would tell Cassie, or if Cassie would ever contact me again, but I didn’t regret telling her.

  Even after that horrible experience. I did the right thing. That’s all that mattered.

  Chapte
r Twenty

  My eyes were still red and swollen when Ryan rang my doorbell. I repaired the damage with makeup as best I could, but he knew the moment I opened the door that I’d been crying. I relayed the scene with Geraldine, leaving out the harshest parts, and by the time I wrapped up with me kicking my prodigal mother out of my house, I’d decided to change the plan for the night ahead.

  “Do you mind if we skip the movie and do something else before dinner?”

  “We can skip the whole thing if you don’t want to go,” Ryan replied. We were sitting on my couch as we had the night of our first date. “I wouldn’t blame you after all that.”

  I was not calling off this date. “No, I’m not letting Geraldine take another minute from my life, but there is something I need to do to close that chapter for good.”

  Holding my hand, he said, “Tell me what it is, and we’ll do it.”

  “We’ll have to go downtown.”

  Ryan rolled to his feet and then pulled me up with him. “I’m game. Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were strolling across the damp green grass of Point State Park, known as The Point to locals. This was a beautiful stretch of greenery situated at the very point where the Monongahela, Allegheny, and Ohio rivers met. Hence the name. To the east was the looming skyscrapers of downtown. To the west was the sunset over the Ohio River.

  At the apex of the triangular park sat a large fountain that shot water one hundred and fifty feet into the air. This was my destination. As we stepped from grass to concrete, I stopped.

  “I haven’t been here since a few months before my seventh birthday,” I said, my eyes locked on the soaring waterspout. “Geraldine brought me here that summer. She called it a girls’ trip.”

  Ryan squeezed my hand. “That was right before she left, wasn’t it?”

  He’d been paying attention. “Yes. We walked all over downtown and ended up here. My feet were aching, but she kept going. I was happy when we got here that I could sit down on these stairs.”