Breaking the Rules

by Cat Lavoie

  Tali rushes to my side as soon as I step out of the elevator. “I’ve been calling you since yesterday. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about...”

  “Lucas Williams was here last night,” she interrupts. “They had the meeting. Without you.”

  “What?” My head is spinning. “Well, maybe they just didn’t need me. You know as well as I do that I didn’t do much...”

  She paces back and forth, her hands twisting together. “No, Rox. Something’s going on. When you left early yesterday, Greta asked me to stall you at reception if you came back before the end of the day. She didn’t want you anywhere near the conference room.”

  “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. Maybe she tried to call me to tell me the meeting was rescheduled.” I take out my phone and check the call history. There’s a long list of “missed” calls from Steffi, Izzie and Tali. Nothing from Greta or Melody. That’s strange.

  I see Greta coming towards me from the corner of my eye and, a few seconds later, she’s standing right beside us.

  “I need to see you in my office right away, Roxy,” Greta says, while Tali looks her up and down as if she might literally have something up her sleeve. “Get back to work, Natalia.”

  I catch Tali’s gaze and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile and follow Greta into her office.

  “What’s going on? Tali tells me you had the meeting yesterday? I would have come in if you’d called me.” I try to keep my voice calm and nonchalant, but I can sense the tension in the air. I might be imagining things, but I think I saw people staring at me as I was walking into Greta’s office. Am I getting fired? I fall down in one of Greta’s chairs and prepare for the worst.

  “I’m just going to come out and say it.” Greta clears her throat and looks me in the eye, something she hasn’t done all morning. “You took one for the team last night.”

  I stare back, confused. “What?”

  Greta fumbles with some papers on her desk. “The meeting with Lucas Williams was yesterday afternoon. It was always scheduled for yesterday afternoon.”

  “Why didn’t you want me there?” I ask. But I think I already know. “It’s because Melody doesn’t like me, right?”

  Greta clears her throat. “No. I needed to get you out of the office so I could access your computer and find some recipes to give to Lucas.”

  It takes a few moments before I fully understand what she’s just told me.

  “You hacked into my computer, found some recipes and gave them to Lucas?” I repeat. The words sound as ridiculous coming out of my mouth as they did coming out of Greta’s. I feel like I’m trapped in a bad movie and I’m going to wake up in a few minutes and be back in my apartment.

  “Well, I didn’t really hack into anything,” Greta says. “You gave me the password.”

  I nod. That’s true. But I guess it’s not really the how that concerns me right now. “Why?” I ask. I almost feel like laughing at the absurdness of it all. “Why would Lucas Williams want or need my recipes? He’s the famous chef. I’m just, just...” I try to find a word to express how ridiculous this whole thing sounds. “I’m just nobody.”

  Greta throws her arms up in the air and walks over to the other side of the room before turning around and looking at me. “Lucas thinks he’s losing it. I know he seems very cocky, but he’s really insecure. A lot of people have money at stake with this restaurant and if it fails he’ll never be able to work in this city again. He needed a boost of inspiration, a breath of fresh air, and I thought you might be it.”

  I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. I want to understand. I want to wrap my mind around this but I can’t. I look up at Greta and, seeing that I’m not going to say anything, she continues.

  “I had to convince him that people at Kilborn know food. I told Lucas about you and your fancy lunches that everyone craves and the snacks you bring in that make us gain five pounds just by looking at them and that picture of your cookbook collection that you keep pinned on your desk and the cooking school brochures that you carry around everywhere. He wanted to meet you. And you know as well as I do that what Lucas Williams wants, Lucas Williams gets.”

  The look she gives me sends shivers down my spine. She knows. She’s known all along. Greta pimped me out to Lucas Williams.

  “Like I said—you took one for the team. We’ve all done it at some point. It was the price to pay, Roxy. If I didn’t give it to him, he was going to go to another firm and we need him. Now it’s a done deal. You should be proud.”

  She smiles at me as though I should be happy that my involvement in this project consisted of photocopying some papers and getting out of the way long enough for Greta to go through my personal documents. I try to think of what was in that recipe file. Years and years of notes I’ve been taking on recipes that worked and others that didn’t. Recipes my mother passed on to me. Recipes I’ve made up after tasting something good in a restaurant and trying to make my own version of it back home. Recipes I’ve created from scratch in a moment of inspiration. My heart sinks. Steffi’s California Chicken. I don’t really care about anything else, but I created that recipe for her. It might not be the most original thing in the world and it might not be the most delicious, but it’s mine and Steffi’s. One of the steps in the recipe is asking Steffi to taste it and tell me if it’s spicy enough or if it needs more heat. Lucas Williams can’t do that. He doesn’t have a Steffi.

  Greta looks at me, waiting for my reaction. I know I should be angry. I am. I should be throwing stuff and screaming at Greta for using me like that. I should tell her that I’ve worked hard to gain her trust and she’s just thrown mine away in the blink of an eye. For what? A new account? I am fuming inside but it doesn’t reach the outside. I am resigned. Resigned that this is the way it’s always been with Greta and that’s how it will always be.

  “Anything else?” I ask, getting up and brushing a piece of lint off my pants. I suddenly feel like the dumbest person in a smart suit.

  “I’ve sent you an email with the things I need done today,” Greta says, picking up the phone and dialing.

  I wait for a few more seconds to see if she’s going to say anything else. Thank you, maybe? But Greta swivels her chair to look out the window and starts talking to the person at the other end of line. I nod to nobody and leave the office.

  Tali grabs my arm as soon as I close Greta’s door and drags me to the bathroom. “Tell me what happened,” she says, checking under each stall to make sure we’re alone.

  Even though I don’t feel like repeating the story, I give her a recap of my meeting.

  I see Tali’s cheeks grow redder by the second. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m going to kill her,” she says when I’m done. “I’m going in there right now to snap her tiny little neck.”

  “I appreciate it, but I don’t want you to do anything that’s going to jeopardize your job or mine. It’s not worth it.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tali asks.

  “Nothing. I’m going to go back to my desk and do my job.”

  Tali nods and leans back against the sink. “What a crazy morning.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I say before I can stop myself.

  Tali raises an eyebrow and I start telling her the story of Ollie and Steffi. It feels good to get it out in the open. As I fill in all the details, I can almost see Tali’s jaw fall to the floor.

  “Wow,” she says when I’m done. “I can’t believe it. So you’re not going to tell Ollie how you feel?”

  “What’s the point? It’s only going to complicate things. And things are complicated enough as it is. He’s having a kid with my sister. Besides, I love Ethan. It’s not like he’s the consolation prize or anything. I’m happy to be marrying him.”

  Tali nods and leans against the counter. “If you don’t let me tell Emma and Adam, you know I am going to explode, right?”

  I shake my hea
d. “Yeah, sure. You can tell them.” I can just imagine the shock on Emma and Adam’s faces when Tali gives them the news. They’ll probably say that they knew all along about my feelings for Ollie. But Steffi and the baby? That’s a soap opera plot twist nobody could have predicted.

  “You okay?” Tali asks.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “Yes.”

  I walk back to my desk and open my emails to find Greta’s lists of tasks for the day. Looks like I have to find a book on Yorkshire Terrier puppies for one of her niece’s school projects.

  I’m about to take down the name of the book when Greta comes out of her office. I try to smile and act as though this is just any other day.

  “This is for you,” she says, handing me an envelope.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.” She’s smiling. Could it be some sort of bonus?

  I open the envelope and take out what looks like a gift certificate.

  “It’s a voucher from Lucas’ future restaurant. It’s for a meal. Completely on the house,” she declares. “For a job well done.”

  I stare at the paper and feel something that might be rage boiling inside me. Why now? Why is this the thing that makes me angry? Is it because I can just imagine the smug look on Lucas’ face when he was thinking that I could be bought with a free meal? Or is it because, even after all these years of being devoted to her, Greta thinks that’s all I’m worth? I’ll never get ahead. I can work my ass off every day and stand aside as things are stolen from me but it doesn’t mean anything. I flash back to the answer I gave Tali when she asked me what I was going to do. I said nothing. I always do nothing. I’m tired of nothing. Nothing has done nothing for me so far.

  Greta walks away and before I can stop myself, I say it. “I quit.”

  She turns around so fast I think she might have burned a hole in the carpet. “What did you say?”

  “I quit.” This time, my voice doesn’t quiver as much.

  I stand up and look around. A few people have heard the commotion and are staring at me. What do I do now? I think back to the movies I’ve seen with famous exits. I grab my bag and walk out from behind my desk, holding Greta’s gaze.

  My heart is beating out of my chest and my palms are sweaty. She thinks I’m bluffing. She thinks I’m going to sit back down and, for a minute, the thought crosses my mind. What the hell am I doing? Sit back down. But I don’t. I can’t.

  “Roxy Rule. Come back this instant. You can’t quit.” This time, the whole office hears and stops in its tracks. I ignore her and sling my bag over my shoulder, looking straight ahead.

  Greta’s eyes are glued to me as I walk towards the elevator. Tali comes out from behind her desk and waits for me next to the exit.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers in my ear while hugging me.

  “I should go back to my desk,” I whisper, my knees buckling.

  “If you go back I will break your legs. I’m serious. Now get the hell out of here,” she says, almost pushing me into the waiting elevator.

  Her grinning face is the last thing I see before the doors close in on me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  What am I doing?

  I keep asking myself that question as the elevator makes its slow descent to the lobby. Obviously, it can’t go straight down and has to stop on almost every floor. Whenever the doors open, I get the urge to run out and climb the stairs back to the Kilborn office. I’m sure Tali was only kidding about breaking my legs but, then again, a small part of me knows that she wasn’t.

  Finally, after what seems like hours, the doors open on the lobby but my feet stay glued to the floor. Once I take a step out there, it’s over. It’s only when the doors are about to close in on me again that I step out, almost getting knocked over by a woman rushing to get into the closing elevator. I used to be that woman.

  The security guard nods at me, but I just keep my head down and push my way through the heavy doors. A wave of nausea hits me when I set foot on the sidewalk and it has nothing to do with the horrible smell in the air. What have I done? I look up at the building, trying to find the Kilborn windows. I don’t want to go back but I don’t know where else to go.

  I can feel tears starting to sting my eyes when my phone rings. Adam.

  “Get yourself over here right now,” he says, not letting me get a word in. “Tali told me everything.”

  The Quid. That’s where I need to be. I might not know how I’m going to pay the bills, but at least I can drown my sorrows in nachos and Diet Coke. Preferably free.

  I hail a cab and while it dips in and out of traffic towards the Quid, I try to make sense of everything that just happened. I’ll be fine. I’ll start looking for a new job right away. In the meantime, I can ask Ethan for help. Ethan. I fish my phone out of my pocket and sigh when his voicemail kicks in.

  “Ethan, it’s me. I really need you to meet me at the Quid. It’s an emergency. Please come as soon as possible.”

  I feel bad about leaving such a frantic message on his voicemail, but I don’t have much time to think about it because the cab stops in front of the Quid. Adam opens the door and hugs me. He’s smiling. I think there might have been a misunderstanding. What exactly did Tali tell him?

  “I’m so happy for you,” he says, locking his arm in mine and escorting me inside.

  I unlock my arm and scan his face for any sign of a prank. “I quit my job,” I say, sitting down in a booth. Adam sits down in front of me. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you mean? You’re going to culinary school. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? You’re free.”

  I shake my head. “It’s too much money.”

  “It’s always going to be too much money, Rox. You’ve got to get over this fear of failure...”

  I stop listening and look over Adam’s shoulder. I know everyone thinks I chickened out of cooking school and that I’m just afraid that I’ll fall flat on my face. But it’s a little more complicated than that. As much as I love cooking, I don’t think I’d be able to make it in Lucas Williams’ world.

  “Fine, I’ll drop it,” Adam says, clearly noticing that I’d stopped listening to him. “So if you’re not going to go to cooking school, what are you going to do?”

  Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a new text message and Adam gets called into the kitchen.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” he says before leaving the table. “We haven’t even talked about Oliver yet.” He winks at me and I’m surprised by how fast I was able to forget about Ollie and how quickly Tali was able to relay information to Adam. I wonder if Emma knows too.

  I feel a little relieved when I see that the message is from Ethan: I’m on my way. I just need him to tell me that everything is going to be okay. If it comes from him, I might believe it.

  Fifteen minutes later, I have the remains of about twenty shredded paper napkins in front of me and the food that Adam brought me has been set aside, untouched.

  I wave to Ethan when I see him walk into the Quid and scan the room with panicked eyes. He runs up to me and, seeing the pile of shredded napkins and the plate of food, raises an eyebrow. Obviously, I am not on the brink of death.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, sitting down in front of me. “You said there was an emergency.”

  “I quit my job,” I say, unable to look him in the eye.

  “What? Why?”

  I take a deep breath and tell him about everything that happened yesterday and this morning. The whole story. Well, the whole story except for anything Ollie-related. And making out with Lucas Williams. But everything else.

  When I’m done, I lean back against the seat and wait for Ethan to react.

  It never occurred to me that Ethan might not take my side until this very moment. He’s not looking at me. Watching him rub his forehead with the palm of his hand makes me nervous.

  “Ethan?” I ask, reaching out to touch his hand.

  “You nee
d to go back,” he says, yanking his hand away. “You need to go back and do whatever it takes to get your job back. Beg if you have to.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to start doing cartwheels in the middle of the Quid after finding out that I quit my job, but I never thought he’d ask me to go back.

  I stare at him, unable to speak. The tiny bit of comfort I’d started to feel since leaving Greta melts away and the panic comes rushing back. It’s like I’m standing in front of the elevator again, only this time the doors open and I fall down the shaft.

  “So what are you going to do now?” he asks, barely able to look at me.

  I shake my head and stare at my hands. I’d started shredding paper napkins again without knowing it. This time, the shreds fall on my lap and I swat at them angrily.

  “I don’t know. I might try cooking school.”

  I say it so softly that I doubt he can hear me, but Ethan seems to have developed superhuman hearing overnight because he rolls his eyes as soon as the first syllable leaves my lips.

  “Not this again,” he says, drumming his fingers on the table. “Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away? Your health benefits, your pension plan...”

  “But I’m not happy at Kilborn,” I say, trying to catch his gaze.

  “Happy? Work is work, Roxy. It’s not there to put joy in your heart. It’s there to pay your bills. Do you think I’m happy...” His voice trails off and he looks off into the distance. “You can’t afford it. That’s the bottom line.”

  I know he’s right. I can crunch the numbers all I want; they’ll never tell me what I want to hear. “I can start a catering business,” I say, breaking the silence.

  I hadn’t really thought about it before, but now it seems like a good idea. I could cater birthday parties and office parties. I could make flyers and send out mass emails and...

  Ethan shakes his head. “Roxy, don’t be ridiculous. You’re grasping at straws here. We both know you need to go get your job back.”

  “No.” He might be right, but I don’t feel like backing down. “No,” I repeat. “I’ll figure something out but I’m not going back.”