Her Good Name

by Josi S. Kilpack

  A book? That was his offering to make this not sting so badly? It was also a not-so-subtle way for him to step out of her life completely. After all, his stuff was resolved. He’d seemed to emphasize that word. He wasn’t pursuing things with her anymore. Their connections didn’t matter. His life was too complicated.

  “Thanks.” She went back to organizing the bills, stacking them perfectly as if it made any difference at all. “I gotta get ready for work,” she continued, moving a few steps further into the kitchen so she could organize the magnets on the fridge, anything to avoid his eyes.

  “Right,” he said, nodding.

  “Yeah,” she said, turning to face him, trying to look casual while holding tight to her feelings. “So. You’d better go.”

  He held her eyes again. She looked away first. He didn’t say another word, and she waited to look back until he pulled the door shut behind him. What just happened? Things had been going so well. Was she that stupid, to see things that weren’t there? To feel things so completely one-sided? And now what? They’d just discovered a connection with their ID theft problems. Was she supposed to keep following it up by herself? Did she even know how?

  Oh, yeah, he’d given her the freaking book!

  Tears rose up. One more dream out the door, moving down the sidewalk, getting into his truck. She tried to tell herself they hadn’t started anything, that having hurt feelings now was ridiculous. But she couldn’t quite convince herself of it. He was leaving.

  In the next instant, she darted for the door, pulled it open, and ran down the steps. “Micah!”

  He was just stepping into his truck, but turned toward her. The crumbling sidewalk cut into her feet, but she didn’t stop, she didn’t think. She just had to test a theory, and besides, what did she have to lose? What was the worst that could happen? He was already leaving.

  She stopped a few inches away from him and tilted her head back so she could look in his eyes, really look. All that potential she’d felt between them screamed at her, and before she could talk herself out of it, she reached around his neck and stood on her tiptoes—since the lack of her usual heels made him seem even taller—pulling his mouth toward her until their lips met. She fully expected him to push her away, but once she realized he wasn’t going to, she extended her fingers on the back of his head, dislodging his hat, and turned her face to deepen the kiss.

  He hadn’t pushed her away, but he didn’t respond—at least not at first. But then, she felt his arms come around her back, pulling her closer. Her whole body ignited and relaxed at the same time, her heart racing as the strength of those arms held the two of them together, lifting her feet off the ground. The thrill of being touched at all was amazing. The thrill of being touched like this, kissed like this, responded to like this, was beyond what even she had imagined. This was what she’d wondered—whether she’d only imagined their chemistry would mix this way. And now she knew—too late.

  A car honked as it passed and she pulled her mouth away from his, but she didn’t ease out of the embrace, and he didn’t put her down. She could hear his shallow breathing as he tried to reel himself in. She looked at his lips and tried to get herself under control as well.

  “I just had to know,” she said breathlessly, her hand still at the back of his neck. She could feel the heat of his skin, smell that cologne she loved, feel his body pressed against hers.

  The first kiss.

  The last kiss.

  The only kiss.

  He finally released her enough so their eyes could meet. “Chrissy,” he said in a breathy voice. It was still laced with regret, and she realized that he had his reasons for stopping what they hadn’t started yet, and one stupid kiss wouldn’t change it. But she hadn’t expected it would. Not really.

  She pushed against his shoulders, tight from holding her up, and he lowered her to the ground where she turned away, heading into the house without looking back. What was the point? Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes and letting the tears truly fall. She listened to his engine start, and then fade away as he left. She dropped her head and gave in to the regret that was slowly taking her over.

  One more failure. One more loss to add to the others. Why had she even allowed herself to expect anything different?

  Trust me.

  She snorted, swallowed the lump attempting to form in her throat, and headed for the bathroom. She had to get to work.

  Chapter 55

  Vamos a almorzar,” Brandon said, startling her—We’re going to lunch. She turned and faced him where he was standing in the doorway. “¿Cómo va?” he asked—How is it going?

  “Fine,” Chrissy said. Her back ached, and she had a couple killer paper cuts. But she’d only been here for—she had to look at the clock hanging above the door—four and a half hours. Once Micah left this morning she’d gotten ready in a hurry, eager to take her mind off the morning—well, most of the morning. She continued to play the kiss over and over in her head. It might be the last one she’d ever have. She wanted to remember it.

  “¿Quieres acompañarnos?”—Want to come with us? Brandon asked.

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I’m not very hungry.”

  “You know, we’ve missed you around here,” Brandon said. “It’s nice having you again.”

  Chrissy picked up another stack of files she’d already sorted. “I really appreciate you having me back.”

  “I’ve been wondering if you’d be interested in getting your old job back, taking over the office management again. As you can see, Carla hasn’t done a great job.”

  Chrissy’s eyebrows went up and she met his eyes. “Really?” she asked, visions of her old paychecks dancing in her head. No background check, full-time employment, a job she knew and was good at. “What about Carla?”

  Brandon nodded. “I’d offer Carla the option of staying on as your assistant, of course. But the office hasn’t been the same without you.” As he spoke, his tone dipped down to a level that hinted at intimacy and secrets.

  Chrissy took a mental step back. There seemed to be more than a reference to her job performance. But a full-time job again? She needed it so badly. “I’ll need to think it over,” she said. “Can I tell you on Monday?”

  “Of course,” he said, grinning, watching her too closely. “You sure you don’t want to join us for lunch?”

  “No, thanks,” she said again, smiling politely. “But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Anytime,” he said. As he turned for the door, he winked. Her stomach tightened but she immediately raised argument with the part of herself determined to see the worst in him. I need this job, she told herself, wanting to talk herself out of having seen the wink at all.

  Chapter 56

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  Friday, May 30

  Chrissy thumbed through one file at a time, making sure they were in alphabetical order. Tiek, Tielmann, Tilly, Timmons, Timmonson, Timothy, Tepori . . . aha! She pulled the offending file from the rack and moved it back about six inches, again thumbing through the files until she found its home between Tenbrook and Terry. The filing had gone much faster than she’d expected it to today—possibly fueled by her disappointment and frustration with every part of her life right now. It was after seven and everyone else had cleared out an hour earlier, ready for the weekend. Chrissy had chosen to stay and finish up a project so she’d be ready to start new tasks on Monday.

  Monday—the day she needed to give Brandon an answer to his job offer. It’s obvious, she told herself. You need this job; you know this job. Taking it is the right thing to do. It’s an answer to your prayers. But what about taking the job away from Carla? And could she work with Brandon on an ongoing basis?

  “You’re still here.”

  She jumped and spun around, the expectation of being alone heightening the fear of discovering she wasn’t. Brandon stood a few feet away. He’d gone home, changed his clothes, and was dressed in a T-shirt and long gym short
s. It was weird to see him in something other than Dockers and button-downs.

  “You scared me,” Chrissy said, letting out a breath but remaining very much on guard.

  He didn’t apologize; he just smiled at her as if to say that had been his point. “I brought you something to eat.”

  Chrissy looked at the Subway bag he held in his left hand, then back at his face. “Thank you. That’s very nice, but I’m not hungry.” She was starving. Other than a Snickers bar and some almonds she’d gotten from the vending machine at the Laundromat next door, she’d eaten nothing all day. But as far as Brandon was concerned, she wasn’t hungry at all.

  “Nonsense,” he said, walking to the desk and pulling out the sandwich. “Just take a break. Eat with me.”

  Chrissy didn’t move. “Didn’t you eat with your family?” She emphasized the word in hopes that it would remind him he had no right to be alone with her like this. He’d been married for at least six years and had two children.

  “Marni took the kids to her parents’ place in Salt Lake for the weekend. Her cousin is getting married. You wouldn’t want me to eat alone, would you?”

  Chrissy said nothing and returned to her filing, anxiously considering her options. She could leave—tell him he was a jerk and smash the blasted sandwich in his face. But that option ended with her going home jobless and hopeless. But would she really take advances from a married man in order to keep her job? Part of her would. She needed this job—badly—and she wasn’t afraid of him. She was pretty sure that if it came to punches, she could take him. In the next moment, however, she was angry. Why did he have to be such a weasel?

  She took a breath and turned around. He hadn’t opened his sandwich; instead, he was leaning back in a chair with his arms behind his head, leering at her. For an instant she pictured Micah, the way he always watched her too. But that was different. Micah looked at her in a way that made her think he wanted to see inside her, know what she was thinking, how she felt. A very different kind of wanting. Or, at least she’d thought that’s what it was, or thought it could be. She still hadn’t gotten over his pronouncement, no matter how hard she tried to push it into the corner of her mind.

  “Um, would it be possible for me to get paid tonight for the time I’ve put in these last couple weeks?” She turned to face him and tried to look casual in her request.

  “I thought we could just pay you on payday. Carla added you to the payroll already.”

  “Right,” Chrissy said as if this was an acceptable option, which it wasn’t. “And that’s okay, but I’m in a bit of a financial bind and could really use an advance. I’d be very grateful.”

  Brandon raised an eyebrow. She fantasized hitting him in the head with a cinder block. He reached into his pocket. “I could give you a personal advance,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “I have no problem paying for services rendered.”

  Chrissy pretended not to notice the implication. “Thanks.”

  He pulled out almost three hundred dollars and handed it to her. She took it, trying not to smile at her triumph, and rolled it into her palm. “Thanks again,” she said, before taking a breath. She was paid up and could now vocalize her concerns without fear of getting ripped off. “If I’m going to come back full-time, we need to establish some professional boundaries.”

  Brandon managed to look surprised. “Boundaries?” he said, chuckling. “Have I crossed some boundaries?”

  “Yes, you have.” She waved toward the sandwiches on the desk. “Like bringing me dinner.”

  “I just thought you’d be hungry. I certainly won’t do it again.” He was still smirking at her. “Anything else?”

  She closed her hand around the bills. “I don’t appreciate the way you look at me and—”

  “How do I look at you?”

  Chrissy felt like a child having to point this out but she wasn’t going to dance around it. “You look at my breasts. A lot.”

  “I apologize,” he said in a patronizing tone. He still wore that slick little smile on his face. “Is that all?”

  “And I don’t like you to speak Spanish to me. It’s not professional.”

  “Oh, okay, no more Spanish.”

  This was not working. He was simply letting her talk, and none of her words were making an impact. She turned back to the files and tried to gather her thoughts and words together. If he’d listened to her, maybe there would be a chance she could stay on, but she was simply some kind of entertainment to him. Her stomach dropped and she let her head fall forward, letting herself mourn for just a minute. If she didn’t work here, where would she find a job?

  “You have to admit though—” He was right behind her. She jumped and spun around to face him, pressing her back against the files and trying to swallow. His face was only inches from her own. “You do have very nice—”

  In one motion she brought up her knee, hard, and as soon as he grunted, she pushed against both his shoulders and ran for the door. Brandon fell against a filing cabinet and was still moaning as she grabbed her shoes and purse on the way out, the bills he’d given her still tightly gripped in her hand. She didn’t stop running until she reached her car and as she pulled out of the parking lot, she knew she’d never be back.

  Chapter 57

  The rest of the evening Chrissy tried to tell herself she was okay, that nothing had happened, but she could still feel Brandon’s breath on her neck, and it made her shiver. She locked all her doors, even though she knew it was silly, and she worked on the dress for Lupe—first while playing her Shakira CD at full blast, and then switching to Josh Groban, in need of something peaceful. She’d done nothing wrong, and Brandon hadn’t even touched her, yet she still felt dirty and vulnerable to have even been the object involved. Had she somehow sent out signals that she would be open to that kind of thing? Had she been a precursor to his action? The idea made her sick. Should she tell his wife? That made her even more sick. What would she say? What would his wife do? Would she blame Chrissy?

  She considered talking to Amanda about it, but she’d probably tell Cam, and Chrissy didn’t want that kind of advertising. She’d called Livvy, hoping she’d answer, needing to talk to someone. She was even ready to apologize, forgive everything, just to have a connection to someone who could tell her she’d done the right thing today. But the call went straight to voice mail, and she didn’t leave a message.

  At ten, the sun was down, the evening shadows having been sucked into the night. The CD had come to the end, and she was finishing the zipper on the Quinceañera dress, glad that she could take it to Lupe tomorrow and get some money. The bank had sent a letter; for now, they were refunding her five hundred dollars but were still working on the rest. She was grateful they’d restored some of her money, but it wouldn’t pay the mortgage that was due next week.

  The silence bouncing between the walls and furniture was suffocating. When she finished cleaning the kitchen, there were no more distractions to keep everything from falling in on her. She stood in the middle of her living room and felt herself giving in to despair. “I’m not weak,” she said out loud, wanting to believe it was true, yet overwhelmed with feeling so affected by the things happening around her.

  How did she shake off the fact that someone else was living life in her name, while, piece by piece, the edges of her own life were crumbling? How did she confront a married man making advances on her? How did she make sense of the connection to Micah she felt, even though his life was apparently too “complicated” for him to feel the same way toward her?

  She shook her head, wanting to clear out the thoughts, tear away the chains that seemed to have snaked their way around her ankles and wrists. Where would she find a job now? How would she pay her bills? Was this other Chressaidia still posing as her, still complicating her life and sinking her further into a pit she could not claw her way out of? And what of Livvy? What of the kids? Would they ever be a part of her life again? Had she lost the only family she would ever have? She had a cour
t date in a week. Had she made any progress? Would the judge believe her? Could she go to jail again? She clenched her eyes shut and balled her fists.

  “This is not fair,” she said to no one. Never in her life had she felt so powerless, and she hated it. It was not the way life was supposed to be. Life was about choices, about agency, and she felt denied, trapped by the choices of others. A few days ago she’d turned to her scriptures and they’d empowered her enough to get her going again, but she’d lost that drive somewhere.

  “This is not what it’s supposed to be,” she said again. She paused. She went very still and then lifted her head as thoughts came together in her mind. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and waiting it out, enduring consequences of poor choices she had not made wouldn’t make it better. She’d done nothing wrong.

  Then do something, a voice said in her mind. A voice she recognized. In the next instant, an electric current seemed to travel through her body before resting in her head, making her brain buzz and her thoughts connect. I am not alone, she thought to herself. And I am not insignificant.

  “And I am Chressaidia Josefina Salazar,” she said out loud. This other woman, for all her clever tactics and brilliant scheming, was not Chrissy, and until Chrissy could prove that to everyone else, she would be trapped in the world this other woman was creating for her. That was not the plan of her Father in Heaven, to be forced into an existence over which Chrissy had no control. Perhaps she couldn’t fix everything. But she could do something. She took a deep breath, expanding her lungs, filling her body with new breath and fresh convictions.

  Something Micah had said to her the other day came to mind and she said it out loud, knowing it was the truth: “No one will fight for me as hard as I will fight for myself.”

  Chapter 58

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  Saturday, May 31

  Livvy spent Saturday running errands and straightening the farmhouse. Doug was working that weekend, and she was glad to have some private time with the kids.