Fate

by Tia Wylder

  “Please take your hand away,” I said, gently pushing Angela’s hand off my shoulder. “This isn’t professional behavior, Angela, and it could get me in a lot of trouble.”

  “Oh, Barnes, I love it when you act like you don’t want me,” Angela purred. “It’s such a turn-on.”

  Before I had time to react, she was leaning down and kissing me. Panic flared in my chest and I pushed her away with both hands, gently but firmly.

  “Come on,” Angela whined. “Just a little makeout session, hmm? That’s not going to hurt anyone…and I’m so horny,” she added in a breathy voice. “Please, Barnes?”

  “No,” I said firmly, getting to my feet and shaking my head. “And Mrs. Davis, I’m going to have to ask you to leave my office, or I’ll need to call security.”

  Angela’s smug, simpering smile faded, and I saw a look of sharp anger come into her eyes.

  “I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life,” she said angrily. “What are you, gay? What kind of man turns down a woman like me?”

  “A man who doesn’t want to be sued for unethical conduct,” I said. “I could lose my ability to practice law, Angela, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let that happen. My job is too important.”

  Angela narrowed her eyes into tiny, angry slits. “You men and your jobs,” she said in a nasty tone. “You think that’s all that matters – you think that’s all anyone cares about!”

  I shrugged. “It’s all I care about,” I said. “Now, please leave, Angela. And in the future, I’m going to have my paralegal sit in whenever we meet, just to make sure that we keep to professional standards.”

  Angela grabbed her designer handbag and clutched it to her chest, still glaring at me. “You’re going to regret this,” she said angrily. “This won’t be the last you hear from me!”

  I waited until she’d stormed out of my office before flopping down in my chair and rolling my eyes. “Of course it won’t be the last time I hear from you,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re my client. We’re going to be working together until your divorce is finalized.”

  I’d been working as a lawyer for over ten years, and for the most part, I’d always thought that I’d enjoyed my job. But year after year of high-profile cases and demanding, high-maintenance clients was starting to make me feel much older than my thirty-seven years. Sometimes, in the mornings, I dreaded going into the office so much that my stomach ached. It was ridiculous – this was why I’d started my own firm, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit. And even though my name was the only name on the door, I still felt as miserable as I did back when I’d been reporting to other, older lawyers that had mentored me through the years.

  The sun outside was setting, and I decided that I was too muddled to do any more work for the rest of the day. I whistled as I grabbed my laptop and tucked it into my briefcase before shrugging on my overcoat and a plaid woolen scarf. Autumn in Boston was my favorite time of year, but I’d been working so much that I’d barely gotten the chance to enjoy it. My best friend Jack and his wife, Adele, kept inviting me to visit them at their home in Nassau, but I hadn’t taken more than a single day off in over two years. I knew that I needed to take a vacation or risk burning out, but I had so many high-profile cases at the moment that I wasn’t able to rest.

  Maybe I should think about hiring another partner, I thought as I closed the office door behind me and made sure the door was locked. My office was located in a historic building downtown that dated back to the eighteenth century. When I’d first bought the building, I’d loved the idea of going to work there every day. But now the thought filled me with dread.

  The air was crisp and chill, but it felt so good to be outside that I didn’t even think of taking a cab. I strolled along the brick streets, smelling the fresh scent of fall as I walked. As soon as I got home, I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto my leather couch, flipping through channels until I found a college football game. Mindless violence was always good, especially after the kind of day I’d had, and I found myself dozing off before halftime.

  The buzzing of my phone in my pocket woke me up an hour later. Groggily, I reached into my pocket and swiped open the call.

  “Hello?”

  “How dare you treat my wife like that,” an angry male voice thundered. “She’s paying lots of good money – my money! – and I won’t have her disrespected!”

  I squinted. “Sorry, who is this?”

  “This is Harold Davis,” the man sputtered angrily. “Angela told me everything when she got home. She was practically traumatized! She said you ripped her dress like an animal and tried to have your way with her!”

  I groaned. “Fuck,” I muttered. “No. That’s not what happened, not at all. Your wife came to me when we were wrapping up for the day. She tried to kiss me, and I turned her down. She was offended, and I told her to leave my office.”

  “Well, that’s not what Angela said!” Harold yelled angrily. “And I won’t have it, Barnes! You’re fired!”

  Fuck.

  “I swear to god, I didn’t try to molest your wife,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “And I’ll have everything smoothed out as soon as possible, I promise.”

  “Too late,” Harold snapped. “You’re fired, and this won’t be the last of it. I’m going to the papers, and I’m going to make sure they hear everything.” He hung up before I had the chance to argue.

  My heart sank as I closed my eyes and flopped back on the couch, my head spinning. I couldn’t believe it – when was this shit going to end?

  After thinking for a moment, I dialed Jack’s number.

  “Barnes!” Jack said in a jovial voice. “My man! It’s been too long since I’ve heard from you!”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Look, I need your help,” I told Jack everything that had taken place in my office earlier.

  Jack snorted. “She’s a fucking nut,” he said. “And aren’t they getting divorced?”

  “Maybe her lie is the glue that’s going to fix their marriage,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t know. All I know is that my reputation is going to be trashed if I can’t manage to fix this on my own.”

  Jack was silent for a long moment. “You know, you’re always welcome here. I could use a good lawyer,” he said. “Especially with all the developments I have in the works.”

  “You know I couldn’t do that,” I said.

  “What, move to Nassau?” Jack sounded surprised. “Man, it’s beautiful here. It’s like paradise. I don’t miss Boston at all.”

  “No,” I said drily. “Rely on your charity to get me out of a bend. I have to make a change, Jack, but I don’t know what it is, yet.”

  “You’re always welcome here,” Jack repeated firmly. “And I’m sure Adele would agree with me.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think that’s the place for me,” I said.

  “Well, why not come down for a while and figure it out?” Jack suggested.

  I sighed. “I…I feel like I’d be running away from my problems,” I said honestly. “I know I have to make a change, but I’m not sure what it is.”

  Jack paused. “Why not…I don’t know, move across the country? Did you ever want to do anything besides going to law school?”

  “A lot of things,” I admitted. “But my father said it was always best to go with the most lucrative option.”

  “Well, take some time off and explore something else,” Jack said. “And if it sucks, well, you can always try again.” He laughed. “That’s the beauty of life, right?”

  I sighed. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess it really is.”

  Chapter 3

  Gianna

  In the morning, I felt even worse. My parents had always treated me like a child, but sending my dad’s bodyguard after me was a new low. It was like they didn’t believe I was capable of doing anything on my own, even going out for a few drinks with my best friend.

  I stayed in bed until it was past noon, staring at the ceiling and wondering w
hat I’d have to do in order to get things to change. Around one-thirty, I grabbed my laptop and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over my legs as I settled in amongst the pillows. Rent can’t be that expensive around here, I thought as I began searching for local apartments. But I was astonished to learn how expensive everything was – it was practically impossible to find something within the Boston city limits for under fifteen hundred dollars a month!

  I’d never really thought about money. I always had some – Mom and Dad usually gave me one hundred dollars every other week or so, and whenever I needed to go shopping, I borrowed Dad’s credit card (with his permission, of course.) But I’d never really paid for anything on my own. Back in high school, I’d always wanted to get a part time job. But Mom had said, “Gianna, that’s beneath you,” and that had been enough to discourage me. Plus, Jessica had worked for a local pizza place, and she’d never stopped complaining about how her hair and skin smelled like grease whenever she finished a shift. Between that and my mother’s comment, I hadn’t thought about working since.

  But now, suddenly, the idea was almost appealing to me. I liked the idea of going out on my own, of forging my own way in the world and making my own living. After all, it couldn’t be that hard, could it?

  I spent the rest of the day searching for local places that were hiring. There were a few restaurants and bars, so I sent in my name and phone number, hoping I could charm my way into a job. Obviously, I didn’t have any experience…but how I was supposed to get that without working?

  That night at dinner, Diane barely looked at me. She pushed her roasted pork chop around on her plate and didn’t speak.

  “You’re both so quiet,” Mom said. She looked at me and narrowed her eyes.

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to say anything about my day of searching until I actually landed a job. “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m just not very hungry.”

  “Gianna, please don’t sulk,” Mom said lightly. “It’s very unattractive.”

  I looked down at my plate and rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said. “I won’t.”

  The truth was, I was both excited and nervous. What if no one called me and asked me to come in for an interview? I hadn’t thought of that – I’d been so focused on the idea of getting a job that I hadn’t stopped to think about what would happen if I couldn’t.

  “I’m going upstairs,” I said suddenly, standing up and taking my plate over to the sink.

  Mom frowned. “Gianna, you barely ate anything. Are you coming down with something?”

  Just an overwhelming desire to leave home and never come back, I thought. But instead, I forced a smile.

  “No,” I said. “Just tired. That’s all.”

  The next day, I was excited when I woke up to see that I had two missed calls and a voicemail from one of the restaurants where I’d applied. When I listened to the message, I had to cover my mouth to keep from squealing in glee. They’d asked me to come in at eleven-thirty for an interview, and I jumped up and down as I tossed my phone down on my bed. After dressing in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse, I went downstairs.

  Mom was standing in the kitchen, watching as Ceri put together an apple pie.

  “You’re up early,” Mom said. She frowned. “And where are you going, looking like that?”

  “Jessica asked me to get lunch,” I said. “I felt like wearing something nice for a change.”

  “Do you want me to have Curtis drive you?” Mom yawned. “I think your father is at home.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I’ll just call a cab.”

  Mom narrowed her eyes but she didn’t say anything. “I see,” she said. “And when will you be back?”

  I shrugged. “Whenever we finish eating, I guess,” I said.

  Mom sighed. “You know, I really shouldn’t let you go, especially after what happened the other night.”

  I groaned. “Mom, it’s just lunch. Come on!”

  Mom tutted and shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “Are you sure about Curtis?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine,” I said.

  As I walked down the long cobblestone driveway that led to our palatial house, I couldn’t help but smile. Even though the cab waiting at the end of the drive was grimy and dirty, the sight of it still filled me with joy at the knowledge that soon, I was going to make a life for myself…no matter what it took.

  When the cab pulled up in front of Trembling Orchard, I began to feel nervous. What would happen if I didn’t get the job? Or, almost worse – what would happen if I got the job and then couldn’t figure out a way to lie to my parents every day?

  I’ll figure it out later, I told myself as I squared my shoulders and walked inside, trying to project an air of confidence. I always do.

  A smiling hostess greeted me. “Table for one?”

  I smiled back. “I’m actually here for an interview. I’m Gianna DiFaba – they wanted me to come in at eleven-thirty.”

  The girl’s smile faltered, and for a moment I wondered if I hadn’t accidentally come to the wrong place. But after a moment, she nodded. “This way, please.”

  I swallowed nervously as the girl led me to a small office. There was an older woman sitting down behind the desk, and she cocked her head to the side.

  “I’m Gianna,” I said. “Gianna DiFaba – you wanted me to come in for an interview?”

  The woman frowned. “Well, you didn’t call us back to confirm,” she said, glancing down at a sheet of paper in front of her. “And normally that’s something we look for. But we do have an opening, so why not have a seat?”

  My stomach churned as I sat down in front of the desk. “Sorry I didn’t call you back,” I said nervously, twisting my hands in my lap. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  “Hm,” was all the woman said. “I’m Marie,” she said. “I’m the manager of Trembling Orchard. Tell me, what prospect of working here has you the most excited?”

  “Oh, getting a job, definitely,” I said quickly. “I’ve always wanted a job.”

  “Hm,” Marie said again. “No, I mean, what about this restaurant specifically?”

  I flushed. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know very much about the restaurant…but I could learn,” I said, smiling and nodding. “I’m always willing to learn, and I’m really eager to work here.”

  “Gianna, do you have a resume for me? What kind of work experience do you have?”

  Shit, I thought as I sank back against the chair.

  “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Marie said. “Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. And then, seeing Marie’s forced smile begin to fade, I quickly added: “But I’ve spent loads of time with our cook, Ceri, watching her do everything in the kitchen, and I know I’d probably be good at it. Oh, and whenever my parents have catered parties, I always watch the caterers. They’re so good at their jobs!”

  Marie gave me an odd look. “Gianna, I’m not sure you would be the best fit for this role,” she said slowly.

  “Why not?” I frowned. “I’ve never had a job before, but I promise I’d be a really good worker. I swear,” I said, well aware that I sounded desperate. It was embarrassing – I’d never had to beg for anything in my life.

  “Gianna, how much money are you looking to make, exactly?”

  I frowned. I had no idea how much my father made, but I knew it had to be well into the seven-figure range. I’ll just cut one of the numbers off, and then that’s probably fine, I thought, trying to calculate in my head. “Um, I don’t know – two hundred thousand a year?”

  Marie laughed out loud. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, covering her mouth. “Gianna, I don’t even make that much money…and this is one of Boston’s premier restaurants,” she said. Her voice was sharp, but not unkind. “Look, can I give you a piece of advice?”

  “Okay,” I said nervously.

  “Why don’t you look into enrolling in a community college and taking a few classes,”
Marie said. “They often have on-campus jobs for students, and something like that would allow you to get some work experience.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t expected her to say anything like that.

  “I don’t think my parents would let me,” I said.

  Marie sighed. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “You’re too old to let your parents dictate your every move,” Marie said firmly. “And if you want to be independent, you’re going to have to learn how to do it on your own.”

  I flushed scarlet. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thank you.”