Spying on the Boss

by Janet Lee Nye

  She chose another flavor. With the light white wines such as the vinho verde she was currently drinking, the fruit flavors were the best. The toffee and cream flavors were better with a smooth buttery chardonnay. Then she stared at the bookshelf. She should get rid of it. Every time she looked at it, it would remind her. She thought back over the evening for about the thousandth time and still came up blank. Not one clue, not one hint, not one thing had stood out or raised any alarms. Even in hindsight. He’d been good, to completely slip through her defenses.

  Her phone vibrated on the coffee table and she glared at it. If it were Molly or Josh calling to check on her again, she was going to beat the phone to death with a hammer. It was Lena. She stretched for it, sloshing wine down her arm. It was a little after eight and Lena was supposed to be out on a date with a new guy.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m at your back door.”

  “I thought you were on a date.”

  A rapid-fire burst of Spanish filled Sadie’s ear. Too fast for her to catch any of it except the pronto at the end. She moved the bowl and rolled to her feet.

  “Come on, Jack. Pee time.”

  She made her way down the stairs a little unsteadily. Sheesh, how much wine had she drunk? Maybe a food group other than jelly beans was in order. Jack pushed past Lena as she opened the door.

  “What’s the matter?” Sadie asked.

  “Nothing’s the matter. Not with me.” Lena lifted the bags in her hands. “I’ve brought sustenance and sisterhood.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Molly at first. I ignored her. You know how sappy and sentimental she gets. Everything is a drama. But when Josh called, I knew it was serious.”

  “I don’t need you guys talking about me behind my back. I’m fine.”

  “Oh, please. Get your dog. I’m going upstairs.”

  Sadie whistled for Jack, but he was too busy inspecting the perimeter of his territory to come right away. She leaned against the doorjamb and watched him. The last of the light hadn’t been gone for long and the air held an unusual hint of coolness as if spring was reluctant to give way to summer. The night symphony of crickets was beginning to stir. Soon enough it would be sticky hot even in the darkest of the night. She looked up at the sky. Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might. What would you wish for if wishes were real? She clapped her hands to tell Jack she wasn’t kidding. She would wish she had never let herself believe any of this love shit was real. That’s what.

  Upstairs, Jack made a beeline for the coffee table where Lena had set out an assortment of take-out boxes. Sadie’s own nose identified Thai food and her stomach grumbled. Lena walked in from the hall. She had changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt and her hands swept her heavy dark hair up into a ponytail.

  “What’s all this?” Sadie asked.

  “Jelly beans, sushi, pad thai and cinnamon whiskey.”

  “Sounds like a Chopped basket.”

  Lena flopped on the couch and reached for the whiskey. “Appetizer, entrée or dessert?” she asked. She twisted the bottle open and poured two healthy shots.

  Sadie sat beside her and took the offered shot glass. “Dessert.”

  They clinked glasses and downed the shots.

  “Hoo-whee!” Lena cried and shook her head.

  Sadie enjoyed the burn of the whiskey down her throat. Happy to have a physical reason for the pain lodged there. She slipped off the couch to sit on the floor and began to open packages.

  “Salmon avocado rolls. You remembered!”

  “You are a boring stick in the mud.” Lena sat beside her and gave her a sisterly bump as they made their way through the sushi.

  “What happened to your date? The mythical living-room beta and bedroom alpha?” Sadie asked after she’d put away three pieces of sushi and life began to return to her poor protein-starved body.

  “He’s a loser. Thought he’d alpha me into bed before we even went out on our first date. He’ll never make the same mistake again with any other female on the planet, I can guarantee you that.”

  Sadie spooned half the pad Thai into a bowl and leaned back against the couch. “Josh told you?”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I know he hurt you.”

  The lump was back. She pushed it down with a swallow of noodles.

  “I can’t believe he lied to me. I can’t believe that scumbag Canard. Telling Wyatt I was some sort of backward madam.”

  “Seriously! What ridiculous sexism. Men can’t clean so they must be providing sex? Or women wouldn’t hire men to clean, but would for sex? Or a woman couldn’t soundly beat out a business competitor unless she’s using sex? He’s such a stupid pig.”

  Sadie poured another round of shots. “To Marcus. May he get boils on his ass!”

  They clinked and swallowed. Sadie put the bowl of noodles down and eyed the giant bag of jelly beans Lena had brought. She’d been eating her own stash. Perfectly good. But these were fresher. Yum.

  “No jelly beans until you’ve had real food.”

  “I had real food.”

  Lena reached for the remote and flicked on the television. “Food. Chopped. And then dessert.”

  After they’d finished off the takeout and cleaned up the mess, and after Lena had won the make-up-a-Chopped-basket contest with catnip, octopus tentacles and Cheerios for the appetizer round, they stood facing the bookshelf.

  “Looks good.”

  Sadie sat on the arm of the couch. “He helped me.”

  “He who? Oh, him?”

  Sadie hugged herself. The wave of sadness and regret washing over her left her breathless. Lena’s hand, warm and tender, rubbed across her shoulders.

  “Yeah,” she said in a whisper. “He came over to tell me he was going to resign, and I had it spread out in here and he stayed and helped me put it together.”

  “Well. Seems like a nice thing to do.”

  Sadie snorted out a laugh. “I want to smash it to splinters.”

  “That’s extreme. It’s a gorgeous piece. Fits perfectly. It’s going to look awesome once you fill it with books and knickknacks. Pictures.”

  “I slept with him.”

  The hand on her back froze. “What?”

  She fell over backward onto the couch, legs dangling over the arm, and covered her face. “I don’t know what happened. We were putting it together, and...that smile. And those eyes. That body. I couldn’t stop.”

  Lena pried her hands from her eyes to stare down at her. “You what?”

  “I slept with him.”

  She let herself go limp and stared up at the ceiling. There. She’d said it out loud to another human being. She was so stupid. Had slept with the enemy and hadn’t even known it. Like the simpering idiot who’s the first to die in a horror movie, she’d been oblivious to any warning signs and gone down into the basement alone. Tears rolled down into her ears. The pain in her heart was back.

  “Was it good, at least?”

  “Freaking amazing. Best ever.”

  “Up.”

  Lena tugged on her hand and she swung into a sitting position, but in the form of a ball in the corner of the couch. A shot glass full of whiskey appeared before her eyes. She took it.

  “Truth time.”

  She brought the glass to her lips and held it there. Truth time was serious stuff. To drink on it would commit her to telling things she might not want to tell. Stuff maybe she should tell her best friend. She downed the shot. It was her third. On top of the wine, Lena really hadn’t had to invoke the oath of truth telling. She was probably drunk enough to spill her guts to Marcus himself by now.

  “What happened?”

  She opened her mouth to say she didn’t know. But she did. She knew. She told Lena every
thing. Jules’s curls. The almost kiss. The first kiss. The absolute loss of any sort of sense she had in his presence. If only she could say it was just that she wanted his body. Because then she could dismiss the sex as meaningless. Then the betrayal wouldn’t sting quite as sharply. A drunken sob tore at her throat. Lena pulled her into a hug and held on while she cried.

  “I can’t,” she said, pushing away and standing up. “I can’t sit around and weep over this. I’m not wasting my time on him. Not even going to feel bad about it. He’s the one who lied. He’s the bad guy here. He’s the one who should be crying.”

  Brilliant! He needed to be told. “Where’s my phone? I’ve got a few things to say to Mr. Private Investig... Investi-liar Man.”

  “Time out. Enough is enough.” Lena snatched Sadie’s phone from the table and stuffed it in her bra. “Friends don’t let friends dial drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk! How dare he act like he cares about me and make me think...”

  She stopped and rubbed at the center of her chest. The ache was back. There was the tipping point of this entire mess. She didn’t think he’d pretended to care about her. Not unless he was the most skilled actor on the planet. But she couldn’t reconcile those feelings with the lie.

  “Made you think what, honey?”

  She didn’t answer. She dropped to the couch and pulled open the bag of jelly beans. Sweet jelly beans. Tiny little jewels of sugary goodness. She jiggled the pack and wondered what flavor pairing would work best with the whiskey.

  “Did you fall in love with him, Sadie?”

  The softly spoken words cut through her. Her lips quivered and she pressed them together to hide the emotion. She’d promised truth.

  “I was trying not to. I’d told him I didn’t think I was cut out for the whole relationship thing, but I was going to talk to him. See if maybe we could try. If we took it slow.”

  She ate more jelly beans. Complete humiliation burned through her like the whiskey. “And the whole time he was lying. I feel like such a complete fool.”

  “You haven’t made a bigger fool of yourself than any other woman has done at some point in her life, Sades. We all have. The smart ones only once. Most of us do it a few times.”

  “Well, I’m not doing it again.”

  Sadie curled up in the corner of the couch again. “There’s something else.”

  “You’re pregnant!”

  “Of course not! Go wash your mouth out with Lysol! What a horrible thing to say!”

  Lena laughed and held up the whiskey bottle. Sadie nodded. “Double.”

  “I ain’t cleaning up puke.”

  “I won’t puke.”

  Lena handed her the almost-full shot glass and she held it up. Her eyes met Lena’s. “Sister truth.”

  “Sister truth.”

  Sadie waited for the burning to fade and for the rush of alcohol to hit her brain. She was seriously going to regret this tomorrow. She sat forward, cross-legged, and leaned sideways to put the glass down with a deliberate clunk. Taking a deep breath, she faced Lena.

  “I talked to Grant.”

  It took a moment. Sadie watched her friend’s face move from Who? to Oh, my God! in a matter of seconds. Lena’s hands, warm and strong, grasped Sadie’s.

  “Digame.”

  She told her. How he’d had suspicions. How he’d confronted their mother with the evidence. His letter. “He wants to have a relationship. To get to know each other.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “Terrified.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That I needed some time. He was okay with that. Seems like a nice enough guy. Just graduated from Wofford College and got a job at a medical research company in Raleigh.”

  “But?”

  “I feel like I can’t. I wouldn’t mind getting to know him. But I can’t have anything to do with my mother. I can’t. I’ve thought about it and thought about it until I want to scream.”

  “One doesn’t necessarily mean you have to have the other.”

  Sadie flopped back on the couch cushions. “He said that. The problem for me is that he’d have to lie to her. At the very least it’d be a lie of omission. I don’t want to put him in that position.”

  She considered the whiskey bottle. No. Not a good idea. She settled for more jelly beans. She took three. Three is a good number.

  “He said he thought she’d want to meet me. But he could tell her that I don’t want to.”

  She stopped. Her head was pounding from more than the incipient hangover. She had no words for the feelings slithering like a basket of snakes within her at the idea of seeing her mother.

  She felt Lena’s gentle squeeze on her hand. “I hate her, Lena,” she whispered. “I hate her so much. And I hate her more now that I know she was a good mother to Grant and the others.”

  “Then get to know only Grant. The sisters, too, if you want. You don’t owe your mother anything, Sadie.”

  “I know. But I keep thinking about Lito. I told him about the letter. I promised him that I would give my blood family a chance. And I’m not very good with this relationship stuff.”

  “No!” Lena gasped mockingly.

  “You noticed? Seriously, I think if I face my past maybe I can do better in the future. Is that dumb?”

  “No. I think it’s exactly what you need to do. Doesn’t mean you have to meet her. Unless that’s what you want.”

  “I know what I want. I want all this pain to be gone. I’m tired of being the abandoned foster kid. I just want to be me now. But I don’t know how. If I met with her, if I faced her, would the pain go away? Or would it make things worse?”

  Lena’s voice was soft and warm. “I don’t know, sister. Only you know that.”

  Her heart pounded against her ribs at a sickening pace. She couldn’t seem to pull in a normal breath.

  “What if she says she just didn’t want me?”

  “Oh, Sadie.” Lena pulled her close, a hand brushing through her hair. “That’s impossible.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “GOT ENOUGH DIRT THERE, you think?”

  Wyatt swiped at the sweat beading on his forehead and turned. Charlie and Shiloh walked through the backyard. Jules squealed at the sight of her friend and ran to her. Wyatt watched the two girls greet each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in years rather than one day.

  “We’re building a garden,” he said to Charlie as she toed the small mountain of garden soil.

  She put her hands on her hips. White capri pants and a white blouse glowed against her booth-tanned skin. Approximately ten pounds of gold jewelry was draped around her neck and wrists. Bright gold eye shadow. He could appreciate her unique style now that she’d stopped hitting on him. He certainly appreciated the friendship growing between them.

  “You get my little Prissy McPrincess to put her hands in dirt, mister, you better be getting me a picture.”

  That made him laugh, which felt good. Ever since he’d left the Crew’s office the day before, he hadn’t had much to laugh about. The rage Sadie had rained down on him was nothing compared to the betrayed pain in her eyes. The anger was deserved. He knew she’d be angry. The pain was salt in the wound.

  “I think they’ll be okay. I’ve got an art project for them.”

  He walked her over to the picnic table under the spreading arms of the live oak at the rear of the yard. Jules was already showing everything to Shiloh. Construction paper, crayons, glitter, glue, stickers. A hard lesson learned: never set an eight-year-old girl free in the craft aisle at Walmart. The first basket had totaled out at over fifty bucks. The paring down had been brutal.

  “Hi, Ms. Charlie. We’re making the signs for the plants.”

  “Well, sounds like fun. I�
��m going to want some of these veggies once the garden comes in, okay?”

  “Okay!”

  The girls turned their attention back to picking out a color scheme for the garden signs. Charlie nudged Wyatt. “You up for this? Two of ’em are worse than ten, I swear.”

  “I was a squad leader in Afghanistan. I think I got this.”

  Charlie laughed. “Okay, tough guy. We’ll see how you feel about it later. But for now, here’s an emergency kit.”

  Wyatt looked into the tote bag Charlie handed him. An assortment of Disney movies and a box of Little Debbie swiss roll cakes. He might have to confiscate those. Charlie patted at her nonexistent hip.

  “I got my phone. You good with the plan?”

  “Call at noon. If you answer, make up an emergency. If you don’t, all is well.”

  “Perfect. Thank you. Damn. I don’t know why I even bother with this dating stuff. Ain’t no good men my age. If they were any good, they’d’ve made their marriages work.”

  Wyatt draped his arm across her bony shoulders and gave little squeeze. “You are going to be fine. If he doesn’t appreciate you, he’s not worth your time.”

  “Honey, ain’t that the truth. Okay. Call me. As planned or just if you need me.”

  Wyatt saluted her and was rewarded with an amused laugh.

  “Okay, girls. I’m going to finish putting the raised beds together. Then we’ll put the dirt in.”

  Two little faces stared up at him. Sun and moon. Shiloh with her corn-silk blond hair and blue eyes and Jules with her black hair and dark brown eyes could not have been more different. But their expressions of disgust were identical.

  “Are there bugs in the dirt, Uncle Wyatt?”