Aggie the Horrible vs. Max the Pompous Ass

by Lisa Wells

  Realization that this wasn’t some big damn joke on her part that could be solved with a conversation slammed him like he was the first car in a ten-car pile-up on the highway where everyone was going ninety-five in a seventy-five zone. “Sorry! You think sorry will fix any of this?”

  She blinked.

  “Well?” He stepped out from behind his desk.

  She stood and walked to the side of her desk as if ready to make a run for the door. She looked him in the eyes, and tears formed.

  He jerked his gaze away and glanced down at her feet, expecting her signature heels. She had them on. But they didn’t match. One pink. One black. “Tell me this is some horrible joke on your part.” He looked up at her, hoping like hell he’d see a got-you smile.

  “It’s not. I’m a total fuckup.” She swiped at her face where a tear dropped. “It’s just…I’ve been…I’m so sorry. I’ve been distracted by—”

  “Distracted. Your leaving town on the back of some hoodlum’s bike and missing the fundraiser is distracted.” He didn’t care how devastated she looked or that she shed a damn tear over the incident. “This—”

  “Unforgivable. I know.”

  He snorted. This explained all of her jobs since graduating from college. All of the men sending mooing messages to her phone. It wasn’t because she kept changing them until she found the perfect fit. It was because she was a fuckup and no doubt fucked up every job, every relationship she’d ever had. “How? How do you screw up a guy’s life in the space of two months?”

  She stood very still. “It’s what I do.”

  Not enough. He fucking deserved a real answer. “Was Bill that great of a fuck?”

  She jerked. “You have no right—”

  His head exploded. “You’re right. I don’t. But you know what I do have the right to do? Fire you. You’re fired. Take your things and get out. Get out of my office. Get out of my sight. Get out of my fucking life.”

  Her irresponsibility cost him the deal. The deal that would finally make his father sit up and take notice. The deal that would prove he could run with the big dogs. The deal that would make him his first million. Now, his dad would continue to see him as a joke. And his heart was fucking collateral damage.

  Aggie didn’t move. “You haven’t even asked me what happened. I’ll have you know—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what your side of the story is. You could have run into Jesus himself, and that wouldn’t excuse your screw up or your night with—”

  “Really? Jesus himself wouldn’t get me out of this?”

  “I should have never hired you. My original opinion of you was spot on.”

  “I’ll have you know—”

  “Shut up. Just shut up. You’re a fucking screwup and the bane of my existence.”

  All of the color drained from her face. “Your what?”

  “My gut told me not to hire you. I should have listened. My gut has never led me wrong. My dick, on the other hand, has. Obviously.” She spent the fucking night with Bill.

  “That’s not fair.” Indignation whipped across her face. “I’ve done a great job—”

  “A great job? Is that what you call screwing up the best deal I’ve ever had a chance at making? I don’t call that a great job. I call that a fuckup. My friend told me apples—”

  “Don’t fall far from the tree. I know. I heard. Mom’s a felon, therefore, that’s in—”

  “You’re fired. Take your things and get out of my sight.”

  She moved around her desk and sat down in her chair. “I’m not going anywhere. We have a contract.”

  “Then you’re on permanent vacation.”

  A sob tore out of her throat, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  “Fuck you. I quit. I’m tired of working for a stick-in-the-mud prick. My life didn’t suck bowling balls before I met you. Being around you day in and day out is like living in a…a drab factory. One where a person isn’t even allowed to defend themselves.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. Compared to Bill, she found him boring. Well, they could fucking have each other. “Why are you still here?”

  She stood. “Bite me, you insufferable, pompous ass.”

  …

  Aggie sank down on the tile in the hallway and gulped for oxygen. He hadn’t seen reason. Or given her a chance to explain about Mom. She fumbled through her purse until she found a wad of tissues. Tissues left over from the day she’d interviewed. She blew her nose.

  How could she have screwed up so royally twice in one weekend? How had they done at trivia night? Had they lost? Won? What must Mr. Smith think of her? Why didn’t Max let her explain?

  She blew her nose again. And how could he have been so nasty? So hateful?

  Bottom line: two people found her the bane of their existence. What were the odds Mom and Max would both use the same word to describe her? A word that meant a curse, a blight, a misery. A word that offered no room for returned love.

  Good thing she didn’t love him. Wouldn’t that be the melted icing on the flopped cake?

  Except. Nope. No excepts allowed. Excepts were for losers who turned to drugs to forget.

  She’d be damned if she let herself turn out like Mom. Fucking wasn’t happening.

  Pain drew her gaze to her hands. Her nails had brought blood to her palms. She relaxed her grip and did several deep belly breaths. Max had every right to be furious and unforgiving.

  She wouldn’t plead for forgiveness, she didn’t deserve that, but maybe she could fix her bid mistake before she disappeared from his life. She’d go pick the packet up and take it directly to O’Reilly’s today. Beg them to accept it late. Explain what happened. Beg them not to punish Max for her mistake.

  If needed, she’d tell them about her search for Mom and how that played into her dropping the ball on the project. Yes. That’s what she’d do.

  Then, she’d get the hell out of K.C.

  New York City, I’m coming.

  She waited for an adrenaline rush. She always got an adrenaline rush when venturing into a new job or dating a new guy or buying a new pair of heels. Nothing happened. Unless she counted the gush of sadness leaking from her eyeballs.

  Fuck. She’d fallen in love first. With a guy who hated her to eternity.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Meemaw stood at the kitchen sink and scowled.

  Aggie squirmed where she sat at the kitchen table with her knees drawn up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. She wasn’t used to Meemaw being hopping mad at her. “Meemaw, please don’t be annoyed. I hate when you are.”

  “Do you think I want to be? You’re better than this. I can’t believe you lost another job. It’s not like they grow on trees.”

  Knowing she’d let Meemaw down pierced her heart. “I didn’t mean to lose this one. I really didn’t. And it was almost over anyway. Plus, he’s going to pay me for the last two weeks. We have a contract saying he has to.”

  “He sure as heck is not paying you for the last two weeks,” Meemaw snapped. “Johanssons don’t take money they didn’t earn.” Meemaw rubbed her neck. The bags under her eyes told Aggie she hadn’t been sleeping much, either.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her contrite tone didn’t lessen the fervor in Meemaw’s glare. If anything, it seemed to make her madder. “You’re like your mom when it comes to quitting. Darlene quit school when I wouldn’t let her go on a boy-girl trip. She quit me when I told her to give you up for adoption. She quit you when a guy came around who didn’t want you.” She picked up the dishrag laying over the faucet, wetted it, and walked to the kitchen table and wiped its already clean surface.

  “You told Mom to give me up for adoption?” Why had she never heard about this?

  Meemaw walked back to the sink and rinsed out the rag. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.
I first begged her to give you to me to raise.”

  “How is that better?”

  Meemaw turned and leaned against the sink. “Honey, Darlene wasn’t fit to raise you. After your father dumped her when she told him she was pregnant, she was never the same. She got it in her head that all of the female Johanssons were cursed, that you were cursed, and it was her fault you’d face what we’d faced with our hearts. She took to drugs to forget her pain.”

  “Mom knew my father? He wasn’t some John she turned a trick for?”

  “Where in tarnation did you get that idea? Never mind. I don’t want to hear it right now. That’ll just get me off track of what needs saying.”

  “Tell me what needs to be said.”

  Meemaw pointed a finger at Aggie. “I can’t believe you’ve turned into a quitter. I tried so hard to teach you follow through. When you wanted to play on the boy’s football team, I went to the school and forced them to say you could. Then, when you wanted to quit, I wouldn’t let you. When you failed your driving test the first time and wanted to never do it again, I sent you back the next day to try again. When you didn’t get into the first college of your choice, you wanted to quit. Not go. I wouldn’t let you do that. And now, you’ve lost every job you’ve ever had. Why? What did I do wrong that turned you out a quitter? And don’t say it’s because of some damn curse. I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

  Aggie lowered her feet to the ground and wiped at the tears streaming down her face. “Meemaw, I love you,” she said passionately. “You did nothing wrong. My failures are not on you.”

  “Then why?” Meemaw wiped at her own tears. “Why are you a quitter?”

  Aggie searched for the right words to make Meemaw understand. “I’m not a quitter because things are too hard. I’m a thoughtful quitter.” The moment she said them, she knew she’d chosen the wrong ones.

  Meemaw threw her hands in the air. “Well, as long as you have given it some thought, then I guess it’s now okay to be a quitter.”

  Aggie’s chin jerked up. It wasn’t like Meemaw to be sarcastic. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “It’s what you said.”

  “I quit my jobs because they don’t fulfill me.”

  Meemaw laughed. “Do you think cleaning offices overnight fulfills me? Cleaning the toilets of the rich fulfills me?”

  Aggie stood, walked to her, grabbed Meemaw’s hands and, when she went to pull away, held them tight. “Not in this lifetime. And that’s why I leave. I’ve spent my life watching you work jobs you don’t like, but you do them because you had me to raise, and a sure dollar was better than a maybe dollar.”

  “You’re not making a lick of sense.”

  “I want to do better in life. I want for the next generation of Johanssons to have nothing to hang their heads about. I want them to come from a family name no one turns their nose up at. And I want them to know they deserve happiness.”

  “Am I supposed to understand what you’re saying amid all that pretty talk? Because I don’t.”

  Aggie let go of her hands and leaned against the sink with her. Shoulder to shoulder. “I need to believe there’s something greater than a nine-to-five crap job. That there’s more meant for me and you. That our lives have real meaning.”

  “Our lives have plenty of meaning. We have love, and that’s enough.”

  “It’s not enough. The world is ugly. I feel ugly because Mom threw me away. I quit my jobs because I’m tired of feeling ugly.”

  “You don’t lose a job because you feel ugly. What a bunch of poppycock.”

  Aggie turned toward her. “I want a job beautiful people have. One that fulfills me for thirty years and then sends me into retirement with a fat pension.”

  A washtub of tears slid down Meemaw’s cheeks. She pulled Aggie into a hug. “What have I done? While I’ve been hanging my head in shame my whole life because my parents thought me worthless, and Darlene’s father thought her worthless, I’ve turned around and taught you to do the same. I am so sorry you’ve ever felt ugly. You’re beautiful and perfect.”

  Aggie shook her head against Meemaw’s neck. “None of this is your fault.”

  “Don’t be a ninny. If I say it’s my fault, it’s my fault.” Meemaw pulled away and wiped at the tears. “The last time I felt this ashamed of myself was that moment when Darlene’s father told me I was dumber than dirt.”

  Aggie hated the man who’d done so much damage to Meemaw’s self-esteem. “Someday I’ll be able to take care of you. To prove to you, you did a great job raising me.”

  Meemaw glanced out the window. So did Aggie. The eyesore view of the railroad tracks stared back at her. They were a constant reminder to the Johansson women of their station in life.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was thirteen,” Meemaw said. “Don’t need no help now.”

  A knot formed in Aggie’s throat. She put an arm around Meemaw’s shoulders. “I know that. You’re the smartest, kindest, strongest woman I know. But someday, I want to be in a position where I can whisk you away from your job and let you live with me, where you’re free to only do those things you like. Let someone take care of you for a change. God knows you deserve a happy retirement free of financial worry.”

  As if suddenly too tired to stand, Meemaw moved away and sat down at the table. “I thought you enjoyed working for Max. That was a beautiful person job. Why did you get yourself canned?”

  Aggie hopped up on the counter. It was time she told Meemaw everything. “I’ve been searching for Mom. Until I met Max, I had had no luck. But then I hit it off with one of his clients who happened to have a detective on retainer. He loaned me his detective. That guy found Mom.”

  “You found her?” Meemaw’s eyes were wide and filled with a look of horror.

  “I went to see her Saturday night. Mom called and asked to see me. I dropped everything, because she said she only had until five and then she’d be gone.”

  Meemaw exhaled a shuddering breath. “Oh honey. I wish you would have told me your plans.”

  “Mom’s a drug addict. The only reason she wanted to meet with me was to get money out of me.”

  Meemaw stood and walked to Aggie and grabbed her hands. “Honey, that’s the drugs talking. I’m sure when she’s clean, she really wants to meet you.”

  Aggie shook her head. “She couldn’t remember my name. And she told me my dad was a guy who paid her twenty-five dollars to have sex without a condom.”

  “Did you tell Max all of this?”

  “I tried. He didn’t want to hear my reasons. He called them excuses.”

  “Because you ditched him for another man. He knows you left town with the new boyfriend in your life?”

  “I don’t have a new boyfriend. I was with Bill.”

  Meemaw squeezed Aggie’s hands. “You should go to Max. Make him listen. If he’s still of a mind to fire you after that, then that’s on him.”

  “Trust me. He won’t change his mind. He called me a fuckup. Said he should never have hired me. Called me the bane of his existence. Mom also called me the bane of her existence. That can’t be a coincidence. There must be something inherently bad about me.”

  “Next time I see him, I’ll give him a good piece of my mind. How dare he call you a fuckup? No one calls my granddaughter a fuckup and gets away with it all in one piece.”

  A small smile lifted Aggie’s lips. There was the Meemaw she knew. The one who always had her back. “Don’t be mad at him. I am a fuckup. I’ve been a fuckup. But I’m going to change all of that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Remember my roommate my freshman year in college?”

  “From Brooklyn? Theater major?”

  “That’s the one. She’s said I can come and sleep on her couch while I search for a job. I’m going to move to New York City. As soon as I get a
place, I want you to come and live with me. You’ll have fun living there in your golden years. You can go to Broadway shows. People watch. Join clubs. Tell me you’ll come as soon as I have my own place.”

  Meemaw walked back to the table and took a seat. “Honey, I can’t give you that promise. I like it here. Please talk to Max before you make plans that can’t change.”

  “I can’t do that. He sees me as an unredeemable loser.”

  “Poppycock.”

  “He’s partially right. I am a loser. But I’m not unredeemable. I’m purposefully choosing a fresh start at getting life right. At proving I’m redeemable. If you don’t want to go, I’ll send money each month to help you with your bills. I’ve been saving, and I have enough to cover at least two months.”

  “You’re such a sweet child. But I don’t want your money. I just want you to be happy.”

  Aggie popped off the counter. “I’m working on happy. I promise you I won’t quit until I claim it.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The sound of persistent knocking roused Max from his stupor. Grumbling at the interruption, he stumbled to the front door and opened it without glancing through the peephole to see who was there. Probably a neighbor, since the doorman hadn’t buzzed first.

  It wasn’t a neighbor. It was the last person he wanted to see. Well, not the last person, but one of the last. His father. A man who’d only bothered to visit him once since he’d moved into the condo, and only then because Grandmother dragged him with her on a visit. Damn it. Was he here to gloat because Max was on the verge of losing the bet?

  “Like what you’ve done with the place.” He swept pass Max. “See you finally hired a real decorator.” As always, his voice held a tone of arrogance, in case his words weren’t suitably obnoxious.

  He didn’t wait to be ushered to the living room. Instead, he strode past Max and into the kitchen, where he poured himself a drink from a bottle of whiskey that had already had the neck and shoulders taken off it.

  “A little early, isn’t it?” Max asked and glanced at the clock. Noon. Which day he couldn’t say for sure. But noon.