Random Encounter

by Allyson Lindt

  My messenger pinged with a new note. Right, I should be working.

  Give me a call when you have a minute, Judith typed.

  I picked up the desk phone. No reason to keep the boss waiting if I could avoid it, especially since I needed her to see I was the right guy for the job I wanted.

  “Getting awfully used to that office, aren’t you?” She answered.

  The different extension would show on her phone, the way hers did on mine. “The office that should be mine? Yes.”

  The noise she made was as much huff as laugh. “No. Especially not right at this moment.”

  “Oh?” I couldn’t find a better response that would still hide my irritation.

  “Your friend Mr. Toph, has sent a follow-up response to his Cease and Desist. He’s informed me he’ll drop the matter, and not take things public, if we hire him.”

  I snorted with disbelief. Was he fucking kidding? “Does he think this is some weak Hollywood movie?”

  “I’d rather not speculate about what or how he thinks,” Judith said. “I’d rather we had a way to shut him down instantly.”

  “You and me both. I thought we sicced Legal on him?” Obviously it wasn’t enough. “Give me some time to think about it, and I’ll get you an answer,” I said. While I wasn’t the one causing the problem, it was happening here, to this company, because I was the person he knew. I’d come up with a solution.

  Judith was silent so long I almost asked if she was still there. “You have until end of day Monday,” she said.

  “Got it. I’ll have something for you.” I had no idea what, but this gave me the entire weekend and then some to let the thought simmer.

  My messenger popped again, this time with a note from Phillip.

  In fact, I could spend the next couple of days stewing on the odds of two people I trusted so completely betraying me. I closed Phillip’s message without reading it.

  Was I being childish? It was possible. Did I care?

  Not anymore than Phillip did when he decided he needed to hide the fact that he was leaving. Not anymore than Nolan did when he manipulated me and stole my work.

  But that was the problem—I did care, and I didn’t like how much it hurt.

  I managed to avoid contact with Phillip the rest of the day. Not a practical thing going forward, especially if I wanted to be the boss, but he wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter.

  Daria invited me to dinner that night at Buck E. Cheese. Which meant she wanted to apologize to the girls for the last-minute business travel, and she wanted a second set of eyes there to help watch them.

  I was fine with that, but surprised with the location. “I thought Alana was too old for Buck E. Cheese.”

  “It was her request,” Daria said. “She told me she had to enjoy it before she was old and gross.”

  That sounded right.

  We picked a table with a clear view of both the ball pit and the arcade, depending on which direction one was facing. The rule was, the girls had to eat at least one slice of pizza before they played games.

  Harmony ran off to jump in the pit, and I handed Alana a twenty for tokens. Daria raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

  “Who’s Addie?” Daria asked when the girls were both out of hearing range.

  The question tugged at so much more confusion than Daria probably meant it to. “New woman at work,” I said, my attention focused on Alana wandering between video game machines. Was I a proud uncle when she stopped at the Star Wars game? Damn straight.

  “Uh huh.” Daria didn’t sound convinced. “Alana told me that if Joe and I both had to work during her next swim meet, it was okay. Adrienne would take her.”

  I glanced at Daria, one eyebrow raised, before turning my attention back to the arcade. “Wonder where she got that from.”

  “I have this tiny nagging fear that never goes away.” Uncertainty slipped into Daria’s voice. “That whoever Joe’s new girlfriend is, they’ll like her better than me. It’s silly, I know. But the fear is there. I didn’t expect them to replace me with your girlfriend.” Her laugh landed flat.

  “She’s not...” The denial died in my throat.

  “Mommy, Uncle Dustin, watch.” Harmony’s shout carried above all the other screaming kids.

  I turned to see her hop into one of the larger slides and squeal as she flew into the pit of colorful balls. Daria and I both cheered, and Harmony looked satisfied.

  “Does Phillip know?” Daria asked.

  Not who I wanted to be discussing. “Know… Adrienne?” Intimately. “She works with us. With me. He’s leaving.” My bitterness leaked into the words.

  Alana skipped back to me and held out her hand. “Can I have money for skeeball?”

  “What happened to the other money he gave you?” Daria asked.

  Alana shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at her shoes. “I spent it on Star Wars.”

  “You spent a couple bucks on Star Wars. You pocketed the rest.” I’d taken my eyes off her for a minute or two, but not twenty-bucks-in-quarters minutes.

  Alana scowled.

  “Stop trying to fleece Dustin, and apologize for lying,” Daria said.

  I stared at Alana expectantly.

  She huffed. “I didn’t—”

  I raised my brows.

  She slouched. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t do it again. Go play.” I waved her off. Best she learn the lesson now, and not when she was old and gross.

  “So, you and Phillip…” Daria trailed off. “I just...”

  So much for avoiding that topic. “Might as well finish the thought.”

  “I keep wondering when the two of you are going to figure out how good you are together, and stop pretending you’re just friends.”

  The words slammed into me harder than was fair, and I didn’t care for the knot they left in my chest. “We’re not even that.”

  “Okay. Sure.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Listen, I know I give you a lot of shit about, well, everything. I mean, you’re my big brother, I’m supposed to. But there’s no one I trust more with the girls.”

  “I— Where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know. It just felt like you needed to hear it.”

  “Thanks.” Rather than helping me add some order to my thoughts, they were in more of a jumble now than ever.

  Twenty-Four

  Phillip

  Saturday morning came and went without a friendly call from Dustin, asking if I wanted to get brunch. Not that we did so every weekend, but today there was no mistaking the reason for the non-existent call. Especially after he ignored all my attempts to talk to him yesterday.

  This was exactly what I thought would happen. Dustin found out I was leaving and now he wasn’t speaking to me. I understood how passionate he was about AcesPlayed—how much the game and the company meant to him—but the vision didn’t hold the same meaning to me.

  How was I supposed to explain that to him, though? How I was I supposed to make him see it wasn’t about him or disagreeing with his decisions, it was simply time for me to move on. There hadn’t been a way to avoid this.

  Except being honest with Dustin. Not deciding to cut him and Adrienne out of my life.

  I didn’t like the nagging, insistent voice in my head. It was a little late to find stupid reasons to try to make myself feel guilty. This was the choice I needed to make.

  Because I’m terrified.

  Nope. Wasn’t indulging those thoughts. The opportunity in front of me was incredible and thinking about it—about teaching new people and helping them grow—didn’t fill me with anything but excitement and anticipation.

  There was no fear or dread associated with the idea.

  I gathered my clothes from the hamper to do laundry for the week, and something tumbled from the pile. The instant I saw the folded rectangle, a stone landed in my gut. It was Harmony’s drawing. You and Uncle Dustin getting married.

  Fuck. The memory gnawe
d at me.

  I couldn’t throw the drawing out, but I couldn’t look at it either. I set it on my nightstand, and hauled my clothes down to the washer.

  When I returned to my bedroom, the folded drawing glared at me, far brighter than it should be, and sent fissures of restlessness through me. My fingers itched toward my back pocket, where my phone was. I wanted to call Dustin. Adrienne.

  How did she become a part of my life so quickly? I didn’t have an urge to call Brandon, or anyone else from work, but Adrienne hovered at the front of my thoughts, along with Dustin.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed Scarlet instead. She was my contact about the teaching position at the university. She wouldn’t do the hiring or make any of those decisions, but she had put me in touch with the Dean and kept me apprised of anything I needed to know while I put my plan in motion.

  “Morning,” she answered quickly, and the smile in her voice was obvious. “You call to volunteer for another drawing class?”

  That seemed like a lifetime ago. Had it really been less than two weeks? “Probably not a good idea.”

  “No? I got a lot of good feedback from the students. I didn’t mind the view either.”

  The light teasing should put me at ease. “It might be harder for them to take a professor seriously if they keep seeing me naked.”

  “Hmm… Fair point.”

  “Speaking of”—might as well get to my real reason for calling since we were on the topic—“you said when I have a date for leaving, you’d talk to the Dean about next steps. Let’s set it up.”

  She let out a long hiss. “About that…” The cheer faded from her voice.

  Not a great sign. “What’s up?”

  “I’m hearing rumors, and if I’ve heard them, others will too. I don’t think you should pursue this job until you clear things up in your current one.”

  There were problems in my current job? Besides Dustin being pissed off at me? “Clear what things up?”

  “These days we lean heavily into how to avoid copyright infringement and plagiarism claims. We have to. If you’re a part of something like that, if you’re working for a company who’s been accused of that, even if it’s not your fault, it’s not going to reflect well on you.”

  Fuck. Dustin was supposed to take care of that. Not that I blamed him—the accusations weren’t his and I didn’t think for a moment he’d done what he was accused of. But if this kept me out of a job— What? “If it hasn’t gone away yet, I know it’s in the process. But expect to hear back from me when I confirm.”

  “Totally. I’m here when you’ve got proof that it’s not an issue. Talk to you then,” Scarlet said.

  Proof wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d have to talk to Dustin to get details. I’d burned that bridge.

  The thought—the phrase—hit me harder than Scarlet telling me I may not be able to teach. It was a punch in the gut to admit Dustin may never speak to me again.

  My gaze landed on Harmony’s drawing once more, and I unfolded it, tension cranking through me. I smoothed the paper flat. You and Uncle Dustin getting married. I couldn’t ignore the knot in my chest. This was what I wanted to avoid.

  A reality that hit me harder than any others. This raw pain of loss. It wasn’t as painful as it could be, the agony wasn’t as bad as if I’d let things go on longer with Dustin, with Adrienne.

  It was a good thing I was severing ties.

  So why was part of me screaming to not walk away?

  Because it hurt. That was the only reason.

  My phone rang and I clicked Answer without pause. It was probably Scarlet. “Hey.”

  “Phillip?” Adrienne’s voice was tiny.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I mean no, but yeah. I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “I couldn’t get a hold of anyone else.”

  All my other thoughts vanished behind concern. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

  “I keep swearing I see Sean out in the parking lot, and I know he’s not, that I’m being paranoid, but… God, this sounds stupid.”

  Not after what Sean had already done to her. “Not at all. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No. Yes. Please?”

  “I’ll be right there,” I assured her.

  Twenty-Five

  Adrienne

  I managed to avoid sleeping in my own apartment most nights this week, and when I was here, nothing bad happened. The stress at work yesterday must have carried over into my paranoia, though, because all night long I woke up at every little sound. Morning wasn’t much better. I went out for coffee, breakfast, and groceries, but then I had to come home to put it all away.

  The note slipped under my door was scrawled on the in Sean’s familiar handwriting on the back of half a utility bill, and said Does your ‘boyfriend’ know how many places you sleep that aren’t here?

  Oh, God. Bile rose in my throat and I almost emptied the contents of my stomach right there.

  By the time afternoon rolled around, I was jumping at everything. I couldn’t get a hold of Graham. Or Luna. Or Cole. Dustin was with his nieces. Why didn’t I have more friends?

  For the same reason I couldn’t sit still now—my ex-husband was an asshole.

  I was probably being dumb, but I didn’t want to be alone.

  There were dozens of other numbers in my phone, but most were people I’d alienated long ago. Phillip, though… He’d said he didn’t mind if I bothered him with things like this. I liked thinking about him anyway, but having him here to protect me was too tempting. Still, I was surprised that he said he’d come over—not because he’d ever given me any reason to do anything other than enjoy his company and drool over him, but he was more removed than Dustin, and probably wouldn’t be around much longer.

  I understood why Dustin was mad at him, but I didn’t know Phillip well enough to feel that same sense of betrayal. And he was a million times better than Sean.

  A text came through a short while after I called Phillip, saying he was here and heading up. Which made the knock a moment later more reassuring than startling. I checked the camera and peephole anyway, making sure they agreed with each other that it was Phillip on my landing.

  I let him in with a grateful smile and locked the door behind him. “Thank you. Again. I just... I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend.”

  “Don’t apologize. I meant it when I said you could call anytime. For anything, but especially this.”

  “For now.”

  “Don’t you start, please.”

  “I’m not starting anything,” I said. “I’m clarifying. You’re leaving soon, right? You don’t need some random woman you knew for less than a month calling you once you’re gone.” I felt bad enough bothering him today, regardless of his assurances, I wasn’t calling him when we didn’t work together anymore.

  A shadow passed over Phillip’s face, then vanished behind a kind but otherwise blank mask again. “I meant anytime.”

  Sure.

  This was awkward. How was it things had never been super uncomfortable with him until now? I gestured to the couch. “Do you want to sit? Something to drink? I have water and coffee.”

  “I shouldn’t have more coffee today.” He did take a seat, though.

  I took the spot next to him—there wasn’t really anywhere else to settle in the room. What now? I wanted to tell him not to quit his job, though I didn’t have a good reason for it beyond I like working with you. No, that wasn’t true. I liked him. I didn’t want him gone. I also wanted him to make things right with Dustin.

  None of those things were my place to say. “Don’t quit. I like having you there. So does Dustin, that’s why he’s upset. Tell him you’re sorry, and stay. I probably don’t have any right to ask, but I’m doing it anyway.”

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re fine to ask, but I can’t.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t try to hide my disappointment. “Why not? Why are you leaving? Are things bad at AcesPlayed? Do I need to be
worried there’s something going on I don’t see?”

  “That’s a lot of questions. There’s nothing bad at AcesPlayed that I’m aware of. A few assholes, but you’re all great at your jobs, and I expect will make this game into something epic.”

  I flushed that he included me in the statement, but he didn’t answer the question I most wanted him to. “So then why?”

  “It’s time for me to move on.”

  That wasn’t right. Not because I disliked the answer—though I did—but it felt off. “You were with the same people for almost two decades. I realize Cord, Rinslet, and AcesPlayed are different companies, but they’re the same people. You just woke up one day and decided I’m done?”

  Phillip leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “No, but also yes. I love the art, but I love teaching and mentoring just as much, if not more. My chances to do that have evaporated here.”

  You still have a lot to teach me. The words died in my throat. After Sean, I swore I’d never beg or demean myself or change to keep someone in my life. There it was, the one thing that kept me from blurting out the thoughts in my head. “I see.”

  Phillip straightened and looked at me, his brows furrowed. He sighed and flopped back in the couch. “You caught my attention that first night in the drawing class. The reason we had a sketch of you for the employee avatars was because I drew you after the modeling session was over.”

  How was I supposed to respond to that? Elation? Feeling flattered? His tone didn’t imply I should be either of those things… or really much of anything at all. So I settled for, “oh?”

  “You reminded me of my wife.”

  The dead one. That sounded cold, but what was I supposed to say? Did he see a ghost when he looked at me? “Oh.” Wow, I was witty this afternoon.

  “I know how that sounds. It’s not that I see her when I look at you, but your focus that night, the way you held yourself… But you’re not a replacement for a memory. I look at you, I see Adrienne. And I finally figured out, you remind me of her because like her, you see the world through your own, unique lens. It’s in your art, it’s in the things you say and do, and it’s at the core of who you are.”