I Am Moore

by Celeste Granger

  What the hell. Emery thought.

  “Just tell me, Kennedy.”

  “I won’t have to once you turn on your computer.” Kennedy hated that she was being so coy about the matter. Hearing was one thing. Seeing was believing.

  “Fine,” Emery scoffed. “It’s on. Want me to google something?”

  “Yeah,” Kennedy replied. “Evan Stanton.”

  “What? Why would I need to google Evan?”

  When Kennedy didn’t respond, Emery popped her lips. This is ridiculu-“

  The thought stopped as the google search populated. Emery’s eyes enlarged as pictures filled the screen. What she expected to see, Evan’s bio, business-related matters, wasn’t what she saw. Emery’s eyes scanned the screen, clocking dates, times sources. There were several, one after the other of Evan kissing some woman. The dates…

  “I knew if I just told you, you might blow it off,” Kennedy offered. “So sorry, Em.”

  Emery was at a loss for words. She didn’t respond to her sister. She couldn’t. Emery was mesmerized and perplexed about what she saw on the screen. Emery ended the call with Kennedy without saying another word. Kennedy understood. She didn’t feel disrespected like Emery hung up on her. She knew her sister better than that. It was okay. She would call Em later to check on her. Maybe Emery would want to talk, maybe not. But whatever her sister needed, Kennedy would be there for her. And if Emery wanted to kick Evan’s ass? Ken was there for that, too.

  Emery slowly sat back in her chair, but her eyes never left the screen. The old Emery, the one that doubted love, the one that doubted Evan could be a one-woman man sat squarely in her lap. Emery couldn’t fight her off. The pictures didn’t lie.

  It took Emery a minute to process what she saw. Her mind reeled with multitudes of thoughts that crossed over each other and tangled up; rendering her almost emotionless. So, she sat there.

  Emery stood up.

  Her eyes fell to the yellow roses on the end of her desk and then to the computer screen. Setting her jaw, Emery reached down and grabbed her purse. Walking around the outside of her desk, she paused at the crystal vase that held the yellow ‘apology’ roses. With a swift, careless swipe, the vase and the flowers crashed to the floor. The petals and shards of broken glass that lay in her path, Emery stepped over without a second thought.

  Malcolm looked up when Emery’s office door opened.”

  “Clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a wrinkled brow. “Will you be working from home?”

  “Probably not,” Emery said, scarcely looking in Malcolm’s direction.

  “Oh, and there’s a bit of a mess in there. Have maintenance clean it up.”

  Emery didn’t wait for a question or a reply. Heading toward the elevator, Emery kept her eyes fixed and forward and her teeth clenching. Any wavering from her posture could result in an explosion of emotions. Emery refused to succumb to that.

  “Good morning Ms. Moore,” Evan’s secretary, Rachel, said as she saw Emery approaching. “Should I announce you?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Emery replied. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Do you need some help,” Rachel asked, scooting her chair back.

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  Rachel smiled as Ms. Moore passed her desk. Emery’s steps didn’t falter as she pushed open Evan’s door without knocking. When she saw him, Emery’s heart thumped loudly and every emotion she had been trying to press down started to rise up, nearly choking her. She refused to allow Evan to see her break. Her steps were firm and definitive. He could see from behind his desk that something was wrong.

  The stack of tabloid magazines she held in her hand, Emery slammed in the center of his desk. The front page of each one showed the picture of he and the woman entangled in a heated kiss. The headlines blared about Evan rekindling with an old flame; his hot new romance. Emery seethed as she picked up the top copy and turned it towards Evan, ensuring he couldn’t avoid looking at it.

  Evan dropped his eyes. Pushing his chair back, Evan stood up and turned the corner of his desk standing close to her.

  The paper in Emery’s hand shook from the fury that festered just beneath the surface. Her eyes bore into him as she pushed the newspaper into his chest.

  “Emery, I can ex”

  Evan tasted his words as he felt the sting of her open hand across his cheek. Emery’s lip trembled, but she clenched her jaw even tighter; fighting back the tears that threatened to show themselves in Evan’s presence. She wouldn’t have that. Evan might mistake tears for Emery being hurt. That satisfaction she refused to allow him.

  Evan’s hand went to his cheek as it still stung from the intensity of the slap.

  “Please, Emery, let me explain,” he said as he reached out for her. When she drew back from him, Evan’s eyes found hers. He could see the pain, doubt, and the anger. If he was saying anything, Emery refused to hear it. She held his gaze as she walked backward a few more steps then turned on her heels and headed for the door. Evan went after her and reached for her again, catching Emery by the arm.

  She whipped around.

  “Don’t,” Emery demanded; snatching her arm from his clutches. Emery reached for the handle and pulled the door open. She crossed the threshold without looking back. Evan called to her again, but Emery never broke her stride. Rachel looked up. Her eyes trailed from Ms. Moore to Mr. Stanton and back to Ms. Moore again.

  All Emery could think was, get to the car. Get to the car. The click of her heels echoed hollowly through the hall. Emery started to break; a powerful rush of emotion trying to overtake her. The light pouring through the exit door glimmered against the tears that balanced on her lids.

  Chapter Twelve

  Three days later

  The phone rang repeatedly. Emery didn’t answer it. Calls came from the office, her family, Evan… Emery didn’t answer. She didn’t have the strength. The most she mustered over the past few days was crawling into bed and hiding from the world. There were knocks at the door. The doorbell rang. Emery didn’t respond. Kennedy tried to use her key but couldn’t get past the second latch on the doors. Kennedy wanted to check on her sister, to make sure Emery was okay. Yet, she understood her sisters need for isolation and didn’t press. What Kennedy did do, in addition to fielding phone calls from her parents and her sisters, was make sure her sister ate. Kennedy left groceries and some pre-made meals hoping Emery would get them. The last time she was at the house, the grocery bags were still there. That was not a good sign.

  Emery’s heart was broken and the internal chastisement for being foolish enough to trust another man pummeled her, reducing Emery to a heap of tears. Now, Emery was engulfed in an endless sea of hurt and sadness. She had steeled her heart against this very thing. Yet, Evan was able to penetrate that barrier and make her believe again that real love, unconditional love was possible. And she let him in. Despite her doubts and fears, brick by brick Evan broke through the wall Emery had around her heart. And for what? Just the thought of it made Emery cry, even though she didn’t feel like there were any tears left. With the curtains drawn tight, Emery pulled the cover further over her head and let the tears fall. She couldn’t help it.

  Evan was going through the motions, but his heart wasn’t in it. Everything he tried to reach Emery failed. She wouldn’t take his calls, respond to his text messages. When that didn’t work, Evan went to her house. He knocked on the door, rang the doorbell, but nothing. His work suffered. Evan had a tough time focusing when his mind was someplace else. One night, the pain of what he’d done weighed so heavily on him, Evan couldn’t resist going back to Emery’ house. He didn’t bother trying to get her attention. He knew that wouldn’t work. But he did want to be close to her. To somehow preserve the connection, he still felt in his heart for her. So, he sat in his car, outside of her house, occasionally looking up at her bedroom window; hoping against hope that maybe she would look out and see his car; see him waiti
ng for her. But, nothing.

  Sitting in his office, Evan stared blankly at the stack of files on his desk. He was so entrenched in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear Winston come into his office.

  “Do we need to take it back to the court man,” Winston asked, sitting in the chair across from Evan.

  “Hooping ain’t gone fix this one,” Evan replied.

  “Listen, don’t worry about the stuff here at work. I’ll take care of that. You got to get your girl back.”

  Evan looked up. Winston had never been one to go to bat for any of the women Evan dated in the past.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I said it,” Winston rebuffed. Winston braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “You’ve never been like this about any woman, ever,” Winston began. “And you know I know you. I’ve been your front man from high school, all the frat parties, the whole nine. But none of the girls you dated in the past had this kind of effect on you.”

  “I love her man,” Evan agreed. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel so deeply for someone. It’s like, I thought I was whole; dream job, more money than I could spend, my folks was good, working with my best friend, any woman I wanted. I thought I was living, man. But when Emery came into my life I realized she made me whole.” Evan paused before continuing. “I can’t live without her, Winston.”

  Winston leaned over and picked up a frame from the corner of Evan’s desk. It was a fairly new edition.

  “I know you love her,” Winston began, turning the picture around in his hand. It was a picture of Emery. It didn’t look like a professional shot; posed and unauthentic. In the picture she was laughing.

  “I took that one night when we were just chilling at the house. It's funny cause I took it with my cell phone. We were watching an old movie, one of her favorites where she knows all the lines but laughs anyway. Emery got so tickled. She was laughing as she said the lines with the movie. I was teasing her for being so corny. That made her laugh any harder. She was focused on the television. But I stopped and looked at her. I mean really just took her all in. And that’s when I knew. She didn’t have any makeup on. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. All she had on was an oversized tee shirt and some pajama pants, nothing special, nothing fancy. Winston, man, she was so beautiful to me. Not just physically beautiful, but she radiated such inner beauty. I had to try and capture that moment. I reached over and picked up my phone and took that shot. It’s my favorite one of her.”

  Winston handed the picture to Evan. Seeing Emery so carefree and full of life, made him miss her even more.

  “Like I said, go getcha girl. I got this.”

  Winston stood up with Evan. They dabbed each other as brothers. Evan wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was willing to do whatever was necessary to win back Emery’s heart.

  “How do you know she’s okay? Do we need to call the police? Has anyone talked to her?”

  Kennedy was patient with her mother. She understood the panic in her voice. Kennedy also understood that Emery’s silence was especially hard for Felicia because she and Emery hadn’t seen eye to eye since Samantha was introduced to the family.

  “Kennedy! Are you listening to me?” Felicia’s nerves were frayed.

  “Yes, mom, I’m listening.” Kennedy was equally as frustrated, but right now, this was all about Felicia.

  “You know it’s bad when she won’t answer her father’s calls and he has called her more than once and nothing, Kennedy. Nothing! If somebody don’t go see about Emery and make sure she’s okay, I am calling the police! I mean it!”

  “I’m gonna handle it mom, okay?” Kennedy replied, doing her best to be reassuring.

  “Please do, Kennedy,” Felicia pleaded. “I just want to know she’s okay.”

  As soon as the call ended with her mother, Kennedy got on the horn to rally the Moore girls.

  Evan was lasered focused. Although Winston said he could handle everything, Evan refused to leave him in a lurch. Evan trusted Winston completely. He would handle a few things to make sure Winston was in the best possible position and then he would turn his full attention to winning Emery back. Evan had no idea how to go about it, but he would figure it out. One thing he knew for sure, he would not go down without a fight.

  “Mr. Stanton, you eleven o’clock is here.”

  “Thanks, Rachel. Send them in.”

  Evan had been discombobulated over the past few days. He didn’t remember having an appointment today, but Rachel kept his calendar sharp like a precision instrument. Repositioning Emery’s picture on his desk, Evan cleared away the files he’d been working on. If she said he had an appointment, Evan had an appointment. Evan had always been good on his feet. Whoever the client was, he would handle it.

  When the door to his office opened, in walked Tristan Summers. Evan smirked as Tristan strode over to the desk. Standing up, Evan met him, and the two gentlemen shook hands.

  “Have a seat, Tristan,” Evan replied, rounding his desk and returning to his seat. “What brings you by?”

  “Well, as you know, we have adjudication coming up within the next couple of weeks,” Tristan began, crossing his ankle over his knee as he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

  Evan leaned back in his seat sizing Tristan up. If Tristan was here, there was an angle he was trying to play.

  “I’m listening,” Evan replied.

  “There’s a lot of money being tossed around at a cost to your client if we go to trial and your side loses, and vice versa. If your side wins, then the cost is to my client.”

  Evan was distracted. Tristan watched Evan as his eyes trailed to a picture sitting on his desk. Most of the time, Evan was quick-witted, sharp, going round for round and jab for jab with Tristan. Today, though, his reactions were slower, less enthusiastic. Evan felt Tristan’s eyes on him and focused his attention back to the conversation.

  “That’s generally how litigation works, Tristan,” Evan replied. “I’m sure we don’t need to discuss the basics of putting on a trial, do we?”

  “Now Tristan was the one smirking. Tristan respected Evan. They were both Black men fighting in a predominantly White man’s world. They both had made names for themselves and were successful in their own right. They were both vying for the same piece of the pie, though; fighting to be respected, fighting against the establishment. Quite naturally, though, Tristan saw Evan as the competition.

  “That won’t be necessary, counselor,” Tristan continued; again, watching Evan eying the picture on his desk. Tristan decided to change his physical position; stand instead of sitting, pulling a power move.

  “What I’m proposing, counselor, is that we come to a compromise without having to go through the hardship of a trial. Although there are those who might find your client's whistleblowing admirable, others see him as a snitch. Playing all that out for the world to see would prove difficult for your client. Don’t you agree?”

  Tristan walked toward the office window, peering out onto the bustling street outside. Turning, he balanced himself against the ledge and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Evan’s reply.

  Evan was slow to respond at all. He didn’t appreciate Tristan taking such liberties in his office. But Evan wasn’t vested enough to bring it to Tristan’s attention. Evan knew what Tristan was trying to do.

  “The only way my client would consider any kind of deal prior to trial would be if the amount we are suing the company for is doubled; paid out immediately with no stipulations and the client get to retain all benefits; including health, retirement, 401k, hell, even his college fund.”

  Evan methodically pivoted in his chair, turning his full attention to his opponent. He needed Tristan to know that he was serious. Reinforcing his position, even though he remained seated, Evan balanced his elbow on the armrest of his chair and, placed his index finger alongside his face.

  Your move, Evan thought as he watched Tristan mulling his proposition over. A slight smile eased across Evan’s l
ips. Tristan would have loved to be able to blow Evan’s proposition off. But, Tristan was no fool. He knew Evan was a beast in the courtroom and had the advantage of a human-interest story; the little guy going up against the corporate giant. Tristan lifted from the window ledge, making his way back to the chair. As he moved, Tristan’s eyes were drawn to the picture. His eyes narrowed as he got closer and then widened with recognition. Folding his lips in and then releasing them, Tristan stopped at the desk, keeping his eyes on the photo. Evan moved with him, appraising Tristan’s response.

  “Emery,” Tristan sighed. Evan bristled. “I remember that smile,” Tristan reflected. “That’s you, huh?”

  Evan’s jaw vibrated as he gritted his teeth. “Mmhmm,” was all Evan was willing to say.

  Evan’s jaw cinched as Tristan reached out to touch the frame.

  “My proposal,” Evan spoke, loudly enough to demand Tristan’s full attention, but still coolly enough to appear unbothered by Tristan’s antics. As he should, Tristan drew his hand back, just short of making contact with Emery’s photo. The smirk that sat on his lips remained as he reclaimed the seat in front of Evan’s desk.

  The two stared at each other; each thinking their own thoughts without trying to tip the other off as to what was really on their mind. It would be easy to toy with Evan, get him off his game by commenting on Emery. Yet, Tristan didn’t get the sense Evan would keep it civil. There was something in Evan’s eyes that looked like he was waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

  “A flat $15 million. No admission of guilt and a gag order,” Tristan finally countered.

  “Tuh,” Evan replied, as he sat up and placed his elbows on his desk. “25 million, after your client pays the taxes. Full admission of guilt by your client, and the gag order is for your client. If they utter one derogatory word regarding my client, then we will levy defamation that will make $25 million look like pocket change.”