Working With The Enemy

by Raquel Belle

  “Oh,” she pauses. “Well, you might not be stalking me in real life but you clearly are on Instagram.” She waves her phone in my face. “What’s with all these comments? No doubt you’re pulling the strings behind these ghost accounts.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grin and reach down to pet Pepper, who is getting impatient with the pause in our walk.

  “Don’t try to use that dog as an excuse to even avoid looking me in the face while you’re lying to me. This is pathetic!”

  “Excuse me?” Jeez, you’d think she’d be more cheerful. It’s a freaking Saturday.

  “It’s pathetic that you have to resort to these lame tricks to try to win. Shit! Why can’t you just admit that I’m better than you and give up already?”

  “That you’re better than me?” I raise an eyebrow. Someone’s ego has gotten out of check. “Look, the only rule Serena put down was no buying fake followers. Everything else is fair game in my eyes. It’s not my fault that I thought of this before you did.” Pepper gives a little yip to back me up. Good boy.

  “Setting up fake accounts to harass @LuxeOnLex might not technically be against the rules but it’s a shady move and you know it!”

  “Shadier than faking an entire Insta profile and life? You don’t look so luxurious today. What if I posted a picture of you with your doughnuts and sweatpants? What would @LuxeOnLex’s followers think then?”

  “That’s not the point! We were given a task to build a following and I’m doing exactly that — by any means necessary. And you think your account is ‘genuine’? Please! As if using a cute dog to get people’s attention isn’t any more manipulative than using a Lamborghini.”

  “Sure. Or some fancy shoes. Or your boobs.” I’m getting annoyed and Pepper is getting increasingly excited as he picks up on the angry energy between us. He’s started circling Sarah and me anxiously, yapping nervously every so often. “At least I show real parts of my real life. Yours is all a fraud.”

  “What do you think advertising is, Jake? What do you think social media is? How can you be so… so…” She can’t seem to think of the world she’s looking for.

  “What? Can’t get a full sentence out without your little teammate Amanda by your side?”

  “Leave Amanda out of this!” She steps closer to me and I can get a whiff of that familiar scent again, that long-lost memory of her perfume. “After you bailed without a word, she was the friend who was there for me.”

  “After I bailed?!” I open my mouth to protest, wanting to explain all those things I couldn’t back then — wanting to tell her about Bryce’s death. But before I can say another word I feel a strange tug at my ankles — and I’m forced to step forward, right into Sarah.

  “SHIT!” She gets out one word before we both go tumbling down, Pepper barking wildly at us the entire time. As he was circling us he wrapped his leash around both of our legs; the tangled mess led to our tumble.

  Oh wow, she might actually kill me — and my poor dog — now. I hurriedly get up, careful not to crush Sarah, who’s landed underneath me in the process. “Sarah! I’m sorry, he’s still learning how to deal with the leash. Are you okay?”

  Pepper is bouncing all over her, licking her face and yipping happily while I struggle to get him to calm down and off of her. “Pepper, stop! Bad boy! Down!”

  I hear a strange muffled sound coming from Sarah. She’s crying. She’s really hurt. My stupid puppy just slaughtered my ex-girlfriend.

  “Wh — Whe— Where…. did… you… get… this cutie?” Finally, she gets out a sentence. And I realize she’s not crying; she’s laughing. With Pepper finally subdued and no longer jumping all over her, I can see her face: Tears are running down it but they’re from pure hysteria, not pain.

  “Oh man, I thought you were hurt. Let me help you.” I put out my hands and she takes them firmly, sitting up slowly. Pepper hops back over to her and she puts her arms around him smiling. “You okay?” I ask again to be sure, still nervous that my idiot dog did some damage.

  “I’m fine,” she smiles up at me, totally genuine, unmasked, sweet, and happy. Wow. This is the Sarah I remember. Simple. Laidback. Sitting on the sidewalk without a care in the world.

  “Shall I help you up off the sidewalk or you want to sit there and talk to Pepper all day?”

  She grins. “Honestly if it’s a choice between talking to you and talking to Pepper, I’d prefer him.” She gets to her feet.

  “I figured.” I help her brush off her sweatshirt. “How about settling for some time with both of us? I was just going to take him to the dog park.”

  “Sure.” She looks around for something and then spies it, on the ground — the doughnuts. She grabs the box, still securely closed, flips open the lid and presents it to me: “Doughnut?”

  I laugh. “Is that a peace offering?”

  “Well, I do have enough to go around.”

  “True. Can I buy you a new coffee? The sweets might have survived Pepper’s love-attack but the caffeine sure didn’t.” I gesture to her spilled coffee cup a few feet away.

  She nods. “That would be great. And then you can tell me all about how you ended up back in New York. In my office at P&B. Basically explain to me how I ended up working with the enemy.”

  “Whew, enemy is a strong word.”

  “Maybe you can convince me otherwise.” She nudges me playfully. “Anyway, spill. Tell me everything.”

  So I do. As we walk, I dive back into the past seven years, telling her all I’ve been up to. She tells me about working her way up at P&B, about wanting to stay in fast-paced New York City. She confesses that sometimes it gets to be too much for her, though —and that’s when she visits her older sister Celia in nearby Connecticut.

  Talking about our individual pasts eventually brings us to our joint past. And this is where it’s my turn to make a confession. To come clean about why I really left.

  “About college… Sarah, I owe you a long overdue explanation.”

  “It’s fine,” she says firmly — but her mouth is drawn in a tight line and it’s clearly not fine. “You did what you had to do. You wanted to serve your country. I get that. I always figured you would follow in Bryce’s footsteps eventually.”

  “Well, that’s the thing…” I pause and take a deep breath: “Bryce was killed, Sarah. I found out just days before graduation. That’s why I disappeared.”

  She stares at me, the shock written across her face, her eyes watering up. Her mouth just hangs open and before she can regain control, I spill my guts — afraid I’ll lose my nerve otherwise. I explain how the days after Bryce’s death left me wracked with guilt and questioning my life choices — and determined to enlist without any further hesitation. I tell her that I was convinced the sight of her tears would have made me doubt my decision and that leaving a letter seemed like the best way to break the news.

  As I’m telling her all this, the tears continue to well up in her eyes, getting closer and closer to spilling down her cheeks.

  “How could you not tell me?” She finally says. There is a hint of anger lingering in her face amidst the sadness. “All these years… I had no clue about Bryce.”

  With a start, I realize that she’s assumed he’s been alive and well all this time.

  “I would have supported your decision to enlist,” she goes on quietly. “And I would have waited for you. The only reason I didn’t want you to go when Bryce went was that you were so close to finishing your degree. I just figured you could wait one more year.”

  “I think part of it was that I didn’t want to leave you waiting for me, to be honest. You were ready to start a life together. That was our plan. I don’t think I could have asked you to wait for me. It wouldn’t have felt fair.”

  She shakes her head. “I just didn’t understand. When you left. You never told me any of this.” One tear is getting dangerously close to welling over and rolling down her face — and if it does, I think it might break my heart. Fuck,
I’m such an asshole. Why didn’t I tell her back then?

  “I wish I had told you back then. I wish I had even called you when I got back. There were so many times when I was recovering in rehab that I wanted to reach out to you — but I figured you had moved on with your life and it didn’t seem fair to reinsert myself into your world.”

  “Wait, rehab?” She pauses and looks straight up at me with those deep blue eyes. “Recovering? From what? Were you hurt?” I notice that her lip is trembling.

  “Yeah. I messed up my leg pretty bad. I got called back early. It took a couple surgeries and one year of rehab…”

  The tear that has been threatening to spill down her cheek finally does. I hurriedly go on: “I’m okay now, Sarah. I go running almost every day and I barely notice any difference. The surgeons did an awesome job and I have full function. And the scarring from the shrapnel is minimal.”

  She shakes her head and covers her eyes briefly with her hands. “I wish you had called me. I wish I had known. I’ve spent all these years angry at you… I was totally heartbroken and I just thought … I assumed you had moved on and gotten over me.”

  “Of course not. No guy in his right mind could get over you. Ever.”

  We’ve reached the dog park and come to a pause; Pepper is frolicking happily with some other pups and it’s just me and her, standing quietly by the sidelines. I hate how sad this conversation is making her.

  She pauses before tentatively looking at me and asking: “How were you hurt?”

  “An IED by the side of the road. There were two of them. A couple guys from my unit had gone ahead, they caught the full brunt of the first one. I left the truck and ran to get them…” As I’m telling her this, I’m reliving it in my head. “I didn’t think there would be a second bomb. It exploded and I got a lot of shrapnel in the leg.” That’s the story I tell people, I don’t like getting in to details.

  She nods, still looking down as she stomachs this news. “So they sent you back.”

  “Yeah. I finished my rehab in Chicago, close to the folks. I wanted to go back but my leg was too messed up so the army wouldn’t take me. I got an honorable discharge.”

  “Do you have any regrets?” She looks me square in the face, her eyes still wet with tears.

  “I have zero regrets about joining the army or about my actions on the day I got hurt. I saved the lives of two guys that day. That's something.”

  She puts one hand gently on my arm, a sweet and reassuring touch. “You did something incredibly brave. And you served your country.”

  “And I’ve got the medals to prove it,” I say with a wry smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “A Purple Heart and a Medal of Honor.”

  “It must be a huge comfort to know you saved those lives… And to have those as a reminder of that.”

  “Yeah… That’s true. So I have no regrets there… My only regret is how I handled things with you. I’m really sorry about that.” I can’t stop myself. I want to put that smile back on her face. I want to show her how sorry I am. I want her to know that I cared — that I maybe still care.

  I reach one hand under chin and turn her face up towards me, stepping closer to her, inhaling that familiar scent. And I kiss her. Long and soft. She’s frozen for a second in shock — and then she reaches both hands up around my neck and pulls me closer.

  We’re locked like that for I don’t know how long, a mixture of heat and memories coursing between us. Then a familiar yip yip interrupts us. Damn it, Pepper!

  She pulls back. “I think Pepper is ready to go.”

  “Seems that way,” I force a smile to match hers but I’m bummed. I could have kept her in my arms all day.

  I kneel down and hook Pepper’s leash on. As we walk back, we make small talk but now it feels forced. She seems distant, as if drawing back from me.

  At one point I reach over to take her hand but she swiftly draws it back. Ouch.

  As we reach my apartment, I make one last feeble attempt to keep her by my side, determined to recapture that moment in the park: “So you want to grab a bite to eat? Or a drink? I can just drop Pepper off at home and then we could go somewhere.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jake.” She says the words softly, looking down. She won’t even look at me. “I have to go. Take care.”

  Before I can say another word, she turns and walks away.

  Chapter 7

  Sarah

  I was planning to spend my Saturday afternoon resting at home in sweatpants, chowing down on doughnuts and coffee while I caught up on my celebrity gossip…but any prospect of relaxing went out the window when I let my ex-boyfriend kiss me.

  Now I’m on a train heading to New Haven, Connecticut — a last-minute 9-1-1 trip to see my sister, Celia. She lives out there with her husband and two kids. And when emotional emergencies arise, she’s the first person I need to talk to.

  It’s just a two-hour train ride but it feels like eight as I torture myself by dissecting every detail of this morning’s encounter with Jake. I had no idea about Bryce or about Jake’s feelings when he left for the army so suddenly. How could I have known? On top of that, I had no clue he’d seen active combat and been injured in the process. But why is he telling me all of this now? Is he just feeling guilty and wanting to clear up the past — or does he still have some kind of interest in me? It’s been so long since we dated, that seems inconceivable. He’s surely had girlfriends since me. But there’s still something there… Right? Or was that kiss just a case of “old habits die hard”, a last flicker of an old flame?

  The questions dart through my brain in wild circles the entire ride. That, plus the one sentence he spoke that I can’t shake out of my head: No guy in his right mind could get over you.

  By the time I make it to Celia’s front door, I’ve worked myself into a frenzy. At least I’m out of the city for a bit, far away from him. And my big sister will know what to say to make me feel better. She always does. She’s been my guiding light since mom died, years ago, when I was just a teenager.

  “Sarah!” She throws the door open seconds after I knock and envelopes me in a big hug.

  “Thanks for making time at the last minute.” I give her a big squeeze. I feel better just after this hug.

  “Absolutely. The guestroom is already made up for you. And I made Jason take the kids out to Chuck E. Cheese for dinner. They’ll be gone for hours so we can dish without interruptions.”

  “How did you land such a perfect husband?” I grin. Celia and Jason have been together for years and she’s had him wrapped around her little finger since day one.

  “He’s definitely not perfect. You should hear him snore,” she laughs. “Anyway, come in, I already have a bottle of white wine chilling. And there’s a lasagna in the oven. And Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in the freezer — chocolate fudge brownie.”

  “That sounds like exactly what I need.”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it,” I respond grimly.

  “Okay then, let me pour you a glass and then you can tell me all about how you managed to kiss your college ex after not seeing him for… What? Seven years?”

  “Yup. Seven years. But the kiss…felt familiar.”

  “Oh boy,” she gives a low whistle. “Well, can we start at the beginning? What is this guy even doing in New York? In Brooklyn?”

  I take a deep sip of the wine Celia has poured me and launch into it. I tell her about Jake showing up unexpectedly in my usual P&B morning meeting nearly two weeks ago. I explain the competition to her and how I’m trying for the VP of Social Media position. I give her every detail about his reasons for leaving so suddenly and leaving me stranded with just a letter on our college graduation day. I tell her what I’ve learned about his time in the army and his injuries. And, finally, I reveal what just happened in that Brooklyn dog park.

  “So how do you feel about his apology?” She asks when I’m done spilling my guts.

  “It feels good to finally get
clarity on what happened back then. It was all so abrupt and I never got any closure. And he was definitely sincere. But it just feels like...”

  “Like it’s too little, too late?” She finishes my thought for me.

  I nod miserably. If Jake had been honest with me at the time, back then, maybe we could have managed to stay together. But now…

  “What does he look like now anyway?” Celia cuts into my thoughts.

  “Well, sort of the same. But more adult. Like more of a manly man.”

  She holds out her phone. “Show me.”

  I pull up Jake’s Insta profile and let her browse through. “Don’t like any of his photos accidentally!” That’s the last thing I need now. If he saw Celia had liked one of his pictures, he’d immediately know I was out here telling her all about this morning. As if it meant something to me. Which it didn’t.

  “Give me a little more credit,” she laughs. “I might be a married woman with kids but I’m not sitting in the nursing home yet. I know how to stalk someone on Instagram without leaving a digital footprint.” She pauses on the photo of Jake lifting weights. “Woah, that’s him? God bless America. That army training did him good.”

  “Yeah, he has bulked up since college.” There’s no denying it.

  “Jeez, Sarah. No wonder you kissed him.”

  “Stop,” I groan and put my head in my hands. “It was just a dumb slip-up. We were talking about the past and I just got caught up in the moment or something.”

  “Are you sure? It sounds like there could still be something there. I mean, what was that thing he said? No guy in his right mind could get over you?”

  “Yeah, that was it,” I nod miserably.

  “And you seem to be pretty flustered by this kiss,” she presses on.

  “Yeah but what if that’s his entire plan.” I voice the scariest thought of all: “What if all he wants is to distract me with some emotional drama — so he can win the VP title.”

  Celia laughs outright. “Okay, you need to chill. Jake’s not some evil genius mastermind. He didn’t spill his heart out to you and kiss you this morning because he was thinking about kicking your butt at work.”