“I know,” I bit out, losing patience.
“Spectacularly so.”
“If I wanted to hear how incredibly inept I am as a boyfriend, I could go to Arsène, Riggs, or—even better—to Arya herself. I came here because I need advice. How do I make her see nothing else matters? Just her?”
Alice smiled a closemouthed smile that told me that the answer was inside the question. She seemed to be having a jolly good time watching me squirm.
“What? What?” I barked.
“Repeat your words again, please, Christian.”
I frowned. “How do I make her see nothing else matters?”
“Yes.” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Exactly.”
“That’s not an answer,” I groaned. “How drunk are you, woman?”
She sucked the cherry on her swizzle stick into her mouth. “The answer is yes again.”
I was about to take her back home and nurse her back into sobriety until I got my answer, when it struck me. The meaning of her suggestion. My eyebrows shot up. Alice shimmied her shoulders, excited that I finally got it.
“After all this time?” I groaned.
“After all this time.”
“You sure there’s no other way?”
“You just took everything this girl had. The father she adored and considered to be both her parents.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off. “Please don’t tell me he deserved it. I know that. But she didn’t, until you dragged the truth into light. Now she is forced to look at the smudged picture of her life. Because of you. Not only that, but you lied to her. Lied to her even after you slept with her. Even when she mustered the courage to ask you not to lie to her. So yes, sacrifices will have to be made, and they’ll have to mean something to you. If you don’t lose anything, you can’t gain anything, honey.”
I dropped my head forward, raising my hand with my credit card for the waitress when she brought us the check.
“Excuse me, Alice, while I catch a red-eye back to Manhattan to fire myself.”
“If this is some kind of joke, I’m not getting it; please explain it to me.” Traurig stared at me like I’d barged into his office wearing Julia Roberts’s questionable hooker garments from Pretty Woman. Cromwell sat beside him, stone faced. “First you fire Claire without our consent—without even consulting us—and now you’re handing us your resignation?”
“Ah, don’t sell yourself so short, kiddo.” I smiled, sitting on the other side of the desk, feeling perfectly okay with the fact they’d be scraping the gold letters off my door after a little under three days. “You seem to be getting everything just fine. Yes, you understood correctly. I resign. Effective immediately.”
“But . . . why?” Traurig spluttered, throwing his arms in the air with open exasperation.
“The list is long, but I’ll give you the bullet points: I should’ve been made partner three years ago; I’m overworked and undervalued; Cromwell is an asshole—no offense, mate”—I winked at a whitening Cromwell before returning my gaze to Traurig—“and you’re not much better. You made me jump through hoops and enjoyed seeing me sweat for it. And for a while, I played by your rules. Until it stopped being worth it. Which happened approximately”—I glanced at my wristwatch—“three days ago.”
“You’re dumping your entire career into the can,” Traurig warned.
“I told you the boy was trouble from the get-go,” Cromwell spit out, slanting his eyes in Traurig’s direction, moving his hand as if he were conjuring a spirit. “He is jumping ship and going somewhere else. Where to, kid? Tell us now.” Cromwell stuck his index finger on the table between us, like I owed him something.
I yawned. When was the last time I’d dropped my manners and acted like the Hunts Point rascal that I was? Almost two decades ago, I bet. It felt good, though.
“Even if I had another job waiting, you would be the last person I’d answer to, Cromwell. You’ve been jerking me around since day one, and you barely even come to the office. I’d be glad to see you dirtying up your hands a little with some real work, now that I’m gone.”
I stood up, starting to make my way to the door.
“We’ll rehire Claire. Just so you know,” Traurig said behind my back. I stopped. Turned around. Saw the shit-eating grin on his face. “Is that it?” he asked. “You had an affair with the little, cute thing, and it got out of control? Now you’re cutting your losses in case she comes for you? Slaps you with a sexual harassment lawsuit of her own?”
He was so off the mark it took everything in me not to laugh.
“Miss Lesavoy got fired because she betrayed my professional and personal confidence. If you want a rat in your company, which I assume you do, since you’re both rodents, I strongly encourage you to reoffer her the position.”
With that, I slammed the door in their faces.
And damn, it felt good.
I waited for Arya outside her office building that evening. Not accustomed to acting like a puppy or feeling like one, my ego took its first bruise in years.
Fine, it was more of a cut than a bruise.
Okay. My ego was completely decapitated. Served the jerk right. It’d gotten me into plenty of trouble over the years.
“Shall I remind you I’m going to get you disbarred if you don’t leave me alone?” Arya complained as soon as she set foot out of the door, skipping the pleasantries. She wore a red leather pencil skirt paired with a smart white blouse and looked like heaven on earth. It was a wonder how I’d ever let her out of my bed in the first place.
I caught up with her easily as she made her way to the subway. “Disbar me,” I said flatly, my shoulder brushing hers.
She made an exasperated sound, shaking her head. “Leave me alone.”
“Have your parents spoken to you since the trial?” I asked.
Another sulk. “Like you care.”