As I’m walking around her, she grabs my shoulder. It throws me off balance and I stumble, just as her hand smacks me across the face.
“Ah!” I yelp, my cheek stinging from the contact. I turn quickly only to see her falling into the van behind her.
“You hit me!” she screams, her voice piercing the autumn air. “Someone help me!”
I can’t move, frozen in place by the unbelievability of the situation. Shock stiffens my body, even though my brain tells me to run. I feel a hand on my arm, men’s voices speaking, and my body being guided into the building.
The cool air hits my face, and I regain my bearings enough to see Lola running at me. Isaac is standing next to me, his arm on mine.
“Are ya okay?” he asks, his large brown eyes searching mine.
“I . . . I think,” I stumble, my arms stretching for Lola. Collapsing into her, hearing her shout directions at Isaac and then to Mr. Pickner, the tears flow freely. All of the emotion of the day pours out of me with reckless abandon.
“What happened out there?” Mr. Pickner bellows.
“Some girl attacked her,” Isaac says.
My face is buried in Lola’s shirt, soaking it. She pats my hair and holds me tight.
“Shit,” my boss hisses. “We don’t need this kind of publicity.”
“Are you seriously worried about that right now?” Lola barks. “She’s a mess!”
“She is not my problem. My business is. I don’t need a bunch of fucking camera trucks here wanting to get the scoop on the Mayor’s fuck buddy.”
“I can’t believe you,” Lola gasps. “What kind of man are you?”
“Not much of one,” Isaac chips in from behind me. “You call her something like that again, and you’ll be picking yourself up off the floor. You got it?”
“Is this over your boyfriend?” Mr. Pickner asks, scowling.
“My . . . what?” I ask, lifting my face and drying my eyes with the end of my shirt. I feel like I’ve been beaten with a whip and it has nothing to do with Ms. Third Place out there. The toll of the day, this life, has gotten to me. And I feel it everywhere.
“This spectacle you just caused—was it over Landry?”
His eyes are cool, his jaw set hard. He watches me with contempt, and I thank God I’m not alone with him because I don’t trust him. Not at all.
“Yes,” I sniffle.
His head shakes subtly, his eyes narrowing. “I’m going to suggest you give me your notice and get the hell out of here. If anyone asks, you were coming in tonight to quit.”
“What?” I say, standing straight. “I need this job! I don’t want to quit.”
“You are a liability to me, Alison. Think of how this will look for me, won’t you?” He chuckles. “Think about how that,” he bites out, nodding through the door, “will look for Landry. Do you think that’s going to help his public image?”
The realization of the words pummels me. My hand shakes as Lola takes it in hers.
“What Landry will care about, Pickner, is that you just fired her for no reason. I wouldn’t want to be you when shit hits the fan.”
He shrugs. “If you could please escort her out of here, I’d appreciate it.”
“You can take your party tonight and shove it straight up your sweaty ass-crack,” Lola fires back.
“You know what,” Isaac says, looking down at our boss. “Lola and I will walk her out and neither of us will be back in. And you can bet when I’m interviewed about what happened out there tonight, I’ll make sure I tell everyone what happened in here as well.”
“Isaac . . .”
“Fuck you, Jim,” Isaac says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “May God be with you when Landry finds out what you’ve said tonight.” He looks down at me and smiles kindly. “Let’s get out of here.”
I look around his shoulder to see if anyone is on the sidewalk, but it’s clear. I sigh a breath of relief.
Isaac smiles so sweetly, yet with a touch of ferocity, that I nearly kiss him. “Thanks, Isaac.”
“Anytime. Now let’s get you home in one piece.”
Alison
THE WATER IS COOL AS I splash it on my face. I pump some soap on my hands and wash off the make-up from what was supposed to be a night at work and clean everything away.
I just wish the memories were that easy to remove too.
Lola stands in the doorway of my bathroom and watches me. “Should we file a police report or something?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, patting my face dry. It feels swollen from the tears I cried as Lola drove me home. “I have no fucking idea what to do.”
“Isaac saw everything. He said he ran across the parking lot to get to you as quickly as he could.”
“Where is he now?” I ask, knowing he drove Lola’s car behind us.
“I asked him to wait outside. I thought you’d need some privacy.”
My shoulders ache, my head throbs, and all I want to do is go to bed and cry myself to sleep. There’s so much to process, to think through, that I don’t even know where to begin.
“What did she say to you?” Lola asks.
“That Barrett was with Daphne tonight,” I say simply, trying to wrap my mind around it.