Raza shrugs. “I don’t know. Mallory called security.”
My blood chills as a host of images flow through my mind at what might have happened for Mallory to call for help. “Was there a physical altercation?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. The woman was just demanding to see you and Mallory refused. She didn’t like that much.”
“Who could it have been?” Ford asks from beside me.
I shake my head. “No clue. What was said, Raza?”
Her cheeks flush. “The woman said she was the love of your life. And she didn’t like Mallory’s response.”
“Oh, fuck.” My gaze flips to Ford’s. “Vanessa.”
“That crazy bitch,” my brother hisses.
“Yes!” Raza cries. “That was her. Vanessa. She seemed a little crazy, to be honest. Mallory let her know, in no uncertain terms, what she thought of her and that she would never contact you through Landry as long as she worked here.”
“She was jealous,” Ford smirks.
“No,” Raza disagrees. “I didn’t get that at all.” She looks at me with a simple smile. “I felt like she was protecting you more than anything.”
My breath is stolen, my heart crushing inside my body. “My God.”
Ford and Raza exchange a few words before she leaves, none of which I’m privy to. All I can do is think of Mallory and the words I said and the pain she must be feeling.
If I were alone, I’d scream out in rage. If I were home, I’d slam my fists in a punching bag. If I were running, I’d go so hard that my legs would give out just so I could override the shame I’m feeling now.
“I’m going to—” I begin before my gaze rests on the corner of her desk. A white envelope bearing my name in red ink sits like a loose grenade. Swiping it up, I stick it inside my jacket pocket and look at Ford. “Her resume is in the lower left-hand corner of my desk. Text me her address.”
“Where are you going?” Ford asks as I dash towards the door.
“To find her. To make this right.”
An eruption starts in the pit of my stomach and creeps through my body. The fire courses through my abdomen, then my chest, and creeps up my face as reality, the truth of everything, slams into me with no mercy.
I dial her again but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Fuck!”
Mallory
“I’M GOING TO BE FINE,” I lie as Joy pulls me into a hug. “I just want to be alone for a while.”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Joy admits, letting me go. “Should you really be alone right now? I could just go fold towels or wash the front windows or something.”
“You? Wash windows?” I laugh through my tears. “That I want to see.”
“Well, I’d probably just sit there and read a magazine, but it sounded good,” she shrugs. “Besides, you’re crying.”
I wipe my face with the end of my shirt. “It’s not a sad cry.” I look at her and shrug. “Not completely, anyway. I’m so mad at him.”
“You have every right to be.” She picks at a pink fingernail. “You don’t think he lied to you though, right? He wasn’t talking to Vanessa.”
“I don’t think so. I think he would’ve mentioned that to me.”
“Sure he would’ve.”
I blow out a breath. “You know what I’m mad about? That he wouldn’t listen to me. He just looked at me like I was a piece of shit because I made a mistake. Like nothing else mattered in that moment except for what he was feeling.”
“That makes sense and it’s not unreasonable.”
“If this would’ve been a few weeks ago, I would be completely heartbroken. I’d feel like a failure. But now . . .” I shrug again. “Now I’m pissed off.”
“That a girl!” Joy laughs, almost making me smile. “Are you sure you want me to leave? There are no classes tonight. You’re going to be alone.”
“That’s the plan. I just need to think, and I think best here.”
She nods, looks at me like she thinks I might jump off a bridge, and picks up her bag. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” I sit and wait for the front door to close.
Tears stream down my face, soaking the girl power t-shirt I tossed on haphazardly in the parking lot. It’s wrinkled and had been in my backseat for who knows how long, but I wasn’t planning on coming here after work today. I wasn’t planning on any of this.
Facing the mirrors on the far wall, I start my stretches. Silently begging for the peace I usually feel here to come, I go through the motions. One pose leads fluidly into the next, followed by the third. Then fourth. By the fifth, I’m not finding any serenity.
The silence is loud, every buzz from the refrigerator in the back sounding like a swarm of bees. The drip in the bathroom sink is relentless. Sounds I’ve never heard before, never noticed, build on the fear that’s knotting my stomach in the worst way.
Maybe I shouldn’t be alone.
Crawling across the floor, I dig my phone out of my bag and turn it on. There are missed calls from Graham. I know that before they show. But I don’t expect him to call in right as I press the call button for Joy.
“Mallory?” His voice is a rush—ragged and pained and uneasy. It hits me hard in the feels. So hard, in fact, that I fall onto my back and just hold the phone to my ear. “Mallory? Are you there? Please, talk to me.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Shit,” he groans. “I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough,” I sniffle.
“Where are you? Let me explain.”
I sit up, watching myself in the full-length mirror. “I don’t feel like listening to you explain right now, Graham. You hurt my feelings.”
He groans. “Please . . .”
“You know what? I wanted to explain and apologize to you earlier and you didn’t have the decency to listen to me.”
He sounds like the wind just got knocked out of him.
“I made a mistake,” I continue, fueled by the strength I see in the mirrors. “People do that. We aren’t all perfect like you.”
“I’m not perfect,” he groans.
“Guess what? I know that. I know you’re just as far from perfection as I am.”
“You’re wrong,” he says quietly. “I’m much farther away than you are.”
My heart pulls at the sadness in his voice. I just have to remember that he made me sad today too. It’s easy to recall that when Vanessa’s face shoots across my mind.
“I forgot to mention something.” I glare at my own reflection. “Actually, I didn’t forget. You didn’t give me the chance.”
“Vanessa . . .”
“Yeah. She was in to see you.”
“I knew nothing about that. I swear on my life, Mallory, I knew nothing about that.”
“She said you talked a few days ago. I’m assuming since you didn’t mention it that she’s full of shit.”
He doesn’t respond right away and I think I gasp.
“Well, I think I stand corrected,” I say bitterly.
“No, Mallory,” he rushes. “Just listen to me.”
“Why should I?” I say, standing. My heart is racing too hard to stay sitting. I need to walk off some of this energy. “Because you were so kind to me today? Because you treated me with such respect? Because you gave me the opportunity to explain, so I should afford you the same?” He starts to talk, but I just laugh. “You know what? Fuck you, Graham.”
And I end the call.