“I want that too,” I said automatically. I mean, I did, but I wasn’t THAT eager. I had been when I didn’t know who she was.
“Good. Good. So maybe we could go shopping sometime. I’m guessing you know where all the good shoes are.” I most certainly did, but I wasn’t going to share that information with just anyone. But, if I didn’t, then I was going to look like I had a problem with her. Which I did, but I didn’t want her, or anyone else, to know that. Maybe I should have asked Lucah to talk to her.
“Was that it?” I said, just making absolutely sure she wasn’t hiding anything else from me. Her eyes went from my face to the napkin on her lap and I could tell that there was something, and she was still trying to get up the guts to say it. Whatever it was.
“This would have been so much easier if you were a total bitch,” she muttered. I thought maybe I’d heard her wrong.
“What would be easier?” I asked. She still wouldn’t look at me, and I started to have a creeping sense of déjà vu.
“When they hired me, they asked me if I could become friends with you, and then . . . I don’t know, feed them information. It was all really vague so they couldn’t get busted for it.”
“Who is ‘they’?” As if I didn’t know.
Her eyes finally went back to my face and I could see tears forming.
“The Board of Directors. Mr. Marksman, specifically.” I wanted to leap to my feet, point and scream, “AHA!” But this wasn’t a crappy spy movie.
“I see,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “To what purpose?” I knew, but I wanted to hear her say it.
“They want your father, and you, out. They want to force a takeover.”
And there it was.
Silence followed her declaration as we both tried to think of what to say next. The waiter came back with our salads, unaware of the tension.
I smiled and thanked him and Violet did the same, but after he left, the silence descended upon us again. Or maybe crashed would have been a better way to describe it.
“Please say something,” Violet said after I’d taken two bites of my salad. I wasn’t going to speak first.
“What do you want me to say?” I was reminded of Lucah the other night when I’d asked him to talk to me.
“So what did you tell them?” Her eyes flew wide.
“Nothing. I swear. I’ve been telling them that it’s taking me more time than I thought it would to get close to you. They’re not very happy with me.” She tried to make a joke, but it was too soon.
“So you haven’t told them anything?”
“No. I promise.”
“Have they paid you?”
“No, but they offered all kinds of things. Or they talked about things in such a way that they would be offered to me if I gave them what they wanted.” Bastards. “I wanted to say something to you about it forever. That’s why I’ve been so weird, and I keep coming to your office, or asking you to come to mine. But it’s my word against theirs and I wouldn’t have a prayer in court. Besides, like I told you before, I love this company and it’s my dream to work here. I thought if I could put them off long enough, they’d let me off the hook and I could forget about it.”
I was sure I would have done the same thing in her place. Dream job that you’d worked your whole life to get? Nothing would stand in the way of keeping that job. I wouldn’t even let the love of Lucah get between me and my job. Well. I’d at least tried. Luckily, I’d gotten away with it.
“I understand,” I said, surprising both of us. I hadn’t meant to say it, but the words had a mind of their own. They wanted to be said.
“What?”
“It’s not your fault that those, for lack of a better term, assholes, took advantage of you. I was aware of what they were trying to do, but I didn’t think they would stoop so low. I underestimated them.” Never again.
“I’m so, so sorry, Rory. I feel so awful about this whole thing and lying to you and everything. It was a really terrible thing to do. I totally understand if you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. Honest. It could have just as easily have been me. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, but it definitely helps having your father be the president of the company you want to work for.” I hated, more than anything else, admitting that. Because it was what nearly everyone thought who met me and heard what I did for work.
“Oh. Wow. I was prepared for you to throw your drink in my face, or scream at me. Obviously, I underestimated you. So I’m sorry about that as well. I guess I have a lot to be sorry for.” She laughed a little without humor.
“Most of the things you’re saying sorry for are out of your control. If I’d been a nicer person, maybe you would have felt more comfortable coming to me about this sooner and we wouldn’t have had to go through this. So I’m sorry for not being nicer to you.” I didn’t need to say why I hadn’t been nice. Well, I didn’t want to. It was too junior high.