31. Rachel
31
RACHEL
I stared at myself in the mirror of the bathroom, heart racing, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. I smiled. Adrenaline was still running through my veins. Adrenaline and something else. Something that made my stomach clench pleasurably and made me giddy.
Last night in the Uber, I'd heard Derrick. I'd been in and out of sleep, but I'd been lucid enough to hear when he whispered those three words.
I'd been up half the night with racing thoughts about those three words, and by morning I was a jumbled mess, unable to untangle my many emotions. I thought if I saw him today, I'd be able to sort through it all. To come to some sort of conclusion and move on. Instead, I saw him, and all I wanted was to touch him. There was no premeditation. Just desire.
I turned my head to look at Derrick through the open bathroom door. He'd yanked his pants up and sat staring at the floor, looking shell-shocked.
My smile dropped. He did not look like a man who was happy with his choices.
"Shit," I mumbled to myself, my stomach tightening with a hint of guilt. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. I'd texted Eva what he'd said last night and that I was coming to see him, and she'd warned me not to fuck with a man who was in love.
"That was... what was that?" he finally asked.
"It was a bit of fun," I quipped, washing my hands, trying to keep it light. Why did it have to be so heavy? Why did "I love you" have to mean so much? And suddenly, the truth crashed down on me.
I wasn’t ready for those words.
I rolled out on my skates, opened a cabinet in the kitchen, and took out a glass, pouring water in it. "You had fun, right?"
"Yeah, fun," he echoed.
I brought the glass to him, and he looked at it in his hand, then put it on the side table without drinking. I reached out to touch his arm, and immediately he pulled back.
"Why did—" He stopped, bristling. "Why did you do that?"
"Does there have to be a reason? We're adults. We can do what we want. Why does everything have to be analyzed?" I skated to one of the windows and looked out at the busy street below. "It was just... fun."
"You keep saying that," he said, his voice rising.
"You should be grateful. We solved your dick dilemma." It was meant to be a joke, but his entire demeanor darkened.
"Rachel, what the fuck?"
"Why are you being so weird?" I scoffed. Oh my god. I was being such a bitch right now. I knew it, but I couldn't stop it.
He stood up, fists clenched at his sides. "I'm not. I just thought... When I saw you downstairs, I thought you wanted—I thought..." He trailed off, and the pain in his voice hit me like a punch to the gut.
"Derrick—" I reached out to him, but he stepped back.
"No," he interrupted. "I can't do this. Not until you figure out what you want."
What I wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before my grandfather popped up in my life, complicating everything. What I wanted was for him to stop staring at me like I'd just ripped his heart out.
"Why can't this be enough?" I asked.
"It just can't. Not for me. I'm sorry, Rachel, but this needs to be over."
"What does?"
"Us. Our relationship or whatever you call this toxic thing between us. I can't be casual about this." He met my gaze, his eyes weary. "I think it's best for both of us. We can keep it professional at work, but that's it. Nothing more."
Anger and hurt rushed through me, making my skin hot. "You're the only guy I know who would get mad at having his dick sucked."
"Rach—"
"Forget it." Before he could reply, I stormed out, stumbling down the steps in my skates, gripping the banister.
My emotions were a twisted mess of anger, guilt, and pain. I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I did, but not like this.
* * *
On Monday, I dragged myself into work. I'd spent the rest of the weekend avoiding everyone and everything. I'd shut off my phone and listened to loud music and cleaned my apartment from top to bottom until I was exhausted and fell into bed.
I'd dreaded coming in to work today, and I was right to. Because as soon as I arrived, I saw a message on Slack to meet Derrick in his office ASAP.
I stood in front of his office door, heart pounding like I was about to face a firing squad. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Derrick's deep voice called me in. He sat behind his desk, looking every bit the competent, composed leader. Next to him was Prathi from HR, her expression neutral but observant.
"Rachel," Derrick said, his voice even, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "Have a seat."
Prathi cleared her throat. "Rachel, Derrick has informed me your relationship has gone beyond a professional capacity. Because of that, HR needs to acknowledge the consensual or nonconsensual nature of your recent interactions. It's important for company records and for both of you that we handle this transparently and professionally. Rachel, you and I are going to speak separately first and then come back here unless other action is needed."
I followed Prathi to an empty conference room. Of course, Derrick had already involved HR. It was so like him.
"I know you're not officially an employee here—you're a consultant—but the sexual harassment policies still apply to you. Let me be clear. You will not get in trouble or lose your contract if you tell me that you felt, in any way, pressured into a sexual relationship with Derrick. Anything you say here is confidential, but if you do make an accusation, we will need to file an official report.
"Rachel." She leaned forward, her voice softening. "We don't tolerate any type of sexual harassment here. Even from the boss. Especially from the boss. If you say there was any sort of foul play, I've got your back. Okay? I don't work for Derrick. I work for all the employees here."
I chewed my lip because if there was any kind of harassment, I was the guilty party. But I got it. It was about power. And he had the power in this dynamic. At work, at least.
"I came on to him," I quickly said. "I wanted it. Derrick made it clear from the start he did not think crossing this line was a good idea."
Prathi exhaled a long breath, then typed into her iPad.
"That's good to hear." She paused and looked at me. "But if you ever need to change what you've said to me today, you can. No consequences, okay?"
I nodded. "Trust me. Derrick did nothing wrong."
Prathi smiled, and we went back to Derrick's office.
"Okay," Prathi said, glancing between us. "I've spoken to Rachel. She confirmed it was consensual."
I nodded. "It was."
Derrick's eyes met mine briefly before looking away. Prathi slid a couple of documents across the desk toward us.
"These forms state that your encounter was consensual and that both parties are aware of the company's policies regarding personal relationships within the workplace."
I signed my name quickly, eager to get this over with. Derrick signed with the same urgency. Prathi collected the papers, giving us both a reassuring smile. "Thank you. That's all I need for now, but I'll continue to monitor the relationship."
I wanted to say there was no relationship. Derrick had made that clear yesterday. Not casual or otherwise.
After Prathi left, I turned to Derrick. "I wanted to say?—"
"I've got a lot of work. I'll speak to you later," Derrick cut in, his dismissal stinging.
"Okay," I said, my voice small.
I opened the door and yelped. Standing there was Lulu. I whipped my head around to Derrick, ready to accuse him of setting this up, but he looked as shocked as me.
"Lulu?" I shook my head, still trying to process her being at Dreamary.
"Hi," she said, her expression unsure. She glanced between Derrick and me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
She took a hesitant step into the office, and Derrick rounded his desk, coming to stand beside me.
"I hoped we could talk." She smiled timidly.
"Oh, I... um, okay," I said because I didn't know what else to do. I glanced at Derrick, and he stepped closer. "We can talk in one of the conference rooms."
She shook her head. "We can talk here. I want Derrick to be here too."
"Okay," I said softly. "Let's talk."
Derrick pulled out a chair for Lulu, and we sat across from her on the sofa.
Lulu took a deep breath. "I only found out about you six months ago, and I've been thinking a lot about it. About my aunt, your birth mom, and how you were given up."
I nodded, my throat tightening. "How did you find out?"
Lulu looked at me, her expression full of sorrow. "It came up in the will, and when I pressed my dad, he told me everything. Your mom was a teenager when she had you. All I know is she had some secret boyfriend that my grandparents wouldn't have approved of because the young man wasn't Chinese. So cliché, right? She got pregnant, and my grandparents, who are very traditional, told her she had to give you up or be disowned. She was young and scared, so she did what they told her."
My heart clenched in my chest, and I rested my hand against it. I felt lightheaded trying to process this new information. "What about the boyfriend? My dad?"
Lulu shook her head. "He doesn't know anything about you. But in the will, Aunt Jessica stated she wanted us to find him and tell him about you. I shouldn't have, but I went digging through my aunt's things after she died when I was helping clean out her apartment, and I found some diaries and old yearbooks. She barely wrote about him or that time in her life, but she did write that he was heartbroken when she ended things."
Tears blurred my vision, and I faltered. Derrick took my hand and held it, and I clasped it tightly as if I was drowning and he was my life raft. Despite the heaviness of this moment, my heart fluttered at his touch.
"Do you know who he is?" I asked, my voice shaky.
"No," Lulu said, her eyes glistening too. "She never mentioned his name in the diaries or the will, and my dad didn't know either."
"Oh." My shoulders sank.
Derrick squeezed my hand. "We'll find him, Rachel. I'll use every resource I have to help. If that's what you want."
I looked at him; there was determination in his eyes. Despite how horrible I'd been to him, he was still unwavering in his support.
I was garbage.
Lulu smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I'll help too. Whatever it takes."
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the revelations settling over me.
"Well, at least I know where I get my rebellious streak from," I joked, but I didn't feel the lightness.
"Guess it runs in the family," Lulu said. "My grandpa would kill me if he knew I was here. But I don't care. I'm pissed at him. And I'm here for you, Rachel. I know you don't know me, but I'm on your side in this. On my aunt's side. She was always so sad."
"Where do we start?" I asked, afraid to hear any more about my birth mother.
Derrick leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "First, we'll go through all the information you have, Lulu. Then I'll reach out to my contacts in the NYPD. They might be able to help us track down your dad."
I nodded, resolve surging inside me. "Let's do it. But I want to let my mom know first."
"Of course," Derrick said.
The three of us spent the next hour going through the diaries and other documents Lulu brought. There were old photographs, letters, and notes that painted a picture of a love story cut short by awful circumstances. It was heartbreaking, but it also gave me hope.
I called my mom, and she immediately said she thought this was good for me and that she'd do her own digging at the hospital where she used to work and where I was born.
Hours later, Lulu was gone, and Derrick and I were sitting cross-legged on his office floor. "Peyton's gonna kill me. I totally ditched all my work today."
"I emailed her and told her you were working on a special project with me," Derrick said. "But you'll need to pick up the slack tomorrow if you can. I don't want to leave Peyton in the lurch."
"Of course. Thanks," I said and reached for his hand, but he stood up, brushing off my affection. "I appreciate all this."
"You don't have to thank me, Rachel. I'm doing it because I want to."
I stood facing Derrick. The air between us was charged, full of unspoken words and memories of what happened ricocheting between us. I took a deep breath. "Derrick, about yesterday."
He held up a hand. "Don't. Let's forget about that and focus on finding your dad."
"No, I have to say this," I insisted. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"I don't want to hear your damn apologies, Rachel," he snapped. "Just... drop it."
I flinched, the ache that had been in my belly since I left him in that apartment growing.
Derrick rounded his desk and sat.
"Okay," I said.
Whatever damage I did may never be repaired. Derrick wasn't one to hold grudges, but he was principled, and I doubted he'd ever forgive me completely.