Chapter 20
The sewer department’s chairs were arriving that afternoon, but mysteriously, the two little tables were not. Alyssa made phone calls to track them down, then followed up on a table lamp for Nick’s living room. It was an antique she was having rewired, and the electrician didn’t seem to see the urgency of the project.
She was sitting in her desk chair, looking at a couple of pigeons hanging out by the trash bin outside, when Stacey came to her door. The agency owner held an enormous bouquet of peonies and roses—pink and white and luxuriant and fragrant. For a moment Alyssa thought they were Stacey’s way of apologizing for being a jerk for, well, forever. Then she saw the glint in Stacey’s eyes as she set the bouquet on the desk and swiveled it so the card in its plastic prong faced Alyssa. The envelope was ripped open and tucked behind the card so Alyssa would know there had been one. Know that Stacey had chosen to open it. The card was plain, pale pink, and in an elegant male script said: I loved last night, but we shouldn’t do that again. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Nick
“Did you sleep with a client?” Stacey said as Alyssa was still scanning the card.
No! Of course not! She would never do that.
Nick wasn’t just a client, he was … different. She flushed, deep and full, and there was no reason to answer. Betrayed by her own circulatory system.
Stacey rocked back and crossed her arms, her lips pinched together. “That is an ethical violation,” she said, enunciating very precisely.
This from Stacey, who regularly churned through associates, poaching their accounts and stealing pieces they’d found to give to her own clients. Alyssa had lost a Tiffany lamp she’d secured for a client whose grandfather had known Louis Tiffany. It had broken her heart—and she’d already told the client she had something special for her. And Stacey called her unethical?
“My personal life is personal,” Alyssa said. “You shouldn’t have opened the envelope.”
Stacey ignored that. “Finish your booty-call apartment.” Alyssa’s mouth dropped open. “I want my commercial. Oh, and finish the poop project.” She walked to the door and stopped with her hand on the frame. “Then you’re fired.”
Alyssa stared after her as she disappeared down the hall toward her own office. She could not have lost this job. She needed this job. What if the reason for her termination got around? “Ethical violations,” people would say, and they’d think embezzlement or painting oak baseboards. There was no way to defend herself if a whisper campaign started. Gossip was the huff and puff that would blow her dream house down. She had worked so hard and dreamed for so long—of owning a home, of having her own agency. And now Stacey was taking it away from her. Punishing her because she’d had sex for the first time in … okay, a while.
Good sex, Rip Van Winkle whispered.
Alyssa quickly ransacked her office for personal items, in case Stacey locked her out, then opened the window and lowered the bag out beside the trash bin. She couldn’t carry everything, and she wanted those flowers, dammit. They were stunning. When that man sent flowers, he sent flowers. Even if the card did say, “I regret having sex with you and it won’t be happening again.”
Wasshe unethical? Nick couldn’t have felt pressured physically, right? He was so much bigger than her, so much stronger, and he had run out for condoms, after all. But then … this card. Her eyes pricked with unexpected tears. Things with him had seemed so right—so right. The way he had skimmed her belly with his fingers, had cupped her breasts—it was like he was worshiping her. He didn’t make love like a man who didn’t want to see her again. He just didn’t.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then carried the bouquet out the front door to her car. She came back in and stopped at Stacey’s door.
Stacey was dusting some framed awards, even though they had a cleaning service. She just wanted to bring them to Alyssa’s attention. Bitch. “Can we talk?” Alyssa said.
“No, honey. You need to finish your work and go away. I can’t have you hurting my reputation.” Alyssa’s cheeks burned and she started to turn, when Stacey said, “I ran a search on you. Your brother is a criminal?”
Alyssa turned back toward her, eyes blazing. “No, he’s an educator.” That was a lie but her family was none of Stacey’s business. “Looks like somebody has trouble with a computer.” This was a sore point for Stacey and Alyssa knew it. Come after my weak point, I’ll come after yours. For a second Stacey seemed uncertain, then she waved her hand. “Inconsequential.”
Alyssa took a deep breath to ground herself, then said, “Nick said no to the commercial.” She wanted to run home and cry, but she needed to fix this for Nick.
“Did you explain that he signed a contract allowing us to do just that?”
Alyssa flushed.
“Well. Looks like you screwed your client twice.” Stacey turned her back on Alyssa and dusted the glass on another award.
Alyssa hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the vase of flowers and a few low-priority items from her office and walked out to the refuse bin to retrieve her bag. Pathetic. But Ryan would have loved her defending him, and the thought made her smile—until she was two blocks away, car motor humming, flowers on the passenger seat, and it occurred to her that she should have acknowledged his past and still claimed him. So there was another failure.
If she was going to get fired for sex with a client, though, she was glad it was with Nick. Maybe he didn’t want to see her again, and she’d be lying to herself if she said that didn’t sting. But god help her, she still liked him. And she could close her eyes and see him whenever she wanted. She could watch his games on TV and imagine him nude, and she knew darned well that when the need was great and she took care of things herself, he was who she would think of.
She was pathetic. Unethical. And fired.