45. Lissa
Lissa
Iopen my apartment door to a popping champagne cork, which ricochets off the ceiling as Bethany squeals at the top of her lungs, a wide grin on her face.
“Beth!” I say, laughing despite myself as champagne spouts out of the top and all over the hallway carpet. “I have to get my deposit back.”
“Fuck that!” she says loudly. “This shithole will probably keep it anyway!”
She’s grinning from ear to ear, her excitement contagious as she walks inside, sky-high heels, a tight, dark red dress, and her beautiful hair flowing down her back.
I close the door as Henry comes out of the bedroom to look at Bethany, a little frown on his face.
“What’s happening, Mommy?” he asks.
“Aunt Bethany’s gone nuts,” I say with a smile as Bethany searches in the shitty cabinets for two mugs for the champagne.
“Your mom and I are celebrating, Hen!” she says, turning triumphantly with two mugs in hand.
“Celebrating?” Henry asks, looking at me quizzically.
“Yep!” I say, wondering how to phrase this next part. “Things are going to be a bit easier for us, sweetheart. We’re gonna move out of here for a start, and you’re gonna get your own room.”
He laughs excitedly. “Are we going to go to dinner with Oliver again, too? And another show with all the ladies in pretty dresses?”
Bethany’s hands lower to her hips, the champagne forgotten as she stares at me in disbelief.
“Excuse me?” she says, placing everything on the table. “He took you out to dinner? Both of you?”
“Hen, why don’t you go watch the end of Zootopia, okay?”
Henry shuffles off to the couch, climbing carefully up, and settles back on the cushions as I go to stand beside my friend. Bethany’s eyes are worried as she pulls the champagne toward her and pours us both a cup.
“What the hell is going on, Liss?” she asks, looking beyond hurt. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
“I know,” I say plaintively. “I’m sorry I lied.”
“You should be!” she hisses. “I tell you everything, and I was so worried about you taking this job. I had sleepless nights about introducing you to Pippa; I was terrified it would be traumatizing. Since when do you go out to dinner with a client... and bring your kid along?”
She drops her voice to a low whisper as she curses, but when she meets my gaze, her expression changes, and she slowly lowers the bottle.
“Oh no, babe, you haven’t done anything stupid, have you?”
“Like what? Fall for my boss?” I murmur bitterly, and Bethany raises her eyes to the ceiling with a long sigh.
“I fucking knew it.”
“Aunt Beth said a bad word,” Henry parrots, and Bethany groans.
“I’m sorry, Hen. That was naughty of me.”
Henry promptly starts watching the movie again. I go over to the couch, covering him with a blanket and turning up the TV, stroking his head as he settles back in the chair.
When I return to the table, Bethany has filled both cups to the brim.
“Start talking,” she says darkly. “And don’t leave anything out this time. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me…”
“I’m sorry, Beth.”
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t know something was off the second I saw you together,” she says, rallying quickly. “You were so googly-eyed, but I thought maybe it was just because of the money.”
I scowl at her, and she puts her cup down with a thud.
“That’s the job, Liss,” she says, her lips twisting. “Stop making out like it’s sordid. He’s paying for a service just like anybody else.”
“It’s not that,” I reply hastily, swirling the champagne in my cup as I take a long sip. “I just don’t like the thought of him paying me anymore. It does sound sordid to me, but only because of… I don’t know; I just don’t like it. It’s not that it’s degrading or a bad thing.”
Bethany sniffs. “Well, good, because my job is just as legitimate as a regular EA and I earn a fuck ton more.”
She plucks at a loose thread on her dress, crossing her legs as she glances at me irritably.
“Beth, I don’t think there’s any shame in what you do.”
“In what we do,” she clarifies. “And you’re allowed to feel bad about the money if you like him. But it’s how you met, remember? Even if there are feelings involved now.”
I stare at the fizzing champagne, and there’s a long, weighty silence until Bethany moans.
“Oh fuck, Liss, you’re not in love, are you? Please tell me you’re not.”
I rub my nose, not able to respond, and Bethany slowly places her forehead on the table.
“Fuck me,” she says miserably. “This is my fault. I knew you were too sweet for this job. The first guy who actually treats you with a modicum of decency, and you’re head over heels in seconds.
When he came to get Henry with you that day, I thought it was weird.
I told myself you’d run into him after work or something. Was that it?”
I shake my head.
“Alright, well then, what the hell happened?”
I hesitate and then slowly retell the events of that night, trying my best not to look Bethany in the eye as she stiffens at every new piece of information.
“Oh my God,” she says, draining her champagne and filling the cup back up. “Oh, my God. He was actually jealous of Noah?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liss, of course he fucking was. You don’t drag your escort into an alley after a date and fuck her against a wall when you’re chill about her seeing other people.”
“Bethany!” I say desperately, glancing at Henry, but I’m relieved when I find him passed out on the couch, asleep.
She mimes a zip over her mouth as she sighs, scratching her head. “Jesus. Does he know how you feel?”
“No. He told me to leave.”
She goes still, leaning forward, gripping my hand. “He did what?”
“He told me today, after he negotiated the deal with James, that it was better if I didn’t work for him anymore.”
“That lowlife fuck,” Bethany says, rising to her feet as I try to pull her back down to her chair.
“He said I could stay at AGS for as long as I want, but I chose to go today. I couldn’t just… continue to stay there with him wanting me gone.”
“Explain,” Bethany says firmly. “Explain what he actually—” she blinks, turning to stare at me. “Whoa, whoa, wait. What do you mean by ‘after Oliver negotiated the deal with James’. Oliver represented you as your lawyer?” I nod as she shakes her head, leaning back in her chair. “You’re kidding.”
“Why would I joke about something like that?”
“I know you wanted James out of your life, but Oliver is one of the most expensive lawyers in New York. I think you could’ve gotten the divorce done without paying AGS, babe.”
“He did it pro bono.”
Bethany is silent for a few seconds, and then she snorts, finishing her champagne and pouring herself yet another.
“I love you so much, Liss, but you are fucking clueless about men sometimes.” I frown at her, and she puts down the bottle. “Which is understandable, given your history, of course, but are you really telling me you think he wanted you to leave after he did that for you?”
“Yes,” I say defensively, “he doesn’t have to keep me on anymore. He solved my problem and saved Henry—all his obligations are fulfilled.”
“Liss, honey, he didn’t have obligations. He hired you as an escort; he could have just fired you without ever thinking about you again for the rest of his life.”
“He would never do that.”
“Because he likes you, you idiot. How does he even know about Henry?”
“He was in the hospital; I told you, he saw James there.”
“And he came over to you, defended you, and made James leave. And then afterward he left, right?”
“Well, no… he came and met Henry.”
“And then when it was snowing out, he offered you a place to stay and put you both up in his apartment.”
“He only did that because?—”
“Lissa,” Bethany says, gripping my hand even harder. “Listen to me, you have to tell Oliver how you feel.”
“What?”
She scoffs. “Okay, let me ask you one more thing. When he told you it would be best for you not to work there anymore, what was his expression? Like he didn’t give a shit? Or was he upset?”
I think back to that moment, the tight, enclosed space, the way Oliver wouldn’t look at me, his obvious agitation and discomfort, so unlike his strong, silent character.
“I’m not sure. He left pretty quickly afterward. But I told him he was a coward.” Bethany’s eyebrows rise, and I swallow nervously. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”
“Are you kidding? I’m so proud of you. You’re a fucking badass now. He is a coward for letting you go. It’s obvious he cares about you.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. And if not? What have you got to lose? You don’t work for him any longer; he’s kicked you out to ‘live your life’ or whatever the fuck he justifies it as.
If you tell him what you want, what you really want, to make a go of things and have him in your life, then if he says no, you’ve lost nothing. ”
“Didn’t you tell me that the first rule of this job is not to fall for your client?”
Bethany smirks at me, filling up my cup. “I think there’s an exception to that rule when the client falls for you first.”