Chapter 31
“You’re not A Little Seoul,” Cynthia said, squinting against the fluorescent-lit hallway of her apartment building. Her grip tightened on the knob of her front door as Jilly cast an uneasy glance down the corridor before meeting her eyes again.
She made a mental note to give her assistant a raise for tactfully overlooking the literal hot mess in front of her.
Cynthia was well past a disheveled state of falling apart for six o’clock on a Tuesday evening, but sheer stubbornness stopped her from belting the front of her favorite hooded bathrobe.
She could pretend she wasn’t embarrassed by rumpled silk pajamas, one leg of which had untucked from her fuzzy tube sock.
Or the zit patch on her chin, which she raised now, defiant.
“I’m sorry for turning up here unannounced.” Jilly cleared her throat. “Well, actually, I did try to contact you…”
Cynthia glanced over at her kitchen counter, where her phone sat on its charging dock, muted.
With her confrontation with Rohit fresh in her mind, several voicemails from Jilly and one concerned text from Naomi asking why she had canceled their weekend dinner plans had been enough for Cynthia to stop checking altogether.
There was a missed call or two from her mother, too.
Too bad the silent cell phone did little to stop Cynthia from wondering why he hadn’t called. Or texted her. Or thought of her.
Stop it. You pushed him away, remember? Walls are safer.
“I’m sick,” Cynthia said flatly. “Deathly contagious.”
Jilly’s eyebrows furrowed. “In the whole time I’ve worked for you, I’ve never seen you miss more than one day of work unless you were on vacation and, even then, you forwarded work emails and sent me reminder checklists every day.”
Cynthia gritted her teeth. Yeah, and look at all the good that had done her. “Like I said, I’m sick,” Cynthia added, slowly closing the door. “But thanks for checking in.”
But then Jilly did the most un-Jilly-like thing Cynthia had ever seen her do. She stuck her foot in the entryway, thrust her face to the opening, and met Cynthia’s gaze with a hard one of her own. “I need to talk to you.”
Cynthia stared at her assistant’s determined, size six, ballet-flat-wearing foot.
“Can’t it wait until Monday?” It wasn’t an outright lie for when Cynthia planned to return to work but a generous guess at best.
“It can’t.”
With a long sigh, Cynthia left the door ajar and withdrew back into her living room to flop onto the couch. She knew she was being rude—and aware that her couch looked like she hadn’t left it for days—but right now, she didn’t give two flying fucks.
And it felt good. When was the last time she had binged two seasons of a TV show in four days? Or lived in her pajamas? She hadn’t shaved her legs or cleaned up after herself for days and it felt great.
A hollow accomplishment, sure, but great.
“Have a seat,” Cynthia said, swinging a fuzzy-socked foot onto the coffee table.
Jilly wasn’t interested in finding a place to sit among scattered throw blankets and a half-empty bowl of all dressed chips. She stood in the middle of Cynthia’s living room and looked around with a dubious frown.
“Okay, so obviously I’m not deathly ill,” Cynthia said, sarcastically. “But even if I were, this is beyond the call of a good assistant.”
“Quit it,” Jilly snapped. From the way her eyes widened afterward, Cynthia surmised that her tone had surprised them both. “Sorry. I know you’re going through a tough time, but I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
With a petulant huff, Cynthia turned off the television.
Selling Sunset would have to wait. She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled Jilly with a narrowed stare she’d perfected years ago and used many times to force grown men a few steps back.
It had always put a stop to Jilly’s incessant apologizing in the past, too.
But Jilly straightened her shoulders instead. “I was the one who tipped Melanie off about Rohit’s lie about his MBA.”
Cynthia’s arms uncrossed, her hands falling like dead weights onto her lap. “ You what? ”
Chagrin colored her assistant’s face. “I don’t regret it,” she said. “I mean, I feel guilty about it because Rohit is a nice guy, but…When I saw the article about your dad’s retirement and how Rohit was given all the credit for your work, I don’t know, I wanted to do something for you.”
“Our work,” Cynthia corrected automatically.
“What?”
“Both Rohit and I were assigned the task of fixing KC’s reputation.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth, but Cynthia wasn’t going to pretend she had done it all herself. Unlike some people…
But the reminder of Rohit’s stealing all the credit did not summon the righteous anger it once had.
Her heart squeezed around a pointy little thumbtack instead.
Four days of holing up in her apartment with the high-end real estate agents of West Hollywood as her only companions had done nothing to erase the look on Rohit’s face in her father’s office when he’d seen his secret revealed in austere, black ink.
Inside her chest, the thumbtack sharpened. “We did the work together,” Cynthia added in a quiet voice.
“You don’t have to give any credit for what you did for the staff at Kumar Construction,” Jilly said. “We both know you did all the heavy lifting. You always do.”
Cynthia couldn’t deny that Jilly’s staunch defense of her warmed her insides, but it was more than she deserved.
She shook her head. “Not this time. It genuinely was both Rohit and me. My dad—” Her voice caught and she took a quick, steadying breath so the next words tumbled forward in a rush.
“I guess my dad doesn’t see it that way. ”
“Cynthia—”
Shaking her head again, Cynthia pulled an orange throw pillow onto her lap. “I don’t want to talk about him,” she said.
Whether Jilly knew if Cynthia was referring to Rohit or her father, she wisely remained silent while Cynthia pressed her head back onto the couch cushions, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she sorted through Jilly’s admission. “Why would you want to ruin Rohit’s future?”
Jilly hurried to the coffee table and perched on its edge, tactfully avoiding the scattered pile of unused takeout napkins from various restaurants.
“I wasn’t trying to ruin Rohit’s reputation,” she explained.
“I mean, I didn’t think that far in advance.
I just…” Jilly shrugged. “You were so upset in the parking lot. I wanted to help. I, of all people, know how hard you work.”
“But…I don’t understand.” Cynthia paused and studied Jilly’s earnest face. “Melanie found out about Rohit so quickly after publishing that news article about my dad’s retirement. How did you get hold of her so fast?”
Jilly blushed. “I kind of already had Melanie’s contact information,” she said quietly.
A chill snaked its way down Cynthia’s spine. “You had her contact information,” she repeated.
Jilly licked her lips. “I…I might’ve been one of the people complaining about Kumar Construction before that first article came out.”
Cynthia stood up abruptly and the glass table under Jilly’s butt squeaked as she scooted back, startled. “That was you?”
“It wasn’t just me,” Jilly protested as Cynthia stalked to her kitchen, unsure how to regulate the shot of adrenaline running through her. “B-but yes, I was one of the, uh, whistleblowers.”
“Why?” Cynthia shook her head. Without knowing what to do, she reached into one of her cabinets, grabbed an omelet pan she’d never used, and dropped it roughly onto the stove.
Its clatter was strangely comforting. “My dad gave you that job as a favor to your father. You had zero credentials and no experience when he got me to hire you.”
Her assistant bowed her head but not before Cynthia saw contrition flood her face.
The same shame laid siege over Cynthia’s senses, too.
It wasn’t entirely Jilly’s fault Melanie had found out; at least Jilly’s intentions, misguided or not, had been kind of noble.
Cynthia had been the one to blurt out Rohit’s secret in a bitter moment of weakness.
Worse still, she’d sneered at the promotion to Rohit’s face when he’d tried to apologize, as if a person’s hard work, track record, and value should be overlooked because three letters were missing from his résumé.
What she’d done was much, much worse.
“Jilly, I don’t mean to shit on you. I’m sorry,” Cynthia said, leaning against the stove and raking her fingers through her hair. “You’re just throwing a lot of information my way.”
Jilly stood up and, with tentative steps, shuffled over to the kitchen. Cynthia half smiled. The squirrel-like tendencies were growing on her.
“I can’t apologize for telling Melanie about what Kumar Construction used to be like.
It was not a good place to work, Cynthia.
” Jilly averted her eyes. “No one wants to work at a place where people are quick to criticize but slow to praise, there’s no room to grow, and you always feel like you have to be tied to your work phone. ”
A knot pulled tight in Cynthia’s stomach as the mortifying truth behind Jilly’s admission sank in.
She was part of the problem. Hadn’t she, despite her better judgment, talked down to Jilly when she failed to keep up with her?
Had she spent any time, outside of piling on the work, coaching or mentoring Jilly?
This woman was in her apartment pouring her heart out and Cynthia couldn’t remember the last time she’d thanked her for a job well done.
Or, Cynthia realized as a nauseating discomfort stirred in her gut, if she had ever recognized Jilly for the long days or the little ways she tried to anticipate her boss’s needs.
She’d never been particularly kind to Jilly, but still, when Cynthia had been at her lowest, her assistant had shown up for her, no questions asked.
“And it’s so much better now,” Jilly rushed to add, her voice pitching a little higher in the wake of Cynthia’s silence. “I told Melanie that, too.”
“Jilly, I’m not mad,” Cynthia said. “You were right to speak up about your feelings, even if it was to someone like Melanie. No”—Cynthia raised her hand when Jilly opened her mouth to argue—“I’m glad you went to The Watch with your complaints.
Things weren’t good at work and you were right, they needed to change.
” Cynthia paused and, after a brief hesitation, placed an awkward hand on Jilly’s shoulder.
“I was part of the problem, too. I didn’t realize it then and I hope next time you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me, because I am sorry for playing a part in making you feel undervalued.
I’m lucky to have you and I don’t tell you enough. ”
Jilly’s face flushed with pleasure and her back straightened. “Then I don’t regret telling Melanie about Rohit, either. Not after what he did to you. You deserve better from KC.”
Cynthia’s lips quirked in a rueful smile. A year ago, Jilly’s brand of a black-and-white type of justice would’ve made complete sense to her. Rohit had been the enemy, she the rightful heir to her father’s legacy, and there had been no in-between.
It had been a simpler time. Easier in a way but lonely. So damn lonely that Cynthia wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. Things still felt heavy inside, but at least those wonderful moments she’d etched into her heart from the last few months were still there.
They were tiny sparks in a cold, dark place and, Cynthia realized with a start, had nothing to do with her career.
On an impulse that was weird, uncomfortable, and wholly wonderful, Cynthia threw her arms around Jilly and squeezed. “I appreciate you trying to protect me,” she said softly.
And when Jilly responded with a watery laugh and hugged her back, the sparks grew.