Chapter Forty
“This isn’t my building,” I said as the elevator doors closed, a hint of panic in my voice.
Even drunk, I knew Leo was standing too close.
“You’re not in any shape to find your way back. This place is a maze. You can post up in my room for a bit.”
I felt Leo’s hand firmly on my lower back as we walked the empty hallway to his room. I watched in slow motion as he opened the door to a spacious suite with a working fireplace and full bar. He sat me down on a couch and brought over a Gatorade. It still felt like a strobe light was spinning.
He placed the bottle in my hand. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”
“Thank you. But I should get back . . . I have an early start tomorrow.”
He turned to look at me. “Sam. We’re the same. We get each other. I know you feel it too.”
Before I could respond, his hands cupped both sides of my face and I felt his mouth on my mouth.
I sat very still, willing myself to react. The words I shouldn’t be here kept repeating in my head.
He pulled back slightly, the wetness from his mouth turning into hot breath on my cheek. “Your husband was a real schmuck to let you go,” he whispered.
His flippancy hit like a cold plunge. An electric shock pulsed across my brain as my whole body tensed.
I’d shared so much of my personal experience leaving Ben. There was no way Leo could have forgotten how emotionally devastating it had been. I had an overpowering desire to come to Ben’s defense. Instead, I pulled my bag from the corner of the couch and tried to catch my breath.
“I have to go.”
He looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.”
He went and stood in front of the door. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
I nodded and squeezed past him, fumbling with the door handle. I felt myself begin to cry as soon as I got in the elevator.
“Are the shuttles still running?” I asked the concierge, slowly articulating each word.
He pointed outside. “There’s the last one. You know which building you’re in?”
“Building B.”
“I’d hurry.”
I walked as fast as I could without tripping. I just needed to get back to my room, change, and find Charlie.
The curtains were wide open when I woke up, and I was blinded by the sun’s reflection against the wet, white snow. For a second, I forgot where I was.
I opened a blurry eye, sensorily disoriented. My leg was asleep. My throat was so dry I could barely swallow.
My hearing came back first. There was a dull vibration coming from the rug. I leaned over and saw the contents of my bag dumped on the floor next to the bed.
I sat up and awkwardly massaged my calf to get the blood flowing.
The rug buzzed again.
I was still in the swimsuit.
I rolled myself off the bed, nausea hitting immediately. I found my phone under my makeup bag. I had twenty-seven text messages and eleven missed calls, all from Elinor except for one from Leo.
I stared at the screen, wishing my brain was playing tricks on me. Another text message.
I unlocked my phone, an immediate rush of panic setting in as I scrolled up and read Elinor’s messages, which went from bad to worse, ending with a threat I knew she would relish making good on.
Get back to me within the next five minutes or you’re off the investigation.
She picked up on the first ring. “Meet me in the conference room on the third floor in fifteen minutes.”
I dropped the phone and scrambled to get dressed. I’d never looked worse. My eyes were puffy, and mascara had reached my chin.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I moved at superhuman speed, walking into an empty conference room ten minutes later.
In the rush to make Elinor’s deadline, I hadn’t read Leo’s message.
You get back OK? We were both pretty fucked up, huh?
I squinted as I tried to interpret the text. Was he giving me a pass, or himself?
Elinor walked in with an indecipherable expression. She sat down and silently set up her laptop and her notepad, arranging a pen neatly at the top of the pad. She was terrifying.
“Did you go back to Leo Hirschman’s room last night?”
The blood drained from my face. “It’s not what you think,” I said, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it.
Her eyes narrowed. “No? Because it looked exactly like what I thought.”
“Nothing happened. I made the right choice.”
She gave me an unsympathetic smile. “The right choice, Sam, would have been not to oversleep. I’ve been trying to reach you since eight a.m. You were made aware from the beginning that I needed to be able to reach you at all times.
Retreat or no retreat.” She paused to read something on her laptop.
“I don’t think you need me to tell you that going back to a partner’s hotel room is not a good look. ”
“I know,” I said faintly.
“You should probably think long and hard about the damage you’ve just done to yourself here. And you should also know that I’m considering making a report to the management committee.”
A thousand tiny beads of sweat covered my face.
She pushed her chair back abruptly and folded her laptop. “I need the Wylie memo by three p.m. If you can’t make that deadline, don’t bother showing up to the office when we get back.”
I took a deep breath and dropped my head on the table. I wanted to take a cold shower and grind 800 mg of Advil into a gallon of coconut water.
I wanted to find Charlie and explain everything.
I made the deadline for the Wylie memo, but my nerves were shot. I felt ashamed and regretful, angry at Leo for kissing me, angry at myself for letting it happen, for drinking too much, for being spineless and too weak to go after what I really wanted.
I kept seeing Charlie’s face when I got into the elevator with Leo.
I needed to explain.
Can we talk? It’s not what you think.
I moved miserably through the mandatory retreat sessions, willing Charlie to text me back. My phone was silent. No one texted or called for the rest of the day.
I landed at JFK Monday morning and went straight to the office. Charlie never responded.
Elinor assigned us two major sections of the report on an impossible deadline. I needed total focus and concentration, and I was incapable of either. I couldn’t get back on autopilot.
I stopped at Hale & Hearty for a cup of soup when Andie called.
“Hey, busy lady. Are you as excited as me for Thursday? Do you know what you’re wearing yet? Don’t forget you have a plus-one.”
All I could hear was LA traffic. “Thursday?”
“Okay, I guess you’re not as excited as me for the book launch.”
“Shit. I’m sorry . . . This investigation has taken over my life, and I’m not being hyperbolic. I barely even sleep.”
“They better let you out for a couple hours on Thursday. You’re a huge part of this.”
“I’m cleared to go. Eddie sent the partner an email.”
“Good. Did you get a dress?”
“Not yet. Maybe I can hide in a corner, order a few options to be overnighted.”
“You’ll pull it off. So who are you bringing?”
I tucked a water bottle under my arm. “Is it too late to give away my plus-one?”
“You do you. I’ll let the PR person know, because there’s definitely a waiting list. Oh, and I cannot wait for you to see the book cover. You’re going to die.”
“Me neither. I’m gonna lose you in the elevator.”
I froze. I had one new email from Susan Klein in HR. The subject line was just “Meeting.”
I stared at the phone as my chest started to pound. Elinor must have said something.
Was I about to be fired?
She wanted to know if I was free that afternoon. I got back to the conference room, sweating with dread. How the fuck had I allowed myself to get here?
At 4 p.m., I chucked the untouched soup and made my way down to the forty-fifth floor, trying to tell myself my life wasn’t over, even if my career was.
I knocked lightly on Susan Klein’s door, and she waved me in.
“Samantha, come in. I don’t think we’ve seen each other since your first day last fall.”
“That has to be a good thing, right?” I said with a nervous laugh.
“Please, sit. How have your first few months been?”
I cleared my throat. The small talk was physically painful. I just wanted a swift execution.
“They’ve been great. A few missteps here and there, but—”
I lost my train of thought as her assistant appeared in the doorway and handed her a folder. I felt lightheaded as she opened it.
“This is just a bit of housekeeping. We wanted to let you know that we’ll be assigning you another officemate, now that Charlie Bronstein has taken a leave of absence.”
I stared blankly, trying to force my brain to keep up. “A leave of absence?”
She looked surprised. “I assumed you knew, I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been away . . . I mean, I’ve been working from a conference room with the team handling the senatorial investigation. We haven’t seen much of each other.”
“Right, of course. He’s taken a formal leave of absence to deal with a family matter in Boston. We’re hopeful he’ll be back in short order, but in the meantime, we’re sorting through the logistics.”
My stomach hurt. “Do you know why?”
“His mother’s cancer unfortunately relapsed. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had no idea his mother was sick.
I stood up and smoothed my skirt, willing myself not to cry. “I should probably head back to the conference room now,” I said numbly.
I took solace in our empty office, staring at Charlie’s empty desk.
This must have been what he wanted to tell me in Montana.
I wished I had taken his room key and crept into his bed that night instead of letting my insecurity ruin everything.
We’d disintegrated so completely that I didn’t even have the right to be there for him as he was going through something as awful as his mom being sick.
Part of me hadn’t really believed Montana was the last word until now.
The office still smelled like him.
A text popped up from Angela. Elinor’s looking for you.
I blew my nose. Coming.
I switched off the light and locked the door.