WE ALL HAVE OUR BAGGAGE
RUE
I delivered my notice letter to Florence in person, the day after
Kline’s lawyers sent me a board-ratified contract that gave me full ownership of my provisional patent. The day after discovering what Eli
had given up in exchange.
I didn’t owe Florence a confrontation. However, I remembered what Eli had said about closure. My confidence in my peoplejudging skills was at an all-time low, but if there was anyone I could trust, it was Eli. I knew that now, and I’d known before he’d made it possible for me to hold my new contract in my hands.
I’d fucked up. Big-time. But vulnerability had a time and a place, and a meeting with Florence Kline was less than ideal.
“Do you have anything lined up?” Florence asked me, staring at an undefined spot on my forehead from across her desk. She looked pale. Exhaustion had carved deep lines that bracketed her lips, darkened the circles around her eyes.
“Just interviews. Next week.” I’d lined up four by reaching out to grad school acquaintances, my PhD adviser, a recruiter. I didn’t love change, and switching jobs was never going to be easy for me, but it was unavoidable.
“Good.” Florence nodded. “Do you need references?” “I put down someone else.”
An infinitesimal wince. “Right.” She rubbed the heel of her palm on her temple. “Am I correct in assuming that Tisha will follow you?”
She was. “You’ll have to ask her.”
She sighed. “Rue. I had no other choice. You gave them the books and put me in the position of having to sell—”
I had no intention of listening to Florence’s justifications, so I stood. “Thank you for everything,” I said, meaning it. “I’ll get back to work. Will you let HR know, or should I?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Her lips thinned. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry, Rue. I cared about them, and I wouldn’t have hurt them if it hadn’t been absolutely necessary. And I care about you, whether you believe it or not.”
“I believe it. You just care about yourself more, and that’s your right. I’d rather not surround myself with someone who’ll hurt me just to get ahead, and that’s mine.”
Her eyes hardened. “Then there will be no one left to surround yourself with, Rue.”
I shrugged and walked out, thinking that she was wrong. Thinking about Eli.
I had lunch with Tisha, and by common agreement we didn’t mention Florence once. We’d spent days dissecting every single red flag, every missed clue, every misstep, and we were exhausted. Two hours later, while finishing up a report for Matt, I received an email from Kline’s HR, letting me know that I was being terminated starting the following week.
Because your position has been terminated, you are eligible for a severance package that amounts to one month’s worth of salary for each year you worked.
I sat back in my chair, staring at Tisha’s calendar. For the first time since finding out about what Florence had done, I allowed a splinter of sadness to pierce through my anger. I’d lost a friend, when I had very few to spare to begin with.
I care about you, too, Florence.
I left my desk at five o’clock. In the parking lot, while rummaging through my bag for a pair of sunglasses, I heard someone call my name. Minami was leaning against the bumper of a green Volkswagen beetle, and my single, all-obscuring, fight-or-flight reaction to seeing her was: Eli.
Eli, Eli, Eli.
It was like a burst of fire through my veins, a jolting reminder of what I’d been trying to come to terms with for the better part of a week. My hands trembled, and I stuffed them in the back pockets of my jeans.
“Hi!” Minami grinned. “How are you?”
It took a moment for me to calm down enough to say, “Good. You?” “Good! I’m not going to take up too much of your time, but I wanted to
give you this.” She held out a document folded in a plastic case. I accepted, but must have looked confused, because she explained, “It’s a contract that details your payment plan for the other half of your house. House? It was a house, right? I forget. Anyway, we had our lawyers get in touch with your . .
. brother? I once again forget.”
My pulse fluttered in my throat. “What does it mean?”
“Well, nothing if you don’t sign it. But our legal team worked as a mediator, found estimators, and made sure you could reach an agreement for a payment plan. Same thing you’d have gotten around to doing eventually.”
“How?”
She shrugged, like real estate jurisprudence was as obscure as necromancy to her. “We have really good lawyers. And they’re on the payroll anyway. We might as well make use of them. It’ll save you time and money. And no, Eli didn’t tell me the story behind all this. I’m not all up in your business.”
“Did he ask you to do this?”
It was a stupid question, but Minami didn’t point it out. “He didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, or make you think that you owe him something or feel pressured into . . . dating him? Going with him to sex clubs? Not sure what you guys have been up to.”
I frowned, thinking that if Eli thought that I could be pressured into dating someone, perhaps he didn’t know me. Minami laughed. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just, he said something like, ‘Not that she’s the type who can be pressured into doing anything she doesn’t want to,’ and your face tells me he probably was right, and . . .” Minami laughed some more, and waved her hand.
“I know what you did,” I said. “What I did?”
“Harkness. The loan forgiveness. It was a trade for my patent, wasn’t it? You let Florence stay on as CEO. You gave up your advantage so that I could keep my patent.”
“Well, yes. But also . . .” Minami sighed. “We have the board. And we’re free of this horrible thing that happened ten years ago. We did get closure, and maybe it wasn’t the perfect circle we thought we’d be getting—more like a very squiggly line. We can all move on, and I don’t mind that, not at all.”
“Thank you, then.” I looked down at the contract, which was probably the only closure I’d get with Vince. A messy, squiggly line indeed. But maybe I could move on. “And thank you for this.”
“No problem. Just let the lawyers know if you’re okay with it and they’ll finalize it.”
I nodded, and closed my eyes, thinking about Eli asking his lawyers to do this. On the phone after hours, sitting at the table in his kitchen with Tiny curled at his feet. Saying, I have a . . . friend. Who might need help. Eli worrying. Eli caring enough to—
“You okay?” Minami asked. “Yeah. Is he . . . ?”
“Eli?” Minami hesitated. “Not at his best, but he’ll be fine. I’m not telling you any of this to make you feel bad. I know what it’s like when someone you care about is in love with you and you can’t reciprocate the feeling. It’s messy, and you feel guilty, and—”
“That’s not it,” I blurted out. It was so uncharacteristic, this unsanctioned exit of words from my mouth, that I almost couldn’t recognize my voice. “That’s not what it is,” I added, outwardly calmer. The inside of me was burning with sudden, petrifying heat.
Minami’s head tilted. “You don’t feel guilty?”
I swallowed. “It’s not that I don’t . . . reciprocate.”
“Oh.” Minami looked around, befuddled. Stroked her flat stomach a few times. “Um. Do you want to talk about it?”
I could barely explain it to myself, the profound panic that had seized me when Eli had told me that he loved me. The immediate, soul-crushing certainty that if I let myself take what he was offering, I would undoubtedly disappoint him. And then, when he’d walked out of that conference room, the loss stabbing at my belly. I had majorly fucked up, and I knew that, but the hows and whys of atoning for it were something I was still in the
process of analyzing. Meanwhile, the inside of me was tender and bruised like a pulled muscle. “Not really, no.”
Minami laughed, relieved. “Okay. Well, then . . .” She shrugged and reached for the driver’s door, but stopped mid-motion, as though a crucial piece of information had occurred to her. “I have no idea what is going on between you two. And I only know you very superficially, so I might be off the mark. But if what prompted you to break it off with Eli is not lack of interest, and what you’re worried about is more somewhere in the realm of .
. .” She gestured inchoately, like a very enthusiastic painter. “You not being good enough for him, or not being sure that what you can offer him is worthwhile, or just being afraid that navigating a relationship with him might be too complicated, you might want to give him a call. We all have our baggage, and Eli’s not the type to hold anyone’s against them. Although, on my end, it would be better if it didn’t work out between you two.”
I blinked. “It would?”
“I love the name Rue. Big Hunger Games fan here.” She pointed at her abdomen. “If she’s a girl, and she is a girl, I’m seriously considering it.”
I glanced down at Minami’s belly. Was she . . . ?
“But if you end up in Eli’s life, it might just be too confusing, so . . .” Minami gave me a bright smile and got into her car, muttering, “Boy, am I selfless.” I watched her leave, waving weakly as she drove past me, and allowed her words to ring in my ears long into the night.
