I didn’t hear anything from Peter after the news. But I didn’t have time to worry about that with all the gossip at the office that involved me. The next morning after Peter was announced as the new CEO, someone released nasty pictures of Peter and me to all the office email addresses and all over social media, coming from an Instagram user ID of @youngandwild.
The pictures made it look like we were party animals and heavy drinkers. They showed us in bars, nightclubs, and other places where I’d never been. Everyone looked at me like I’d committed a crime. I couldn’t go anywhere without being stared at and hearing jealous or degrading comments. Even Sylvia and Yoo-Shi deliberately avoided me. The office became even more of a nightmare place to work!
And I wanted to talk to Peter even more so he could explain all of this.
It was quarter past eight that night when Peter finally came home. He entered while I was sitting on the couch in the living room and stood in the doorway looking at me. Phil must have told him about my watching his speech.
“Hi,” he greeted me quietly, closing the door carefully.
I glared back at him, clenching my book tightly.
Peter stood in the hallway and took a deep breath before walking across the living room. Stopping in front of me, fingers entwined, he said in a low voice, “I have something to tell you.”
“And I’ve been waiting,” I said sharply, closing my book louder than I intended and dropping it on the coffee table with a thud.
Peter exhaled and sat on the ottoman across from me, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his gaze fixed on his clasped hands. He looked exhausted. “I…don’t know how to start. But…” He looked up at me and then down again since I was sitting straight and glaring at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hide everything from you. Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this.”
I swallowed hard and continued staring at him.
Shifting on his seat, Peter cleared his throat. “You’ve known that I work for my family business. But I never wanted to be a CEO. My grandfather had never considered it, anyway. But Jane is, was, different. Since she was young, my grandfather put high hopes on her and my two cousins to lead the company one day. Although Jane was smart, she had a unique personality and never liked being in the limelight, which would be hard since a person who manages a company, small or big, has to be in the spotlight. But not my sister. She liked a small city and a quiet life and hated staying in a hotel. As a member of the Sandridge family, she couldn’t avoid her duty. On the California’s project, Marcus had suggested staying in someone’s house instead of a hotel and then gave your advertisement to her. After making sure you didn’t have any criminal background, Jane agreed to stay with you.
“Then she was ill and needed surgery. I came here initially to accompany her so she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, then had to replace her. Marcus had already placed me in a hotel, but I changed my mind and wanted to stay in your apartment.” Peter stopped, crossing his ankles and uncrossing them again a few seconds later.
With a sad smile, he cleared his throat and continued. “Afterward, I was busy learning her tasks and duties, then found out you worked for Myriad. I couldn’t tell you White Water is part of RTC. But it never crossed my mind that I would be assigned CEO for the company because Jane would pass away. And when I gave the speech that day, I hoped you wouldn’t see or hear about it until I could get back and explain everything to you.”
Peter rubbed his eyes with his hand and gazed at me. “I didn’t mean for everything to happen like this. Trust me.”
“Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this,” I repeated his words, looking at him sadly. It surprised me that I felt more sad than angry at him. “Are you using me, Peter? I thought we were friends.”
“I’m not using you, and we are friends,” he answered.
Heat flushed through my body because of his answer. “Friends—good friends—don’t lie to each other. You lied to me and tarnished my reputation, Peter!” I yelled.
He blinked, confused. “What do you mean, I tarnished your reputation?”
I forced a bitter smile. The weird pictures had been circulated on social media, and it was impossible if he didn’t know. Phil or someone must have told him about that.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I took my phone from my pocket and slid my finger across the screen. “Look at those pictures. Do you think I’m a clown now?” I handed it to him.
He appeared puzzled, and his mouth slightly opened while his thumb scrolled through the screen. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He shook his head as he lifted his eyes from the screen.
“Rory, I swear to God that I never posted any pictures on social media. These pictures…those aren’t mine. I would never do anything to humiliate you. The only pictures I have on my phone are these.” He set my phone on the table and took his phone out. His thumb moved swiftly up and down the screen. His expression changed as he went through the photos on his phone.
“I never had those pictures, I swear!” His voice trembled.
Our eyes met, and I didn’t see any deceit there, only shock. I took the phone from his hand and saw the same pictures that had been sent out publicly.
“Not your pictures, huh?” I threw his phone back to him, but Peter let the phone fall on the carpet. “Because of those pictures, everyone stares at me everywhere I go, like I’m some kind of leper, Peter! Val called me into her office to clarify if I had been living with you. Rowena and Desiree sneered at me. And before I left work today, I was called by the legal department to sign a conflict-of-interest disclosure agreement.”
Peter’s hand twitched as I continued.
“The worst part is that I also started getting phone calls from the media asking me if I am Wild Fred’s new girlfriend and how many times had I slept with you to get a job at Myriad. Some callers even asked my rate per day!” My voice trembled. “They even asked—”
“Rory, stop.” Peter lifted his hand, his eyes wide in horror. “Please…stop.”
I sniffed, and my body shuddered.
Peter’s face was pale as he shook his head. “I never give your phone number to anyone. I didn’t have anything to do with those filthy pictures either,” he pleaded. “Please believe me.”
My head was spinning. “No, I don’t! You had posted to your Instagram whenever you went to wild parties, and I also found out you did fabricate a picture of a poor girl who refused to be your girlfriend. Remember that?”
Peter’s hands dropped to his sides. “Yes, I did post about my wild parties. Yes, I did like her when we were in ninth grade. But she lied to everybody about the picture. We did fabricate one of her pictures for fun, to prank her parents so she could get their attention. Three years ago, I swore on my mom’s deathbed that I wouldn’t humiliate our family again and shut down all my social media. So don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do, Rory! And ask Marcus. He knows me well!”
“How could I ask him if he is working with you?” I shouted.
Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No one said a word because we were busy calming ourselves.
“Peter,” I broke the silence, taking an envelope out from between the pages of my book. “I enjoyed living with you for the last four months. You and Jane were very generous. I’m so grateful for your kindness. And by contract, you still have two more months to live here, but”—I pushed the envelope toward him—“this is a check for the last two months of rent. I’m returning it to you, and please find somewhere else because I already signed an agreement to lease a studio apartment starting next month.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “Rory…” He begged me.
I shook my head. “You still have more than a week to find a new place, and I don’t believe it will be difficult for you. Please move out before the end of the month,” I said, clenching my hands to control my voice. “And for tonight, I need you to sleep somewhere else.”
Peter looked at the ceiling, his lips thinner. His hand ran over his hair as he lowered his head and looked back at me. “Please keep the money,” he said, pushing the envelope back to me.
“I’m not your charity case!” My voice sounded louder than I’d meant. I cleared my throat, pushed the envelope toward him again, and said in a gentler voice, “Please take it, Peter.”
For a few seconds, he gazed at me, studying my face. Exhaling, he lowered his eyes and took the envelope from the table.
I offered a thin smile, then my eyes widened as Peter tore the envelope into pieces.
“You don’t owe me anything, Roomie. My gratitude for living with you these last few months is worth more than money. And now I’ve caused you misery. No, you don’t owe me anything,” he said, rising from his seat slowly. “Let me grab some of my clothes, and I’ll pack the rest and get out of here as soon as possible.”
A sad smile appeared on his face as he stared at me for a moment before going to his bedroom. Ten minutes later, he came out with a backpack on his shoulder and a duffel bag in his left hand. His eyes were slightly red.
“I’ll stay in a hotel. But if you have any problems tonight, just call me. I’ll be here right away,” he said softly.
I shook my head slowly.
He let out a sigh and nodded, then headed toward the door and turned the knob.
“Rory,” he called, turning back to me. “Remember about rule fifteen, about forgiving each other? Could we apply it now so we can still be friends?”
I fought down the lump in my throat as I looked at him. That’s why he wanted to add the rule that night because he knew that one day he’d need it to cover his lies! Peter, how could you! I shook my head again.
Peter sighed and nodded.
I could see a dejected look on his face as he turned and closed the door behind him gently. I blinked faster to hold my tears as I watched his figure disappear through the door.