A record-scratch moment. The air chilled between them.
Carter’s brows knitted together. “Kids? Who said anything about kids?”
“Well, you want them, right? Soccer practice, chicken nuggets, white fences, the whole nine?”
His lips parted to say something, then he shook his head. “Is this because I asked you to meet my parents? I know I pushed your limits, but don’t you think this conversation is a little early?”
“Early for whom? I’m seven years older than you. I’m too old to wait around for you to be ready for these kinds of conversations.”
Carter let out a big exhale. “Okay...” His eyes closed. “I guess I really never thought that hard about it before. Starting a family is—”
“You mean a family with kids. Just because I don’t want to have my own kids doesn’t mean I don’t have a family.”
“You interrupted me.” He stabbed his hand through his hair. “I’d be happy without kids.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t—” Carter paused, then spoke in a measured tone. “What’s this really about?”
“It’s about kids. I just told you what it’s about, don’t look at me like that. I don’t want them, and you do.”
“Stop. I don’t give a fuck about having kids.”
“I should’ve seen it before, but I ignored the red flags of our relationship. I pushed forward with us anyway, but I knew better.”
“Better than what? What’s going on with you?” But from the cast of his face, she could tell he already had an inkling.
“Better than to hope this could work. You and me. We don’t belong together, it’s like pairing a moose with a field mouse. You’re the wholesome hero home for the holidays, and I’m the drunk spinster in the weird glasses crashing the party. I’m not the droid you’re looking for. Orange trees, parents, commitment, living together...marriage... Do I look like someone interested in that? I’ll never be ready. We had a fun time playing house, but to quote your own sentiment: commitment isn’t in my DNA. Just ask my mother. Better yet ask yours.”
Carter’s spoke softly. “If you’re afraid to admit you’re in love with me, you can just say that.”
She scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t understand exactly what I’m saying.”
“This hot-and-cold game has an expiration date. You were just fine meeting my parents. In fact, the whole meeting went great.”
“That’s what you think.”
Carter blanched. “Then enlighten me. What’s changed?”
But she dug deeper into her defiance. “That’s the problem, nothing’s changed. I told you I’d disappoint you, and now I’m sticking to my word. You should’ve listened when you were warned.”
“Bullshit. Answer the question.”
And tell him what? That the conversation she’d had with Jesse had put things into laser focus: she couldn’t commit to him. She would never be enough in the end. Not enough for a perfectly kind, perfectly beloved man like Carter. The disparity was too great and the risk of losing her heart too high. In comparison to him, she felt like orphan Annie. Like somebody’s discarded lunch. They could never be equals. Better to end things now before she got in even deeper. Before she drowned. She lifted her chin to stop her lip from quivering. “Your good looks are like hypnosis. I fell for it. But we don’t have anything beyond the physical.”
Carter’s nostrils flared. A stretch of silence passed before he spoke again. “That’s a really fucking shitty thing to say.”
She’d been willing to take risks for this man, but now she was at a tipping point. No, passed her tipping point. He’d pushed her too far, and now she’d fallen off the ride. She shrugged. “Hmm. I guess it is.”
Carter’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t do this. Don’t fucking do this. Not now.”
She’d believed the lie that work kept them apart. She’d blamed Jennifer and Sophia and Frank and the law firm and rules and propriety. But that’d been a farce. A red herring. Too easily resolved. Too simple. Her problems were deeply rooted within her, and they wouldn’t be fixed by a lunch with the parents. What choice did she have? She elbow-dropped the halfway-stuck armrest, locking it firmly between them.
“I’m sorry, it’s over.”
He wanted eggs, and all she had were Pop-Tarts.
Perdie leaned against the door once inside her house, toeing off her shoes, dropping her jacket and luggage to the ground. Bananas didn’t greet her, which meant he was asleep with Lucille.
She climbed the stairs, legs like boulders, heart like a rock. She knocked softly on Lucille’s door and then cracked it a little. “Hey, Luce.”
Lucille rubbed her eyes, voice thick with sleep. “P? That you? What’s wrong?”
“Can I sleep in here with you and Bananas tonight?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Perdie crawled in next to Lucille, pulling Bananas to her chest. He didn’t stir when she moved him, just settled in against her. So frail. She was frail too.
“You wanna talk?”
Perdie pulled the blanket over her shoulder. “What difference would it make?”
Perdie took a deep breath and made her way to the seventh floor for her meeting with Charles Joy, Frank, and Carter. She looked like shit, and it didn’t matter.
She’d awoken late. Lucille had already left for an early shipment from the wholesalers, but she propped a little card covered with watercolor bluebirds on the nightstand.
Sweet Pea, Whatever it is. We’ll get through it. Call you later <3—L
In some kind of blissful cosmic reprieve, Perdie didn’t feel sadness. Nor did she feel hurt or despair. Instead, mercifully, she felt nothing at all. An empty, all-encompassing nothingness.
She rounded the corner to the sole office on the floor, where an assistant at a desk notified Charles Joy that Perdie had arrived and then motioned for her to head in.
When she entered, the wall-to-wall window overlooking the harbor practically blinded her with sun. Frank and Carter were already seated in front of the large oak desk with Charles Joy reclined behind it, like she had walked in on a meeting already in progress.
“Perdita. Thank you for joining us. Have a seat.” Charles indicated the empty chair next to Carter’s.
It brought her no joy to see that he looked like hell. Dark stubble framed the stiff line of his jaw. His eyes were droopy, his hair an uncharacteristic mess. He stared ahead, one leg stretched out with his hands folded in his lap.
“So, we’ll make this a quick one.” Charles leaned back in his large, leather chair. “Right, now that we’re all present, first off I want to thank you both for your excellent work. The Fletcher Group had a great time, and that means we had a great time, if you know what I mean. Well done there.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Charles,” said Frank. “I knew I trusted the right lawyers with this client.”
Perdie bit her tongue.
Charles Joy’s eyes cut over to Frank, shutting him up in a heartbeat. He cleared his throat “Now onto the bad news. And by bad, I don’t mean bad bad, I simply mean we’ll have to do some adjusting, that’s all. As you know, Fletcher Group has been acquiring a great many companies lately as part of their growth structure. And it has been brought to our attention that one of their recent acquirements is none other than Zelen Corp, the pharmaceutical company.”
Perdie’s senses tingled. Zelen Corp, the company she was preparing to sue for patent infringement with Noah. Oh no.
“I don’t need to explain to you that this has become a conflict of interest in your patent case, Perdita.”
Oh no, no, no.
“As such we’ve decided to go ahead and pull out of the patent case against Zelen.”
Carter sat up. “You can’t be serious?”
“But the Fletcher Group can waive the conflict.” Perdie frowned.
“They refused the waiver. They don’t want any muddled interests between us and them, and we, of course, defer to their wishes.”
“But we can create in-office firewalls. Prevent the cases from leaking information within the firm. Firms do this kind of thing all the time.” Perdie’s heart was racing.
“Let me talk to the Fletcher Group.” Carter’s eyes darted to Perdie only for a moment. “I brought them on. They’ll consider what I say.”
Charles Joy shifted in his chair. “Carter, as always, I appreciate your willingness to show such admirable leadership qualities, but it wouldn’t be prudent for you or this firm to jeopardize our relationship with the Fletcher Group.”
“But the Fletcher Group is Carter’s client. If he’s willing to talk to them, why can’t we at least try?” Perdie’s foot was bouncing, her blood pressure rising.
Frank shrugged. “Sorry, kiddo. I told you that case was a bomb.”
“Don’t call me kiddo, you asshole. I’m thirty-nine years old.” The words came out before she could think straight.
Frank bristled. “Well, no need for name calling. How unbecoming of a professional female. I guess, Charles, some associates can’t handle the pressure. They’re too emotional, if you know what I mean.”
“Frank, I’m right here. I can hear you talking about me.”
“Watch your attitude, or you’ll buy yourself a one-way ticket to a bad end of the year review,” said Frank.
Now she was pissed. “You propositioned Carter and me for a three-way not two days ago. You’re too emotional. You’re unbecoming. You’re...you’re disgusting, you...you...fucking fossil.”
“Excuse me?” sputtered Frank.
Carter scoffed. “Frank, do you hear yourself? Even if you weren’t being entirely sexist, which you are, don’t you have even a shred of empathy? This was Perdie’s big case, the first case she brought in on her own, and you’ve pulled it out from under her and acted like a condescending ass.”
Perdie was grateful for the support but too furious to process. “And you won’t even listen to reason.”
Charles Joy’s voice was deadly calm. “Perdita, I’d advise you to calm down. This is not appropriate behavior.”
“Appropriate behavior? It’s not appropriate behavior to hire Carter as a partner after I smoked him in a deposition.”
Frank huffed. “First you’re insulting me, and now Carter. Carter, who’s done nothing but stand up for you? Did you know he came and talked to me about putting you up for partnership, did you know that? Said he believed in your talent. Really says a lot about your character, doesn’t it, that you’d stab him in the back. Maybe you should consider how your own behavior has prevented a promotion instead of blaming those around you.”
Perdie’s mouth gaped. She almost fell speechless.
“No, she’s right, Frank.” Everyone’s head turned to Carter. “Everything she’s saying is true. She handed me my ass in the depo, and look at our respective positions now. Does it even make sense that I would have to go to bat for her? Maybe we all need to examine our actions a little more closely. Think about how we’ve been culpable in creating an unfair environment. Make some changes around here. The firm would be stronger, not weaker, for it.”
“Do I look like a camp counselor to you, boy?” Charles said. “This is a law firm not a feelings firm.”
But then Frank and Charles exchanged a look, a knowing look. A possible sexual harassment lawsuit look. They might attempt to get rid of her first. Claim poor performance.
“You know what? Fine. I’m feeling magnanimous this morning. I’ll cut you a deal, Perdita,” Charles said. “You go back to your office, get back to work as usual, and we’ll all pretend like this little outburst never happened. Your bonus will remain intact provided you behave.”
Carter shook his head. “This isn’t right.”
Perdie dug her nails into her palms, the bite of pain an odd relief. Hypocrites. Inappropriate behavior. They were only in the positions they had today because everyone had always let them get away with all kinds of inappropriate behavior. These old men partying on yachts, snorting cocaine, bringing clients to strip clubs, and judging her. Why did they get to make all the decisions about everyone else anyway? Where was the justice in that?
Whatever sadness she couldn’t feel before manifested itself in rage. “No.” The word came out harsh. “I won’t go back to my office. And I won’t go back to business as usual. No.” She sprung to her feet. “I quit! Fuck you. Fuck all of you.”
“Good lord in Heaven! You’re proving my point!” Frank yelled.
“Oh hell,” Charles grumbled.
“Jesus Christ, Perdie.” That last voice, Carter’s.
But she’d already run out to the lobby of Charles’s office. Familiar footsteps chased after her. She halted, spun around, her eyes clenched. “Don’t follow me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t say we can work things out because we can’t. Don’t say you want to help because you shouldn’t. Delete my number. Pretend we never met. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a ghost.”
Carter’s voice was deadly calm. “So, you’re giving up. On us. On your job. I’m not fighting if you say there’s nothing to fight for. I won’t keep chasing you.”
For one stinging moment, Perdie’s desire to wrap herself around his body like a boa constrictor, cleaving him forever to her heart, almost won out over fleeing the scene of the crime. Almost. Instead, she wiped the threatening tear from her lower lid before it could drop. “No. You won’t. Goodbye, Carter.”
She pivoted on her heel and escaped to the elevator, and punched the buttons until the cheerful ding of its arrival. Carter didn’t follow. Fifty percent relieved. Fifty percent devastated. One hundred percent not looking back.
When she reached the third floor, she ran to her office, ripping through her drawers, throwing her belongings in her briefcase. No more tears. No more sadness. She was done.
She hurried down the hallway.
“Hey, Perdie, back from your trip?” Jennifer’s voice.
“Not now, Jennifer. I’m leaving.”
Jennifer called after her. “Leaving? But I have to talk to—”
Perdie’s back was already turned, her hand waved in the air as a dismissal. Her heart raced a mile a minute, walking briskly until she reached the parking lot. Then her phone began vibrating.
Lucille Knox.
Oh thank god, Lucille. Yes, she needed Lucille. Lucille would help. Lucille would have the right words. She brought the phone to her ear.
“Luce, you won’t believe what happ—”
“P, shut up, shut up, shut up.” Lucille’s frantic voice stopped Perdie dead in her tracks. Muffled cries staticked on the other end. “You gotta get home, right now. Oh my god, it’s bad. It’s so bad. I don’t know what to do!”
Perdie’s heart raced like a wild horse, adrenaline coursing within her. She rushed into her car and turned on the engine. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying. Talk slow. What is it?”
Two, loud sobs came through the receiver. “It’s Bananas. I came home for lunch...and oh my god...he’s not okay. I don’t think he’s gonna... I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”