The Girl He Used to Know (Page 38)
“Wait here.” She sits down in my chair and looks at me so fearfully that I tell her everything’s fine and I’ll be back in a minute.
I enter Brad’s office. He’s sitting at his desk looking down at some papers he’s shuffling. I stand there like a naughty child waiting for him to acknowledge me. “Why don’t you close the door,” he says without looking up.
Jesus. He’s going full-on manipulative asshole.
When he finally looks up, he leans back in his chair and twirls a pen idly. “I’m just wondering if your … What is that woman to you?”
“My girlfriend,” I say, because I can’t deny any longer that it’s what I want her to be. I say it slowly and pointedly, the way you would if someone is dense and you want to make sure they understand. Two can play at this game, Brad. I see by his expression that he doesn’t care for my tone.
“I’m just wondering if your girlfriend will be making a habit of dropping in on you while you’re at work.”
“I don’t know. I can’t say for sure that she’ll never try to bring me dinner again.”
“I’m not mad about the interruption. We’ve all been working long hours, and I like to think of us as a family. But there’s a certain kind of image we need to uphold at this firm. Someone who’s in a director position like you might be will be attending a lot of social events, often accompanied by their significant other.”
“What are you trying to say?” I ask even though I know what he’s getting at. Is it even okay for him to say that? I’m pretty sure HR would be interested in this conversation. Wouldn’t they?
“I’m just saying there are certain behaviors we need to adhere to in a business setting.”
I let out a short laugh, although I doubt Brad finds this situation funny. “Yeah, well, you might want to rethink looking down her dress because it’s certainly not appropriate behavior for any setting.”
Brad doesn’t know what to say. I’m well within my rights to call him out on this, and he knows it. But as my boss, to concede to me in any way would diminish some of his power, and he can’t have that.
“I wasn’t looking down her dress, Jon.”
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
I almost want to laugh again, because now I’m just poking the bear, and we’re both aware of it. The thing is, Brad knows I’m the best person for the job. And putting someone like me under him will allow his own workload to decrease, although I can only imagine the amount of work he’ll pile on me. He’ll make me miserable while I wait to find out if I got the job, but I’m almost certain he’ll choose me in the end. He’ll let me stew about it, and he’ll definitely make me wait until we get back from New York before he makes the announcement, because that will be my punishment for this altercation. Brad swivels around in his chair so that his back is to me, busying himself with a stack of files on his credenza. I take that as my cue to go.
When I return to my office, Annika isn’t there.
37
Jonathan
CHICAGO
SEPTEMBER 10, 2001
Brad finally dismissed everyone ten minutes ago. It’s almost seven, and I’m cutting it close, because I should be on my way to the airport for my 8:52 flight to New York, but instead I’m in a cab racing toward Annika’s apartment.
She buzzes me in and when she opens the door, eyes shiny with tears that look like they’re about to spill over, fresh anger toward Brad wells up inside me for what this has done to her.
“Why did you leave?” I shout.
She flinches, because yelling is not something I usually do, especially not at her.
“You said you weren’t mad, but you are!”
“I can deal with Brad, but I’m upset because you left. Do you know how that makes me feel?” She doesn’t answer me, because of course she doesn’t know how I feel, and she won’t unless I tell her. “It makes me feel like you think I’m not worth fighting for. You can tell me a hundred different ways that I matter to you. But I need you to show me. I need to know you’re willing to face whatever shit comes our way. You can’t run, you can’t bury your head in the sand every time something happens that overwhelms you. You don’t get to go to sleep and hope it’s all been taken care of when you wake up. We didn’t have to rekindle this relationship, but I wanted to because I happen to think you’re worth fighting for and I love you just the way you are.”
“You love me?” she says, as if she can’t believe it.
“I never really stopped loving you. Sometimes I don’t know why, but I do. You’re going to have to accept that I’m a grown man and can handle whatever you throw at me. You need things from me, and I get that. But so do I. I need you to show me that you’re not going to crumble every time you’re faced with a little adversity. I need you to show me that we’re in this together.”
She looks me straight in the eye and says, “I love you too, Jonathan. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run and hide when things get bad.”
I pull her into my arms and squeeze her tight. “I have to go. I’ll be back in two days, and we can talk more then.” I have a feeling that no matter what happens on this trip, I’ll be in dire need of her affection when I return. I kiss her like I mean it and then take off down the hall.
I luck out, because my cabdriver is insane and when I tell him he needs to get me to the airport in record time, he floors it and doesn’t let up until we’re screeching into O’Hare.
I’ve cut it about as close as anyone can and actually still hope to get on the plane. I make it through security and reach the gate with mere seconds to spare, which is good, because if I’d missed this flight, Brad would probably fire me.
38
Annika
CHICAGO
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001
I call in sick the next morning, which is something I almost never do, but the situation I created with Jonathan had me in such a state I couldn’t fall asleep. I’m ashamed of myself, because he’s right. I do run from things. I hide. I always have. I do believe that he loves me and doesn’t want me to change, but that didn’t stop me from lying there wide awake ruminating on what I’d done and the trouble I’d caused for him. The forecast for Chicago on this September day is sunny and mild, and my boss probably thinks I’m playing hooky to take advantage of the gorgeous weather, but that’s not it at all. I’m just so mad at myself, and I can’t let it go. Last night’s humiliating incident will play for days on an endless loop in my brain.
I make tea and crawl back in bed with it to call Janice the way I always do when I’ve messed up. She’s making breakfast with a clinging Natalia, who she says is riding her hip like a monkey.
“If you ask me, these businessmen take everything way too seriously,” she says after I spill the whole embarrassing story. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You did a nice thing for Jonathan. Jesus, they’re putting together deals, not curing cancer or solving world peace.”
“Your husband works in the financial district.”
“I know. That’s why I’m allowed to make that statement. Clay and I laugh about some of the things he hears in those conference rooms. It’s eye-rolling for sure. But they have to play the game.”
“Then you of all people can understand why it would be so terribly confusing to me.”
“Jonathan is treating you like an equal partner because that’s how he sees you. Not when he first met you, maybe, which he’s admitted. But now he feels differently. So start acting like his equal.”
“Wow, tough love.”
“You know I’m right.”
“I shouldn’t have left, but I got scared. I don’t want to mess things up for him.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
And me, I think. Because there will always have to be someone in my life who’s tasked with taking care of me.
But I don’t have the courage to say it out loud, not even to Janice, who would certainly understand.
* * *
After we hang up, I go into the kitchen to make another cup of tea. When it’s ready, I pick up the cat I recently adopted and also named Mr. Bojangles in honor of the original MBJ, who died a couple of years ago, and settle him on my lap. I click on the TV. Matt Lauer and Katie Couric are making small talk on the Today show. Feeling guilty about playing hooky, I tell myself that taking a mental health day is almost the same thing as taking a day for a sinus infection or the stomach flu, and those are two things my coworkers are always citing for their absences. Matt cuts Katie off midsentence—something is happening in lower Manhattan. I lean forward a little, watching the broadcast with curiosity and a strange sense of foreboding. The cat leaps off my lap because I’m squishing him.
Someone has called in to the show to report a big boom near the World Trade Center, which is where Jonathan mentioned his team would be having their meetings. He has some kind of fancy phone called a BlackBerry, and I think maybe I should call him to see if he heard it. But if I interrupt another meeting, his boss will really hate me and maybe Jonathan won’t get the promotion he’s hoping for.