“Paisley, this can’t be real.”
“It is, Cas. Jesus…if I’d known you wanted us to reach out to you, I would have been at that hospital in a heartbeat. I can’t stop picturing them wheeling you out on a stretcher. It had to be completely terrifying for you.”
“It was,” I croak, my voice garbled with emotion as I recall how alone I felt in that ambulance when I regained consciousness. “And I was so hurt when none of you checked in on me.”
“God, Cassie, I am so sorry,” she cries, sniffing loudly into the phone. “The office got even crazier after you were gone because of course Jenson never replaced you. Just made all of us pick up your work…and holy shit did you have a ton of work. No wonder you had a breakdown. Cassie, you were so young, and you were doing the work of five full-time employees. It’s horrifying.”
I rub my lips together, feeling tears fill my eyes. “I kind of realized that a bit too late.”
She sighs heavily. “I should have been a better friend to you. And coworker. I should have protected you. I should have called. I stopped by your apartment a couple of months after you left, but you didn’t answer the door. I don’t blame you.”
“I moved back home to Boulder.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. And none of us could find you on social media.”
“I blocked you all because I thought you were heartless assholes,” I admit honestly.
“To be fair, a lot of us are.” She laughs dryly. “My heart stopped when I saw you at that charity a couple of weeks ago. Cassie, you’d never been more beautiful. Swear to God, you were the most beautiful woman in that room.”
“Thank you?” I say it like a question because it’s a weird thing to say in the middle of this kind of conversation.
“And I hate to admit this, but I was jealous of you for getting out. And when I saw you looking gorgeous at that table, I thought…wow, she’s clearly got her life together. Then your hunk of a man dropped the bomb about your stroke, and I realized what an asshole I was.”
“He’s not my man,” I reply dismissively.
“He was definitely coming at me like he was your man,” Paisley huffs. “He was defending you like a king defends his queen, Cas. I was equal parts terrified and aroused.”
My face twists up in confusion. “What did he want from you exactly?”
“He just wanted to know why none of us reached out after you got sick, gave me your phone number, and said to make it right. It took me a couple of days to build up the nerve…especially after that verbal spanking he gave me, but I was grateful for it. This phone call is long overdue.”
My mind reels with all the information being thrust at me. I want to get to the bottom of Max’s motivation for this, but considering this is the first coworker I’ve spoken to from my old job, I have to ask, “Why are you still there, Paisley?”
She sighs deeply into the phone. “Well…a bunch of us were going to stage a walkout on Jenson right when he merged with Fletcher Industries…a way to really fuck both the corporations over because we’re tired of being underappreciated while these CEOs make all the money. But all that’s changed now.”
“Changed how?”
“Well, now that Jenson’s out, we’re hoping things will improve.”
“Wait, what? Jenson is out?”
“Yeah…your man approached the board this week and said the only way he will go through with the deal is if the merger changes into an acquisition. All-Out Properties is donezo. Everything will be under Fletcher Industries, and Max has full hiring and firing rights. We all have to re-interview for our jobs in the next few weeks.”
Blood rushes in my ears at all this new information. “Holy shit. The board agreed to all that?”
“Yeah, especially after they heard about our planned walkout. They’re working on buying out Jenson’s share in the company too, so he really will be gone forever. I’m nervous about re-interviewing for my job, but I’m also hoping it’ll help purge the Jenson juniors in the office. Those assholes have to go.”
I nod knowingly. “I didn’t know about any of this…Max never said a word.” Why didn’t he say a word? Even a text. Something.
This must truly mean he doesn’t want me anymore. Because I screwed up. Because I pushed him away, and he has bigger fish to fry than to deal with a petulant nanny who was too afraid to tell him that she loved him.
“Oh, p.s., I hope you’re cool with the entire office having boss fantasies about your man because he is…fine.”
“Tell me about it,” I respond, and my throat tightens at the image of Max in front of the board, laying down the new guidelines. I bet he was a totally sexy CEO badass. And the fact that he was mine and I gave him up is a reality that will haunt me forever.
“Listen, I understand if you want nothing to do with me,” Paisley continues. “But I really would love to meet for coffee sometime and catch up. And apologize in person for not being a better friend to you. We were all in the weeds together, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t have reached out a hand.”
I inhale a deep breath through my nose, marveling at how quickly my perspective on my old job has changed with just a simple phone call. Looking back on my time at All-Out, it often felt like I was in an abusive relationship. Abuse that I allowed to happen over and over until my body gave out.
And the worst part about my stroke was that I never really got to make up my own mind about leaving. Which means I never got closure on that past trauma.
But this phone call is doing a lot to change that.
“I would love to meet for coffee.”
“Amazing. Text me your schedule next week, and we will make it happen.”
“Will do,” I reply softly, my heart thundering in my chest at the idea of repairing some relationships that I valued once upon a time. “I’m really glad you called, Paisley.”
She pauses on the other end of the line before saying, “I’ll never stop being sorry for not doing it sooner, Cas.”
We hang up, and for the first time since leaving the corporate world, I don’t feel anxiety and dread encompass me at the mere thought of my old job. In fact, I have hope for change. And there’s a certain Zaddy that is very much the reason for that newfound hope.
Maybe it’s not too late for Max and me. Maybe I need to set down my self-help book and take a page out of my Mercedes Lee Loveletter novels to try to save my own happily ever after.
“Okay, Uncle Wyatt…you’re in charge of drinks, Luke, you’re in charge of food, and Calder, you’re the busboy.”
“Busboy?” Calder whines. “Why do I have to be the busboy? Luke’s younger than me.”
I frown up at my uncle. “Uncle Calder, you talk too much, and if you’re out there talking, you will ruin the romance.”
“This is bullshit.”
I glare at my uncle, who’s acting like the kid in the room instead of me. “Behave. I’m the maître d, which means I’m in charge. Now, go set up the table by the pool and don’t forget to use the placemats that I worked on last night, okay? They’re very special.”