She glared at me and casually strolled around my desk. I turned my chair to meet her but refused to stand.
She gave me a terrifying smile and cracked me right across the face with her open palm. Ally didn’t bitch-slap, but Faith did it like it was an Olympic sport and she was a gold medalist.
My ear rang like a school bell.
“You hurt my friend, and I want to murder you for it. I want to reach into your chest, rip your pathetic excuse of a heart out, and drop-kick it across the Hudson, you stupid son of a bitch. I don’t care what baggage you come with. That’s no excuse for treating one of the nicest, most beautiful souls in the world like garbage,” she hissed in my face.
“Okay, babe. Let’s get you out of here before this coward calls security,” Christian said, towing Faith away from me.
“I’ll meet you out front,” she said, stopping to kiss the man hard on the mouth and then give me the most violent middle finger I’d ever received on her way out.
Christian watched her go with the eyes of a man half in love.
Fuck.
I’d forgotten what Ally had said at my birthday party.
Invisible knives inserted themselves into my gut.
“Well, it’s been fun. I hope you’re real happy with yourself, man,” he said, turning his attention back to me.
“It’s been delightful,” I snarled.
“Everyone has baggage, Russo. Most of us are just smart enough not to hurl full-sized suitcases at the people we love.” He patted the garment bag. “Here’s your custom fucking vest Ally asked me to make for you. Hope it doesn’t even come close to making up for losing the girl.”
My world was starting to close in on me. The walls of my office loomed closer and closer. Had I really thrown away something real, or was I justified in my distrust?
She wasn’t Elena. She hated artifice. Ally taught women to dance and love their bodies. She created beauty with color and design. She inspired kindness and generosity in everyone—myself included. She put her entire life on hold to clean up someone else’s mess.
And I wasn’t my father.
No, I chose to hurt people in other ways.
The realization was crashing over me like a brick wall when a new email popped into my box. Ally Morales.
I clicked it before I was even conscious of grabbing the mouse.
Subject: Itemized remittance sheet.
The message itself was blank. But attached was a spreadsheet with estimates of food, utilities, gas, the storage unit I’d rented for her father’s furniture, and the entire renovation bill from her father’s house. There was a notation at the bottom. First payment $50.
Because she no longer had a job thanks to me. She had nothing until the house went on the market and sold. Even then, the money went to the nursing home.
I swore under my breath. I was an asshole. Lower than low. Ally Morales was worse off having met me.
I jumped up, intending to get my coat. I’d made a very big mistake, and I wasn’t sure I could live with myself now.
There was another knock at my door.
“Go away,” I snarled.
But the knocker was either feeling brave, or they’d underestimated how much I wanted to punch someone.
Malina the Maneater stepped into my office.
“Not now, Malina,” I snapped. I didn’t have time to fend off another one of my father’s ex-lovers.
“This is important,” she said.
I doubted that very much. But when I looked at her, really looked at her, I realized there was something off. For one, she was wearing jeans. For two, she didn’t have any makeup on. She looked softer, younger, less angry.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Well, first of all. I quit.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Just go with it. It’s this whole full-circle moment for me. I turned down the job your father offered me at Indulgence this morning.”
That caught my interest.
“He offered you a job, you turned it down, and now you’re quitting this job?”
She nodded. “It’s been brought to my attention that I don’t have the healthiest priorities.” She cleared her throat. “I’m leaving New York. But I wanted you to know some things first. Things I’m not proud of.”
I closed my eyes. “Malina, you don’t need to walk me through your personal life. I know you and my father were… involved.”
“It’s not that. Or only that. I fed him information after he left. Things about Label and…” Her gaze shifted to the ceiling. “About your mother.”
I doubted there was much about my mother that an admin could uncover that my father wouldn’t have already known.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I wasn’t the only one still friendly with him,” she said.
“Who else?” I asked.
“Irvin. We had a few dinners, the three of us. Your father promised him managing editor at Indulgence.”
“Also, Irvin wasn’t dipping his pen in the company ink, if you know what I mean. But that doesn’t mean he was innocent.”
“What are you saying, Malina?”
She looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s my story to tell,” she said finally.
Exasperation was my new permanent company. “Whose story is it?” I asked.
“Start with Gola and Shayla,” she suggested. “And talk to your mother. Tell her Paul knows, and he’s going to use it against her.”
68
Ally
I left my key and my work phone and laptop on Dominic’s foyer table. Every gift he’d ever given me stayed right where it was. The only thing that actually hurt to leave was the glossy black piano I’d only just begun to acquaint myself with.
And Brownie. My sweet, sweet boy who was currently chewing on the strap of my gym bag. “Come here, buddy,” I said, kneeling down and hugging his warm, furry body. Excited, he half tackled me to the ground, and a good six inches of tongue went down my ear canal.
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” I whispered into his soft fur. “You be the best doggy in the world and miss me and don’t chew on that piano, okay?”
His tail thumped happily against my gym bag, and I wondered if he would actually fit inside the bag. I could say he got out while I was leaving… But then Dominic would be all alone again. And as much as he deserved it, I couldn’t take his Brownie from him.
One last kiss on the head, one last accidental mouthful of dog tongue, and I picked up my bag and walked out.
The blinding pop of sunshine wrenched a humorless laugh from me. It was almost fifty degrees today. But I was cold and dead as winter on the inside. I should have seen it coming. I should never have gotten involved.
There were a lot of things I should have done. I pondered each and every one of them at great length during my train ride.
I felt my numbness starting to crack, felt the thrum of pain, real pain, beneath the icy surface. As a defensive measure, I cranked my Men Are Big Stupid Shitheads playlist. I needed to get through the next two hours of my life as a functioning human being before I could give in to the tidal wave of really shitty feelings that was threatening to crush me.