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“It’s the IOU I gave you.”
I remember the day like it was yesterday—waking up almost as hungover as I am now after Derek had taken care of me all night despite having only just met me. And since I’m not comfortable with people helping me out of the goodness of their hearts, I gave him an IOU to redeem at any point.
“I want to use it now,” he says confidently. “I want you to stay married to me for damage control—you owe me.”
I’m going to cry again. I will dissolve into a puddle of feelings and swirl right down the drain. Of course he would use his IOU to help me. Because when he says damage control, he means damage control forme.
I look back down at the little innocent paper Derek has held on to all of these years. Even when he hated me. Even when he thought he’d never see me again, he’s carried this with him in his back pocket. Why?
I look him right in his burning eyes, hunting for any signs of distress. There’s nothing but assurance. Unwavering dedication that I don’t feel I deserve but absolutely need right now. I have no choice—if he’s willing to help me, I need to accept his help.
“Well…I can’t argue with this very formal and binding IOU, now can I?”
“I wouldn’t advise it. I do have good lawyers.” His mouth tilts into a sideways grin that has Pop Rocks crackling in my belly. He then plucks the IOU back from my fingers, refolds it, and seals it into his wallet once again.This is mine,his eyes say.
“Might want to rinse your hair out. You’re about to get shampoo in your eyes,” he says, and that’s when I realize I’m having this lovely, effervescent moment with a bubble wig on my head.
Sexy as always, Nora.
Twenty minutes later, Derek and I are both seated at the little hotel desk with my laptop open in front of us and a videoconference call connecting with Nicole and Joseph.
“Hi,” I say with a smile I don’t feel. “Is it too hopeful to assume you’re calling because you missed seeing my cheerful face around the office and needed a boost?”
Nicole gives me a look. Joseph—the owner—grimaces. They don’t like my humor today. Or any day, really.
My knee bounces like a windup toy set loose.
Nicole sighs and her eyes betray no hints that she called me half an hour ago to prep me for this very conversation. She’s a good actress. “Mac—you know I like to cut right to the chase.”
“I do—yes, it’s one of your most impressive qualities.” I imagine Nicole is the special breed of person who flips right to the end of a book and reads the last page first. She won’t waste her time on a story that takes her by surprise. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to apologize before we get started. I’m truly so sorry. I know that what happened between me and Derek this weekend doesn’t look good,and I feel terrible for any bad publicity I might have brought to the agency.”
Mr. Newman (Joseph) nods and, when preparing to talk, leans much too close to the screen. It’s ninety percent his nose at this point. An ominous little frown etches between his bushy gray brows and my leg bounces at double time now.
“Mac—you know that despite your unconventional ways, we’ve enjoyed having you in the agency and have considered you as an asset to the team. But…”
Oh. Here it comes. The hammer. I hate the hammer.
“…But this was bad,” he continues. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Mr. Pender—who I see is seated beside you—and please know, Derek, that none of what I’m about to say reflects on the way our agency feels about you.” Seems about right. “But, Mac, we can’t have an agent on our roster who has a reputation of imbibing and eloping with a client in Vegas on a whim. It doesn’t look good and frankly is highly unprofessional.”
I wish I could disagree, but he’s absolutely right. Of course, there’s much more at play here than they understand, but I’m not even sure that makes it better. I should have been honest about my history with Derek from the start and told them it would be a conflict of interest to represent him.
My knee is now its own person with a mind of its own. All my stress and anxiety filter down to that one extremity as I prepare to hear the wordsyou’re firedcome through the line.
But then the strangest, most startling thing happens: Derek’s hand moves under the desk to settle on my thigh. The weight of his heavy hand melts against my leg and the bouncing quiets immediately. He squeezes once, and instinctively (as well as irrationally), my body eases. For the first time in my career, I realize I don’t have to face this obstacle alone.
Derek clears his throat—not removing his hand from my leg. “But see, that’s the thing,” Derek begins, and my head whips in his direction. He glances at me quickly, and I get one more gentle squeeze on my knee.Trust me.
“It wasn’t random or an accident,” Derek tells my bosses with all the confidence in the world.
And then he lets go of my leg, just long enough to raise his arm over my head and settle it around my shoulders, pulling me into his body.Ohmygoshyes.
“Nothing about our elopement was accidental. It’s been years and years in the making, in fact.” That’s a nifty way to spin the truth.
“Explain,” Joseph states firmly but not unkindly. He’s intrigued.
“Well, sir, we didn’t inform anyone from the beginning because Nora and I both thought it would be a non-issue, but…we had a previous relationship. A serious one back in college.”
Joseph’s bushy, Eugene Levy eyebrows rise. I can’t tell if he’s happy about this admission or even more set in his decision to fire me. My knee bounces again. I would really like to ask for a sidebar with Derek right about now to make sure he knows what he’s doing. This time, his leg hooks over mine to pin it down under the desk.
