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“Oh,” I say weakly. “Hi, Mom.”
“Is it true? Are you out of your mind?” My mother huffs and continues before I can come up with an answer to any of those questions. “I always knew there was more to you and that other Hicks boy, but I never thought you’d expose yourself like this.”
“Mom, I—”
“Don’t interrupt me, young lady.” I can tell she’s been working her way up to this. She barely stops for breath. “Old Mrs. Daniels stopped me in the middle of the supermarket—the supermarket, for God’s sake—to ask me about my daughter’s whoring. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”
“It’s not whoring,” I manage, cracking open the bathroom stall door a fraction so I can keep an eye on the door. Shana will be barging in here any second now, or one of the other girls from the floor, to see why I’ve been in here so long. They’ll figure it out that I’m avoiding them, but nothing I can do about it right now.
“Don’t you dare make jokes,” says my mother. She sounds genuinely shaken under all her bluster. In all the scenarios I’d imagined, when I pictured telling her about how I’d fallen in love with two men, it never once occurred to me that it would upset her this much.
“I’m not joking,” I say.
“Is it true?” she asks again. This time she waits for me to answer.
“Which part?” I have to be careful here. The write-up Evie sent me made it clear that all three of us were involved. That’s going to be a problem for a lot of people.
“Any of it,” says Mom, seething. I’m not trying to make her angrier, but she won’t care about that right now.
“Yes.”
Mom takes a deep breath.
“Which part?”
“Pretty much all of it,” I admit. “Although, that picture was taken long before—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear any of it. You’re embarrassing yourself, Bailey, if you think to continue in this way. It’s a good thing they’ve already filmed that television show. I can’t imagine they’d allow you to stay on after all this.”
I try to speak again, to defend Drew and Cooper and myself, to explain. But she’s not having it.
“Call me when you’ve come to your senses.” With that, my mother hangs up on me.
I’m still staring at my phone a moment later when Shana finally pops her head in the door.
“Everything okay in here, Bailey?”
I swallow hard to get the lump out of my throat before I can answer.
“Yep. Be right there,” I say. My voice sounds hoarse. Shana’s expression is closed, showing none of the glee I was expecting to see. She hesitates before speaking again.
“Mr. Heckman is looking for you. I’m supposed to tell you to meet him in his office.”
I close my eyes, letting my head fall back so the tears don’t spill over. My last day is tomorrow. I’m so close to being done here.
Dry it up, girl. Hold it down. You can handle this.
Mr. Heckman has spent most of my final days at the bank pretending I don’t exist. Or like I’m already gone. He’s not pleased that I handed in my resignation rather than fall in line like he expected. It made me sad after all these years of working well together, but I can’t really blame him for it.
I make my way to his office, keeping my head high.
“Ms. Ross,” he says, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. The expression on his face is that of someone required to sift through a dumpster; his distaste is plain.
“No, thank you,” I say quietly. “Mr. Heckman, I need to leave early today.”
He looks up at me sharply.
“I still have unused sick days,” I add. “But there’s a… personal matter I need to attend to. I really need to get home.”
