He tilts his head and shifts gears, putting on that fake friendly tone I’ve heard him use whenever he’s bullshitting through a meeting.
“Look, I’m not the cold-hearted asshole you think I am. I get it. He charms his way into every bed. I hope the sex is worth it, but let’s be realistic. This ends one of two ways: the board finds out, you’re thrown out, investigated, stripped of everything… or you cancel tomorrow’s interview, and as the newest board member, I make sure you stay on the team. Everybody wins.”
I shake my head. This guy is unbelievable. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s not wrong. If he can see it, everyone can.And yes, I’ll lose my job — again —. But I'd rather live with all the consequences than bend the knee for Terrence.
I straighten myself and walk away.
“Think about it, Aoki” he calls after me.
“Fuck off, Terrence. Not gonna happen.”
“Don’t say I didn’t give you options. I’ll sit back and watch you fuck it up all by yourself.”
I flip him the finger, heading for the restaurant. I make sure no one’s watching before I duck under the barrier tape.
It’s quiet. Moonlight and pink neon spill over the tiles, enough light to make out the shapes of tables and chairs.
I find Tom tucked in the back. There’s a skinny olive tree behind him, its leaves catching bits of silver light.
There's a bowl of lime slices glowing on a table in the half-dark. I grab a few on my way and kneel beside him.
His legs are bent to his chest, arms folded tightly on his knees. It’s a small relief to see him calmer, even if his expression is as sour as the lime wedges I'm holding.
I sit beside him.
“Here.” I take his hand, placing the slices in his palm. “This will help to get the taste out.”
“Whiskey sour. Great.”
Still, he takes them and bites into the flesh with a bitter expression.
“There’s nothing worse than the taste of piss with a label. Shouldn’t have done that. I know it was stupid.”
My hand slips into his. He laces our fingers together like they were made to fit. Like it’s always been this easy.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I murmur, close to his ear. “You're okay.”
“I fucked up big time, Yosh. Once again I’ve proven myself to be a fucking failure.”
My breath comes out slowly. This one hurts.
“No you’re not. This isn’t about what happened at that table. You've been swallowing their poison for years, and tonight you finally hit your limit.”
His eyes flicker with doubt, I see the realization setting in.
“Standing up for yourself isn’t failure. Maybe you’re breaking the silence?”
He releases a cynical scoff, slipping another slice of lime into his mouth.
His face twists at the sourness, and the way his freckles scrunch together is absolutely adorable.
“It takes a whole lot more to get that fucker out of my head, but I think some of it crumbled away.”
He shrugs. “Besides, it wasn’t about me. I hated the way that wanker spoke about you. I didn’t want to make a scene, because I know I lose control easily. But he wouldn’t shut up, so I snapped. Now they’ve got another reason to call me unstable.”
The sharpness drains from his voice. “I get it if you think of me that way too. Maybe it’s true.”
He sighs, shoulders dropping. Something inside me twists. I reach out, softly hooking my finger beneath his chin.
