Page 91 of Feel It in the Air

24

GUS

“Start from the beginning.”

I sit up fully, lifting my head from between my legs, hoping the nausea has subsided, and letting the weight of my torso rest against the plush chair in my father’s office. The office I’ve been planning to inherit. Blood rushes from my head, making me dizzy for a second as the rest of the room comes into view. I have no idea how long it’s been since I walked in here, feeling like the weight of the world slammed into me and the rug was pulled out from underneath me all at the same time.

Auggie, Milo, and Carl all stand to my right, my father and brother’s backs turned to the small sitting area made up of four chairs and a coffee table, occupied only by me. Like I’ve been put in timeout.

In a way, I have.

The tone of my father’s voice says it all.

“There’s been a complaint,” Carl starts.

Fuck…

“I imagine you don’t get a lot of people coming to you to tell you how much they love you,” Milo quips.

Carl shrugs, not arguing with my brother’s point. “About Gus. And Margeaux.”

The nausea returns, this time like a tidal wave, ready to take no prisoners.

“A complaint about what exactly?” Auggie asks. As if it’s somehow not completely obvious. As if I hadn’t burst in here an hour ago telling him what went down.

“That there was…is…more than a…professional…relationship between the two of them.”

Well, that’s a polite way of putting it. Certainly much nicer than Teresa actually put it when I was sitting there.

“You don’t need to confirm anything,” he continues, but I cut him off.

“We’re both consenting adults.” I push to my feet, turning to face him, ready to defend myself.

“Or do.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his exasperation, throwing his arms out wide. Clearly, he didn’t want a confirmation to a fact he already technically knew. That everyone in this room technically knew. Too bad. My thoughts are moving too fast for me to even begin to think straight, and I need to make this stop. Make it go away.

“I told you about my interest in her.”

“You did, but you didn’t declare the relationship prior to being her direct supervisor.”

“Temporarily.”

“It was still undeclared.”

“I told you about it!”

I step forward again, closing the distance between Carl and me. My father holds out his arm, keeping me in my timeout box.

“But you didn’t fill out the form.”

“You didn’t tell me there was paperwork!”

Carl rolls his eyes. “Of course there is paperwork. I asked if you were officially disclosing it, which means having it in writing—from both of you—that this is a mutual, consensual relationship.”

“Of course it’s consensual!”

“I’m happy to hear that no one was coerced,” he says, his official HR voice in place. “We do still have to talk to Ms. Finnegan to confirm, but I trust your word and that there won’t be any additional allegations or sexual assault charges to follow.”