Page 92 of Feel It in the Air

Sexual assault charges? Christ on a bike, he has got to be kidding. The nausea tidal wave ebbs once more, the room starting to move like my mama’s salad spinner, making me dizzy. I rock on my feet and consider sitting down again.

This isn’t happening.

“You’re joking, right?” Milo asks, cutting in for the first time since Carl dropped his bomb. “This is Gus. He who wrote the directions on how to follow the rules.”

Thanks, Milo…

Only I’ve been breaking those rules for the last couple of months. And fuck, did it feel good. I have zero regrets from getting involved with Margeaux, even if it was sooner than I should have.

“I trust that we will not find anything in that area that requires actions.”

“The employee has filed an official complaint though, yes?” Auggie clarifies. “So this is not just repeating a rumor and them making an insinuation. This is actionable?”

Carl nods. “Yes. An official report and complaint has been filed. So, we do have to conduct a review to make sure that all parties were treated fairly and there isn’t a conflict of interest. There has been an accusation that there was some favoritism while Gus oversaw the legal department.”

Favoritism? Favoritism? None of this is making sense. How could I have possibly favored anyone in the legal department? I basically let them run themselves. And if I had done anything that was out of line, Mabel would have told me. There isn’t any wiggle room with that woman. She would have zero qualms about putting me in my place faster than a hot knife slices through butter. I might be second-in-command around here, but Hickory Hills is a small town and old-school Southern manners still rule. My elders would not think twice about keeping me in line.

“Are you fucking serious? What did she say?” I ask. No, demand. I need to know. Because once I know, I can put this to bed. “Tell me exactly what she said. How I favored someone. Because she’s full of shit!”

“I can’t tell you that,” Carl answers. “You’re part of the investigation, and we have to conduct this fairly.”

“So, what does all this mean? For Gus and Margeaux?” Milo asks.

Margeaux.

“I know exactly what it means,” I murmur.

Horror, dread, and defeat slam into me as her beautiful, smiling face comes into focus. My beautiful, brilliant girl and all she’s worked for and accomplished. If I’m under review, then so is she.

“We have a standard practice for all involved. We’ll conduct the review. Talk to everyone, all parties, and go from there,” Carl tells him.

The reality of this hits me. Of what it means for her. Accuse me all you want. But her? No. That’s the line. She’s worked hard for everything she’s accomplished. Her multiple degrees. Her years at Sulonen. All that she’s done to help her family’s business. Everything she’s done here at Hayes. That was all her. None of that had anything to do with her being with me.

If anything I was the one benefiting from her. Not the other way around.

However, that’s not how this is going to look. And being on the receiving end of favoritism is way worse than the giving. Especially as a woman.

Fuck.

“You need to look into⁠—”

“No.” Carl’s voice is forceful, harsh. He holds up his hand, pointing a single finger at me, the same way you’d scold a small child. “Gus, I’m telling you this as your friend, not the head of HR—stop. I know you’re upset. But do not go making counter accusations or claims. That is not going to help. Because I have to document those, and if it turns out you’re wrong…well, it’s best if we keep this as clean as possible. So my advice to you is to not say anything, to anyone. That includes Margeaux.”

The punch to the gut is so heavy it knocks the wind out of me. I’m not supposed to talk to Margeaux? Carl doesn’t know what he’s asking. I can’t stop speaking to the woman who turned my world upside down. The one I’m about to introduce to my mother on Sunday.

The woman I love.

“I’m not cutting off contact with Margeaux.”

“That’s my suggestion if you want what is best for her right now,” he tells me with a stone-cold expression. Damn it, he’s serious. “I’m not telling you this, but the complainant is threatening to sue if action isn’t taken.”

“Can they do that?” Milo asks.

“This is America. You can do anything.” Carl shrugs.

“Have you talked to her yet?” The words are heavy on my tongue, a weird contrast for how small my voice sounds.

“Margeaux?”