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I came back from a team meeting, starving. I wondered if Avery wanted to go to the North End for pasta all'Arrabiatta and steamed mussels. And fresh bread. And cannolis from Mike's Pastry…
"Babe?" I called. She didn't answer. I poked my head into the kitchen, and not finding her there, I bounded up the stairs. "Ave? Are you up here?" I opened the bedroom door and saw her raggedly zipping up a suitcase.
My heart stopped. "What're you doing?"
She wouldn't look at me. She kept wrestling with the zipper, finally getting around the corner and securing the suitcase. "I have to go."
"Go where?"
She looked at me wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then she put her hands on her hips. "To my boyfriend's."
I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut, hard. "What?"
Her eyes were cold, distant. "I said, I'm going to my boyfriend's house. My real boyfriend's house."
I opened my mouth and closed it. Then I took a step back and leaned against the wall for support. "What the fuck are you saying to me?"
"I have some other bad news for you," she said, and now her voice was shaking. "I saw a picture of Jessica and Pax today. I think my sister's at their house."
I opened my mouth again to speak but nothing came out.
She took a step toward me, her eyes softening a fraction. "I am so sorry for the trouble I've caused you. I don't know what she's doing, but obviously, it's going to be terrible. I didn't tell you…she asked me for money. Lots of money. Or she said she'd tell the press about me."
"How much?"
"Two million dollars."
"When the hell did she do that?"
Her eyes searched mine. "A few days ago."
"Babe." I slumped back against the wall. "Why didn't you tell me? At least give me the opportunity to do some damage control?"
"I didn't want you to know." Now her eyes filled with tears. "I didn't want you to hate me."
"I could never hate you—"
"But I heard you. On the phone with Eric. Talking about me and Lila."
I shook my head. "So? I told him that I didn't trust her, and that I thought she was taking advantage of you—"
"I heard you say it was a bad idea," she cut me off. "That hiring me was a bad idea."
"That was Eric. And that's not what he said. Not exactly." My heart was pounding in my chest. He said he was worried you were becoming a liability. Which was exactly what I'd been thinking. I could feel myself turning red with shame.
"It doesn't really matter. You know it's true." Her voice shook.
"No it's not—"
"You don't even know all the bad things about me. About my family," she said, cutting me off again. "And you don't want to know." Now she was crying.
"Of course I want to know—" I reached for her.
She took a step back and wiped her face roughly. "Really? You want to know that my mother was a junkie? That she overdosed my senior year of high school? That she used to bring home dirty men to have sex with so they'd pay for her drugs? Doesn't that make me just perfect for you, Mr. Golden Boy?"
I felt as though my heart was going to break. "Babe. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Please."
"Of course you didn't know! Why would anyone want to know something that ugly?"
