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“How much longer is Mark’s contract?” Quentin asked, slipping into old habits.
“Maybe four more months?” Maggie answered.
Silence hung between them, then. Quentin’s throat burned as his mind revved, glossing over all the things he needed to say. He sipped half of his cocktail, giving the air a violent sigh.
“Listen, Mags,” he said. “I’ve known you a long, long time. And I don’t think, during that entire time, you’ve known me to be happy.”
Maggie’s lips parted. She eyed him curiously, obviously unsure of where the conversation was leading. “I don’t know if I thought that…”
“Well, I’m telling you, here. Besides the birth of my daughter, my adult life has been pretty dark, tinged with too much partying, too many women, too many drugs. And I’m sorry if you were affected in any way. I was a foolish, selfish man. It’s probably something I should go to someone to discuss. Someone professional.”
Maggie nodded, almost imperceptibly. “You’ve seemed good since you started as editor,” she murmured. “More stable. Less like the Quentin I first met.” She reached forward, then, trying to grab his hand. But he snaked it away. She scowled. “Why am I here, Quentin?”
Quentin hung his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The air around them grew even fierier, more taut. He needed to find release. He continued, forcing himself forward. “It’s just—I made a huge mistake. A mistake that could, potentially, ruin the professional lives of two people. But I think if I explain it to you, you’ll know what to do. You have such a balanced head on those shoulders. You’ve been my guide.”
Maggie’s face looked more strained now. She forced a slight smile, realizing, now, that she wasn’t necessarily in Quentin’s presence because he wanted to commune with her, and certainly not because he wanted to bang her. No. He needed her help.
It was clear, already, that this wasn’t cool with her.
“What did you do, Quentin?” she asked, sighing.
“It’s the girl,” Quentin said. “Charlotte.”
Maggie blinked several times. “She hasn’t been at the office in days.”
“It’s because we’ve been found out.”
Her face looked scrunched now. “You’ve been fucking each other.”
“I think I’m falling in love with her.”
“Love. Huh. What a fucking concept.” Maggie tossed the rest of her drink down her throat, looking as if she might storm from the premises. Her knees twitched beneath the table. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re the one always on and on about the no-fraternization clause in the fucking contract. You’re the one who says we have to uphold it.”
“I know what I said,” Quentin said firmly. “And I know what I did.”
Maggie burst from her seat, glaring at him. “She’ll be fired, you know.”
“That’s why I brought you here,” Quentin said. “I wanted to get out in front of it. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t. She’s worked damn hard for this position.”
“And she’s writing this fucking feature, just because she’s fucking you,” Maggie whispered harshly, her face growing aghast. “This is the top feature of next week’s magazine. This is something that should have gone to someone who’s been writing there for years, Quentin. Someone like me. You literally robbed me of a potential rise in the ranks…” Her nostrils flared. “I’ve worked my ass off for you, for years. And this is how you repay me?”
Quentin rose up, trying to stop her unnecessary outbursts. He swept his hand forward, trying to grip her forearm, talk her down. But she ripped her arm out of reach, visibly shaking. “I could sue you, you know,” she whispered. “I could sue you for thousands of dollars for busting your contractual agreement. And I’d win. You know that.”
“I do,” Quentin murmured. “Of course, I do. And I’m asking you not to do that.”
“Just because you think I’m in love with you or something?” Maggie howled, smacking her glass onto the table. “Just because you assume I have this unending love for you, you think that I’ll hide your big mistakes?”
“No,” Quentin said quietly, still trying to stay calm. “I think you’ll help me figure out this problem because you’re my friend. And you’ve been my friend for years.”
Maggie’s nostrils flared. She was acting unrealistic, wild, the very portrait of a crazed woman, obsessed with his band in the 2000s. “I just don’t know what to think of this right now. I respected you,” she said, gathering her coat. She flung her arms deep within it, tossing her red hair back.
“Then I’ll leave,” Quentin said suddenly. “After the next issue, I’ll leave the magazine. Someone else will become editor. Just allow Charlotte to stay. Don’t fucking sue me. I’ll be out of your life for good. All right?”
Maggie looked defeated. She spun swiftly from the bar, her coat twirling behind her, and then sped into the rainy streets. She hailed a cab with a flail of her arm and then was gone, rushing back to whichever corner of the universe she normally existed in. Quentin still felt her shadowy anger, lurking on his shoulders.
