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Call her personally to tell her the good news. Psh.
Hudson has good intentions when he gives me Vanessa's file so I can get her number and make the call, even if he does hand it over with the comment, "Unless of course you already have her number…given your history and all…"
The idiot wasn't even thinking about what other details about her would be in that file. It dawns on me that Bardot really is a boys club, and if I was some kind of crazed ex-boyfriend with any intention of physically harming Vanessa - they just fed her to the wolves.
But I don't want to hurt her or stalk her. Not like that anyways. I only want her to regret ever pulling this crap with the board - threatening a lawsuit just because she couldn't bully her way back into my good graces.
I open the file and plug her address into Uber. I'm too pissed to drive. After the car picks me up, I settle into the backseat with the file still in my hands. I can't resist flipping through it to see just what it is about Vanessa that makes her and everyone else think she's so damn qualified for this role. I guess it doesn't matter. She played her cards right and weaseled her way into it anyways, qualified or not.
I scan her resume, starting with the education section. It's obviously no surprise she started as an undergrad at Berkeley, majoring in Chemical Biology. Whatissurprising is how she went on from there to get a masters in Bioprocess Engineering, which she didn't need to become a veterinarian. Last I heard, that was her lifelong dream. But I guess I never knew as much about her as I thought.
I keep reading and see that she got into their PhD program with a designated emphasis in cancer research. After becoming a doctor, she got a biologist position at a genome lab. I happen to know the lab's work. It's good. Ambitious, but severely underfunded…which explains her obsession with getting into Bardot.
What it doesn't explain is why she became so obsessed with curing cancer in the first place. When we were together, she only cared about that because I did. She didn't have any interest in doing it herself.
I hate to admit that her resume is actually pretty impressive. If I hadn't been so determined to keep her as far away from me as possible, maybe I would have taken the time to see that before all of this started.
But it still doesn't change my original assessment. All of our history aside, she's still too emotionally-driven to lead our research team. This whole ordeal - showing up at that party, lying to Sturgill, tricking me into an interview, lying to Sturgillagainabout discrimination - it all just goes to prove I'm right.
Maybe there's nothing I can do to stop it now. But I'm sure as hell going to give her a piece of my mind before I'm stuck working with her every day. I can't keep all of this bottled up inside day in and day out without exploding. Better to let it out now in some place private and far away from the hospital.
The car barely pulls to a full stop in front of her building before I jump out with her file in hand. I hesitate for a moment outside the front door, pulling my hand back from the bar to open it.
I pause and think to myself - maybe I'm crossing a line by showing up at her home like this. Then I look down to the bandages on my hands and remember how she left me with no warning or explanation all those years ago.
I push forward, making my way up the elevator and to the apartment number listed in her file. I find myself second-guessing myself there again. But if she can lie her way into this job, then I can't be blamed for telling her off at least once.
Finally, I knock and listen to the shuffling behind the door. It swings open, only it's not Vanessa that appears behind it. Instead, I come face to face with a woman who has long brown hair and pale skin. She looks surprised to see me there.
"Can I help you?"
"Who is it?" someone calls from over her shoulder.
My eyes dart hopelessly in the direction of the other voice, even though I know it's not Vanessa's either. The question is coming from a young girl, about ten or twelve, who's sitting at the kitchen table.
"I don't know." The woman who answered the door looks at me expectantly. "Well? Who are you?"
"I'm here to see Vanessa Lopez," I tell her, checking the file again to make sure I have the right address. "Is she here?"
"She's not home," the woman frowns. "But I can tell her you stopped by…if I know who you are."
"Dr. Joshua Ashford," I sigh. "Do you know when she'll be back?"
Her expression shifts into something that mirrors the way everyone was looking at me in the boardroom earlier. It's also a spot-on replica of the way Vanessa looked at me over lunch yesterday, eyes full of disappointment and resentment.
"Oh. It'syou," she says, crossing her arms. "You have some nerve showing up here."
I drop my head and scratch my chin. "I take it she told you about the job at Bardot. You know, for what it's worth, we seem to have very different views on exactly why I turned her down for the position. Actually, it wasn't even my call. I just shared my opinions about her with the hiring committee."
Another look I saw in Vanessa washes over the woman's face. This time it's one of rage and disbelief. "You'rethe reason she didn't get the job at Bardot?" she scoffs. "Isn't that just perfect? First, you break her heart in college during one of the worst times of her life. Which, as her friend, I've had to listen to her lament about for years. Then when she's finally over you and up for this amazing opportunity, you ruin that for her too? Unbelievable."
My mouth drops for a moment, wondering if Vanessa has put her own spin on what happened to everyone she knows. At least I'm honest about how I treat women. But apparently she's a bigger liar than I thought.
"I don't know what she told you," I sigh. "But Vanessa was the one who broke up with me. No, actually. She didn't break up with me. She just stopped returning my calls."
I expect the woman to recoil, realizing her mistake. Or at worst, accuse me of being the liar. But my explanation only seems to make her feel more justified in her anger.
"Vanessa stopped returning your calls because she found out you were cheating on her," she hisses. "And at the worst possible time too. You were one of the only people she had to turn to, but when she tried to do that…it seems you were already turning to other women behind her back. So, surely you can understand why you're not exactly welcome around here."
