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I open my mouth to respond then abruptly shut it. Could he be right? After all the pains I’ve taken to protect my identity, to expose that identity on my own terms, do I ultimately have no control?
“That’s what I thought.” He stands up and starts retrieving his things.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” he barks. “I can’t be here. I need to think about what to do. I need to think about what this means for Charlie.”
“Because you think I could ruin Engage?” I gasp.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I just…I need to go.” He yanks open the door and walks out, not even bothering to look at me as he leaves.
I stare at the door, willing it to open even though I know that’s impossible. He isn’t going to change his mind. He isn’t coming back. The only question is what will he do now? Will he tell Charlie, ask him to let me go because my involvement might put Engage in jeopardy? Will he spare me the embarrassment and ask me to resign? Will he ever look at me again?
God, I’ve been so stupid. I can’t blame him for being upset about what this could mean for Engage. After all, I wondered that myself. But I really thought I could keep my two worlds separate. I even thought he might accept both those worlds, since he seemed curious about my affinity for romance novels. Liked my passion in the bedroom. But he isn’t any different than anyone else. Romances are fine to read, not to write. Writing them makes me untouchable.
That hurts more than I expected it to. I’ve always known there were people who would think like that. It’s why I decided to use a pen name in the first place, because I didn’t want to be judged. I’d been starting to think it wouldn’t matter to Chris, because he seems to accept everything about me. From my fascination with tires to my style to my love of books and writing, it felt like he really saw me, not just the package I come in. But now that he knows who I really am, well, apparently I don’t make the cut.
The tears flow freely now, as the hollow feeling unlike anything I’ve ever known seeps into my chest. Before Chris, I had been only vaguely aware of a void in my life. I knew something was missing, someone was missing, but it didn’t consume me. It barely even registered, because I’ve always been able to fill that void with books, my own or those written by others. But now, now that I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to live without that void, I recognize it for what it is. Emptiness. There’s a part of me that was empty, incomplete, without someone to love in my life, and what was once a minor crack in the road that I could skip over at will is now a gaping hole, and I’m plunging to the bottom.
I’m not sure how long I sit staring at the door, lost, before my cell phone brings me out of my stupor. I watch my hand reach for it even though I don’t consciously decide to do so. Harper. Again, without thought, I answer the call.
“Hello?” I choke.
Harper exhales audibly. “He left, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Lisa,” she says. “I’m sure learning the truth was hard enough, but I undoubtedly made it worse.”
“It’s not your fault,” I assure her. “I could have told him earlier. I was afraid. I was putting it off.”
“What did he object to? Your being involved with me or your writing?”
“Everything, I think. But mostly that my writing could have a negative impact on his brother’s company.”
“What does Charlie have to do with it?”
“Engage is Charlie’s company. I work for Charlie.”
“Well, that certainly makes things complicated.” Harper huffs. “But what about your pen name? That’s why you’ve been so determined to keep it, so it didn’t interfere with the other work you were doing. That didn’t diffuse things?”
“Chris said if he could figure it out, other people could, too.”
“He only figured it out because he saw me. It’s not like he went sleuthing and found anything.”
“True, but if he knows you, then so do many of the people involved with Engage. Charlie, Erik, Jason,” I rattle off. “I suppose he’s scared if they connect the dots, others will, too. He’s worried about what investors and customers will think if that happens. I can’t blame him.” I sob.
“All right, that’s enough,” barks Harper. “I will not have you taking the blame for his insecurity.”
“Doesn’t he have a right to worry? Engage is Charlie’s dream. I can’t blame him for wanting to protect that.”
“Protect it, sure,” says Harper. “But why would he need to protect it from you? Have you used your pen name at work?”
“No.”
“Have you tried to market or sell any of your books through work?”
“Of course not!”
