Exquisite Betrayal (15 page)

“
Great. Well, if I get this job, I’ll
be great. Otherwise, not so good, if you want to know the
truth.”

“
Go on.”

I look at my hands that are clasped in my
lap. I don’t think it’s a good idea to look at R.T. right now
because, if I do, I’m sure the old Hoover Dam will burst right
open.

“
Yeah, well, I lost my job at the deli
after I got home, and well, things are pretty rough financially.”
That’s all I want to tell her, however she keeps prodding me until
I give it all up. “I’m working a temporary job, but it only pays
minimum wage. I have my school loans to repay, but since I can’t
really make ends meet, my credit card is maxed out and I’m behind
on my rent. So I’m hoping that this works out ‘cause, if it
doesn’t, well, I’m pretty much fucked.”

“
Why didn’t you call me?”

“
For what?”

“
Help.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I would never do
that.”

“
You don’t think after everything
you’ve done for me that I wouldn’t want to return the favor? I
could help you, Fallon.”

“
Uh-uh. I won’t take that kind of
help.”

“
What about a loan?”

“
Maybe after tomorrow, this discussion
won’t be necessary.” I didn’t want to talk about this with her. It
was embarrassing enough to live it, but to have to talk about it is
awful.

“
Okay. But if for some
reason
—
”

“
Yeah, okay.”

“
So, have you spoken to Ryland at
all?”

This dinner has just gone from sheer
humiliating to straight fucking hell. I pinch my lips together and
shake my head.

“
He never called you?” She seems
shocked.

Sometimes, you think you’re getting over
something, and that your life is taking a turn for the better, but
then someone comes and throws you a fucking curve ball that flies
at you so fast that you don’t have time to get out of the way
before it smashes right into your skull, blinding you with the
pain. That’s what this conversation is doing to me.

“
Jesus, Fallon. Don’t answer. And I’m
sorry I brought it up. I only thought…” She shrugs.

I smile weakly and nod. “It’s okay. All’s
good.” I sniff and bend my head so she won’t see the tears that
bubble out of my lids. I push them back, yet a few escape, much to
my chagrin. I despise feeling weak and thoughts of Ryland bring me
to my knees. Fuck him for making me feel like this. I hope his
stupid wiener rots off!

***

The next day, I meet with Ruth Conner,
Kristie Whitley and her team at Critics Abound, and we mesh from
hello. Well, I mesh with Kristie. I’m not so sure about Ruth. She’s
another story altogether; as in, aggressive and pushy. I get the
feeling she’s really hard to work for, too. Ruth is only there for
the first half of the interview, though.

“
Um, at the risk of blowing any
opportunity I have for employment here, how close do the literary
critics actually have to work with Ms. Conner?” I need the answer
to this because I know in my heart that woman would eat me
alive.

Kristie assures me my contact with her would
be minimal. “I’m her direct report, Fallon. You would have very
little to do with her. All your work would be done with and through
me and my team.”

“
Good to know.” I smile and breathe
easier. It’s like I’ve been made for this position. After the Ruth
part, there isn’t really a formal interview.

“
Fallon, I have to say, when we got
your resume, I was expecting the routine thing, but you’re a nice
surprise. I’m more than impressed. I’ve gone back and looked at all
your reviews and they’re professionally done, hitting on everything
we like to see. We want you on our team.
I
want you on this team.”

It’s hard to hide my surprise. I’m prepared
to sell myself, however now I want to laugh and then hug her.

“
Really?”

“
Really. So when can you move out
here? I know it’s a lot more expensive in San Francisco than it is
in South Carolina, so we’re prepared to help subsidize your rent.
We’ll even help you locate a place to live. How does that sound?
Oh, and I almost forgot. Let’s go over our offer.”

I sit there, hardly able to absorb what
she’s saying because I’m blown away.

“
Fallon, you’re looking at me like
you’re in the weeds. Is everything okay?”

“
My wheels are spinning.” Then I laugh
hard, like I haven’t laughed in months.

“
I take it that’s a good
sign?”

“
A very good sign.”

“
So, how does January third sound for
your starting date? That would give you a chance to gather up your
things, close out your home in South Carolina and make the drive
after the holidays are over.”

“
It sounds perfect!” I have to grasp
the arms of the chair to stop myself from leaping up and doing one
of those cheerleading jumps. I’m that excited.

Then Kristie looks at me and asks, “I know
your favorite author is R.T. Sinclair. It’s obvious from your blog.
I’d like you to do a feature on her, if you can. Do you think
that’s possible?”

I know it’s possible, but I’m confused. “I
thought I’d be doing reviews.”

“
You will, but this is something new
we want to try… sort of a spotlight on an author. I’m sure you’ve
seen them before. We want to start doing this every month. We’re
thinking of adding this later in the year, and I thought it would
be a good chance for you to spread your creative and journalistic
wings, so to speak. You game?”

Hell, yeah, I’m game. I leave out the small
detail that I’m a friend of R.T.’s and that the interview shouldn’t
be a problem. On the way back to the hotel, I text her to share the
good news. Then, I tell the world that I’m moving to San
Francisco.

R.T. takes me to dinner again that night,
but this time it’s to celebrate. It’s a different atmosphere from
last night’s; more festive and fun filled. That is, until I bring
up the interview.

Her face morphs into something odd;
something I can’t discern. There’s something off about her now, and
I don’t know why.

“
You know, when I started this whole
thing, I didn’t want to get into the interview thing. That’s why
you never see me on those TV shows and all. And if I tell you no,
I’ll feel like I’m hurting a dear friend.”

“
Oh, I didn’t know you felt so
strongly about it. I would never ask you to do something that goes
against your grain. Don’t feel bad if you can’t do it.” I’m
disappointed, although I understand.

She looks at me and shakes her head. “You
know, Fallon, I want you to do really well in this job. And if this
interview will help, then everything else be damned. I’ll do it,
but you can’t ask me about my love life. How does that sound?”

“
Perfect. But R.T., I want you to know
something, I honor our friendship and everything you tell me
outside of that interview will always stay that way. I’m not the
kind of person that will run to the press and blather on about you.
Besides, my boss said it was something they would start later in
the year. So let’s see what happens. It may never even come to
anything.”

“
Okay. I know I can trust you. So tell
me about your moving plans.”

For the rest of the meal, we chat about what
I’m going to do for the next month. When I leave, I promise to call
her before I head back this way. I’m excited, but a bit anxious
about my big move here. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? I
shove those thoughts away and head back to my hotel.

Three months later and I still can’t
get her out of my head. My life’s gone to shit without her and I
deserve it for the way I treated her. I can’t seem to pull it
together to write a damn consistent paragraph, either. I feel like
Jack Torrence in
The Shining
,
writing, “
All work and no play makes Jack
a dull boy
,” over and over and over. Maybe I should
write an entire novel saying repeatedly, “
R.T. Sinclair is a dickface and fucked over the nicest girl
in the world
.”

Ah, bloody fucking hell. Who am I kidding?
That wouldn’t help, either. I’m a shit. All this time and I thought
Iris and Will were the jackholes, but who’s the king of them all
now? I walk over to look in the mirror and my gut contorts with
disgust.

Staring at my reflection does nothing for
me, so when the phone rings, I let it tear me away from my own pity
party, glad to see that it’s Tilly.

“
Yeah.”

“
Stop whining. I’m sick of you already
and you only said one word,” she tears into me.

“
So hang up.”

“
Sod off. Listen, the turkey day thing
is next week and I have some brilliant news. Wanna come to
Cali?”

“
I’m in Cali.”

“
You know what I mean. You need to get
a life and get over yourself already. Honestly, Ryland Thomas, if
you feel that badly about it, then call her. You sit there and pine
away like some Jane Austen character, but you don’t do a damn thing
about it. Oh, and by the way, your writing’s gone to shit. So get
out of your self-imposed prison and come to my place for a few
days.”

“
You can be a pain in my arse, you
know?”

“
Yep. So?”

I groan, but give in. If I don’t, Tills will
drive me insane. “All right. I’ll be up on Tuesday.”

“
Perfect. And be prepared to have some
fun.”

***

Tilly is so completely exuberant. I can’t
figure her out. She greets me as if she has something positively
exciting to share, hugging the life right out of me.

“
What the bloody hell,
Tills?”

“
I’ve missed my brother. That’s all.
Can’t I hug you anymore?”

I shrug it off as one of her crazy
moments.

“
So where’s what’s his name? The love
of your life?”

“
Who?”

“
You know. The Vegas guy?”

“
That ought to tell you something now.
We broke it off back in September. The bloke was a jealous
freak.”

“
Ah.”

“
That’s it? Ryland Thomas, do you even
realize you barely speak to me anymore? I haven’t seen you since
August. You’re my only living relative for Christ’s sake. What the
hell? You need to pull your head outta your arse and get it
together.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and scrub my scruffy
face. “I’m trying, Tills. I really am.”

She cocks her head and stares. “That bad,
huh?” she whispers.

“
Worse.”

“
Well, damn it all. Why didn’t you say
something?”

“
I don’t know. Couldn’t. Didn’t want
to.” I scrub my face again.

“
Are you in love with her
then?”

My breath’s gone in a rush. “I don’t
know that, either. We were together for just those few days and the
whole idea seems ludicrous. But she did something to me that…” I
try to swallow the brick that’s formed, although it takes a few
tries before I finally succeed. “I don’t
want
to be in love, I do know that.”

When Tilly laughs, my head snaps towards
her. “That’s wickedly brilliant, coming from the master of romance
novels.”

“
What’s that supposed to
mean?”

She laughs again. “Come on! You write all
those books about relationships and here you are trying to figure
out your own shit. Take a good, long look at your feelings. Do you
miss her? Do you want her back in your life? Would you do anything
to change the way things turned out? Have you ever kissed anyone
that made you feel the way she did? Can you ever imagine kissing
anyone like that again? What about the sex? Did it turn you inside
out? The answers to those questions will tell you what you need to
know.”

“
But I only knew her for a few
days!”

“
Who cares? Is there some kind of a
time stamp on love? Did someone come out and report that a study
showed ninety-nine point nine percent of those people that fell in
love only did so after two hundred and sixty eight days? We’re
talking about your feelings… your emotions, Ryland Thomas. Don’t
let your bloody stubborn head get in the way of your
heart.”

I let her words tumble through my brain for
a few seconds and then suddenly I realize it’s all hopeless. “Oh,
hell, Tilly. Who am I trying to fool? With the way I treated her,
she wouldn’t give me the time of day now. And I don’t blame
her.”

“
You won’t know if you don’t try. And
really, Ryland Thomas, do you want to stumble through life
thinking, ‘What if?’”

She makes a solid point.

That’s when my evil sister dumps it all on
me. “Besides, Fallon’s moving to San Fran in January.”

My heart thumps so viciously I’m sure Tills
can hear it. My eyes drill holes into hers. “What did you say?” I
whisper.

“
You heard me. She was hired by
Critics Abound.”

I can’t move. Fallon will be on the west
coast, not that far from me; only about three and a half hours.
Jesus C, help me.

“
What the fuck, Tilly! Why didn’t you
tell me? What should I do? Am I supposed to call her? And how long
have you known this?”