Much to my displeasure I have to be at work early on Monday and it’s certainly not going to be as fun as the past few have been. As expected, no Post-its or pastries from Ryan to welcome me into my cube of doom either. This is going to be a rough day. I wish I had some other distraction from my work besides Scrabble and Facebook. I do my best speed walking to get from the elevator to my desk without seeing anyone; however, my efforts do not get past Adam.
“I’m assuming everything went fine considering I didn’t hear from you?” He questions me and plops down in my desk chair as I’m putting my purse away.
“Quite the opposite.” I remove my sunglasses and expose a set of swollen eyes.
“Holy Evander Holyfield, what happened?” he gasps.
I put my glasses back on and could care less that Maureen from H.R. is giving me looks from her smelly cube. “He broke up with me.”
“He didn’t,” Adam responds instantly. “You’re lying.”
I wave for Adam to get out of my chair, but he doesn’t. “Do I look like I’m lying?”
“Did you tell him everything?” he inquires with an accusatory tone like I
must
have done something wrong.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him you have no intention of marrying Marc?”
“Yes.”
“Well what gives then?” he asks me.
“Apparently I’m not the only Brutus to his Caesar, and he’s all ‘been there done that, didn’t work out before, sorry.’”
“He’s wild about you and you know it,” Adam tries to reassure me.
“I don’t know anything anymore. I know that my ex-boyfriend comes back into my life after I’ve vowed to get over him and move on. And I know that he decided to propose to me months after I’d stopped wishing he would.” I sigh heavily and lean against my desk. “Oh, and I know that Ryan has no time for someone as useless and deceitful as me. That spot on his dance card has apparently been filled already.”
Adam gets to his feet. “Let’s take a walk.”
“I am not leaving this cube until five o’clock. So if you care about me at all you will bring me a bowl of mushroom barley and a demi-baguette around twelve thirty.”
He places his hand on the back of my jeans and yanks upwards. “Get up,” he says as I stand up with my glasses on and my shoulders slumped.
“Adam, I don’t want to see him. Please, I love you. Leave me alone today.”
“He’s not here, little kitty. He and Dave and the design team are out all day,” he informs me.
“What? Really?” I squeal with disappointment.
As much as I dreaded seeing Ryan today, I really need to see him. The fact that we work together gives me an advantage I wouldn’t otherwise have in a typical breakup. The opportunity of chance encounters. However, it looks like that isn’t going to be the case today. How can I begin fighting for what I want with no opponent?
“Really,” Adam confirms as I follow him to the elevators and then outside for some fresh air. “So exactly what happened?” He wants to know and he deserves to know, but I do not have the energy to relive the story right now.
“Honestly, I don’t have it in me at the moment.”
“Excuse me?” He places his hands on his hips. “Muster it up.”
“I’m emotionally exhausted and I just can’t drudge it all up again right now,” I tell him. “I can’t afford to get all emotional at the office.”
“Well you look like shit, so I believe you, but could you at least give me the Post-it note version? I’m dying over here.”
I spy a bench in front of our building and walk toward it as Adam follows. If I’m going to host yet another pity party in my honor I may as well be seated.
“He’s had his heart broken before,” I begin, “and he doesn’t feel like having it done twice. He thinks we should take some time so that I can ‘work things out’ and join Two-Faced Tramps Anonymous in the meantime,” I say methodically.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the response I’m getting.”
“Getting from who?”
“Julie came over last night and I spewed out every detail of my recent, indecent past and we had a love fest.”
“Good for you,” he commends me with a silent handclap.
“Thank you.”
“So what’s Julie’s take on it?” Adam asks and leans back on his hands.
“Gloves on, pride off.”
“Not a bad plan,” he says.
“You think?”
“Yes,” he says. “Aren’t I the one who sent you over there last night in the first place? You should absolutely wipe this pus off your Noxzema-moisturized face and let him know how weepy and pathetic you are without him.”
I grab Adam in a huge embrace and thank him before heading back to work.
“As much as I was avoiding Ryan this morning, I was sort of hoping to run into him and just see what would happen,” I tell Adam as he’s tapping the button for the elevator.
“I hardly think he’d be anything but kind, Kat. He’s not like Marc.”
“That’s for sure,” I add. “When will the design team be back?”
“Not until late afternoon, if at all,” he says, still tapping away. “I could get crow’s feet waiting for this thing.”
We finally exit onto our floor, and I can see Brooke leaving a note for me on my desk as I round the corner. “Hey, Brooke,” I say.
She crumples the note. “Can you take a conference call with Chase at one o’clock? I have to leave early today,” she says as more of an order than a question.
“Sure, what’s up?” I ask her and she looks at Adam before speaking.
He looks at me, then back at her, and takes an uncomfortably long time to get the hint that he should leave. Finally, he waves his hand in front of her. “I don’t need the face, just say go away.” And with that he disappears.
Brooke waits until he’s out of sight before explaining. “I think Drew is planning to meet
her
at our house today of all places, so I’m planning on being there as well,” she tells me with little emotion.
“What?” I gasp.
She tosses the crumpled note into my garbage can. “You heard me, Kat. So I need you to take the conference call for me.”
“Brooke, do you really think that’s a good idea? What are you going to do if you walk in on them?”
“That’s my plan,” she says, annoyed by my unsupportive response and starts walking toward her office.
I follow behind her. “Brooke, let me go with you, something like this shouldn’t be done alone,” I offer.
“Thanks, that’s generous of you, but I’m fine.”
“Brooke… STOP!” I yell, eliciting stares from at least three nearby cubes.
She halts her stride and turns to face me in front of her office door.
I swallow and begin talking much quieter. “Look, I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through but I do know that you could use a friend right now,” I say. “If you insist on doing this, please let me come with you.”
She checks the time on her phone. “Fine,” she says exasperated. “Meet me in the lobby at noon,” she states and walks into her office.
I scurry back to my desk, dial Carrie’s extension and ask her to tear herself away from YouTube long enough to reschedule the Chase conference call. A moment later Adam texts me.
WTF?
He inquires.
What?
I play innocent.
Spill it.
He demands.
Just work stuff, u freak.
I text.
Really, or Drews affair?
He replies.
You suck.
I say.
Why didn’t u tell me??
He has the nerve to ask me.
It’s a secret!!
I say.
My interoffice phone line rings and I see it’s Adam tired of texting. “How do you know?” I ask him immediately when I answer my phone.
“I know everything.”
“She confided in Dave obviously?” I assume.
“And Dave in me. Aren’t you proud I didn’t tell you?”
“You just did, fool,” I remind him. “You didn’t know I knew about it when you just texted me.”
“Whatever. So what’s the big secret meeting today for?” he asks excitedly.
Since I despise Drew, and Adam already knows that, I make the simple decision to fill him in on our
Cheaters
style entrapment this afternoon.
“I’m coming with,” he declares.
“Are you out of your freaking skull?!” I whisper-shout into the phone. “She will
kill
me if she finds out you know, regardless of whether it was Dave who told you or not. Keep your trap shut,” I threaten him.
“Dammit! Fine, but don’t pull your little ‘I’m too sad and rejected to call Adam’ routine like you did last night. I want details on this one. Train wrecks like this don’t happen every day, you know.”
“Good Lord, you need a hobby,” I say and hang up on him.
At five minutes to twelve I head down to the lobby and see that Brooke is already there waiting for me, showing no appreciation for my promptness. We walk to her car without speaking a word, both because I have no clue what to say in a situation like this, and because she’s probably trying to forget that I’m with her. As a matter of fact, she barely even acknowledges me. When we reach her car I can see that the front passenger seat is littered with boxes, paperwork, empty fast food bags and DVDs. She doesn’t even make the slightest gesture to move any of it out of the way for me, so I awkwardly force myself into the back seat.
Brooke lives in an area called River West, which is just west of the Chicago River but still close to downtown. She and Drew bought a townhouse in a development there about a year ago. As we approach the complex she starts to talk in a low, barely recognizable voice.
“He’s not here yet.”
I peek around from the back seat. “How do you know?”
“I don’t see his car.”
“What if they took a cab?”
“He’s too cheap,” she quickly replies.
We sit in silence for about ten minutes during which I applaud being shunned to the back seat because it allows me to text Adam without appearing insensitive.
Sitting outside her house in car.
I type.
Crouching Brooke, hidden Drew.
He says.
Exactly.
I reply.
What now?
He asks, dying to be crouching next to me.
In backseat, texting u, feeling more ridiculous than I have in long time.
I confess.
That says a lot.
He adds.
Just then Brooke sinks down into her seat and remains very still like a preying animal. I’m not sure why we’re hiding because if he sees her car he’ll obviously know she’s either in it or in the house. I start to regret my decision to be the supportive friend and prepare for my approaching nausea.
“It’s him,” she whispers as though he might hear, but at least she’s
acknowledged my involvement
. “A
nd someone else is in the car.”
“Can you tell who it is?” I whisper back.
“Not yet.”
I grab the headrest of the front passenger seat and scootch myself forward a little. “What is the plan by the way?” I wonder, hoping she’ll say something like “drive away” or “confront him via email” from back at the office.
“I’m going to bust them as soon as they get out of the car.”
Crap.
She tilts her head backward while keeping her eyes on his approaching car. “As soon as they’re in the house I’m going in after them,” she informs me.
“Do you want me to go with you or wait in the car?” I ask, and pray she tells me to wait in the car.
“Wait here.”
Yes!
WTF??
Adam interrupts my panic mode with a text.
He’s driving up, someone’s with him.
I reply.
As Brooke and I see Drew’s car get closer, we also notice that our embarrassing excuse for a cover has been blown. I watch in horror as Drew and his passenger, whom I recognize immediately from Brooke’s unfortunate bowling alley bridal shower, make direct eye contact with us as they drive by.
OMG it’s the slut from her bridal shower!!
I frantically text Adam.
Whoretencia???
He spells out.
YES!
I answer.
What r u doing??
Adam asks.
Freaking out!
I type.
Just as I look up from my phone Drew peels away in his car, causing Brooke to accelerate, hot on his trail. Their residential development is in a round formation and has a main drive that circles the entire group of townhomes with only one exit. I’m literally holding on to the little handle bar above the window, the one I hang my dry-cleaning on, because she is driving so fast and seriously testing the turning radius on her car.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” I ask, frightened.