Knitting in the City 01 Neanderthal Seeks Human (45 page)

I was standing at his kitchen counter, drinking a really delicious latte from one of those marvels of modern mechanics one-touch espresso makers and eating a cherry and cheese Danish by seven twenty. At seven forty we were walking to work, a short six block stroll, holding hands and talking about the day ahead.

Since I had tutoring on Thursdays, we made arrangements to go out again Friday night. He kissed me goodbye at the entrance to the building, leaving me wobbly headed and kneed, at seven fifty eight. I was in the elevator at eight on the dot.

What a difference a day makes.

I was still smiling dazedly as I walked down the hall to my office, not really noticing anyone or anything. I sat behind my desk and mindlessly shuffled through the folders. I didn’t yet want to lose myself in spreadsheets so I opted to read through the pile of memos threatening to spill off my desk. It would allow me to continue to revel in all the warm and silky feelings from the previous night and morning.

The first ten or so were actually about my new billing software. The last memo suggested moving the conversation to email. This was typical. Most conversations were initiated via hard-copy memo. After they were determined to be benign in nature, they would move to email. All memos were to be shredded after they were read.

As he was responsible for the private clients, most of Steven’s internal correspondence was hard-copy. Since I was responsible for the corporate clients, most of mine was electronic.

I sifted through the correspondence quickly but then my attention was abruptly ensnared when I spied both my name and Quinn’s listed together in a printed copy of an email. I’d never received a printed copy of an email before and my gaze moved to the email address of the sender. I recognized it as one of the French Tweedle Dee lawyers I’d met on my second day. At first I skimmed the email but then, after the second sentence, forced myself to start at the beginning and really, truly read it:

Hi Betty,

Per Mr. Sullivan’s request and as discussed during our phone conversation, Jean and I have consulted on the matter of Ms. Morris at length. It is our opinion that Mr. Sullivan’s best course of action would be to terminate Ms. Morris’ employment as soon as is feasible (without interrupting operations). In such cases as these, it is not unusual or unwarranted to offer a large severance package and release her from the non-compete agreement she signed upon initiation of the position.

The reason for termination should not be stated explicitly to Ms. Morris nor inferred/alluded to in any documentation in order to mitigate risk for future recompense. Furthermore, we advise that Mr. Sullivan not be charged with conducting the dismissal interview. I’ve taken the liberty of cc-ing Mr. Davies and his administrator to this email as it is our recommendation that he handle the matter as Mr. Sullivan’s designee.

The other option is for Ms. Morris to resign her position.  In either case, we’ve drafted a release form which Ms. Morris should sign and which
, regardless of future outcomes, should, as much as is feasible or possible and to the extent allowable by law, absolve Cypher Systems from any related future litigation. I recommend that she sign the release as a condition for receiving the severance.

Please let us know if Mr. Sullivan decides to proceed so that we may move to nullify the non-compete agreement. Likely, Ms. Morris will have great difficulty finding new employment until it is expunged.

Henry LeDuc, J.D.

“Have you shown this to him?
Asked him about it?”

I shook my head and chewed on my thumbnail, staring over Elizabeth’s shoulder at nothing in particular.

We were in the Starbucks four blocks away from my building. As soon as I found the email I used the dratted cell phone to call her and beg her to meet me for lunch. As it turned out, I woke her up at home and she immediately left to meet me for coffee. As such, she was dressed in pajamas and boots.

“I have to be honest, Janie. I don’t speak lawyer gibberish so I’m not really sure what this says. But,” Elizabeth reached for and held my hand, drawing my attention to her, “I think you should ask him about it before you jump to any conclusions.”

I swallowed, “I know. I will.”

Elizabeth’s frown deepened, “How did you get a copy of this? Did they accidentally email it to you?”

“No, it was with my memos on my desk. Someone must’ve…” I blinked, my eyes losing focus again, then I shuddered my lids.

Of course.

“What? What is it?”

“Olivia.” Blood drained from my face even as heat spread up my neck, “I found Olivia
, Carlos’ assistant, in my office yesterday morning. She must have left it there.”

“The one who gives you dirty looks at work? Any chance
it’s fake then?”

“I don’t think so.” I debated the theory for a moment but dismissed the possibility, “It’s real. She just wanted me to find it.”

Elizabeth rolled her lips into her mouth and between her teeth, surveying me. Finally she said, “After everything you’ve told me about him, about Quinn, I seriously doubt he wants to fire you.”

I nodded and was surprised to find that I agreed with Elizabeth’s assessment, “I don’t believe it either.”

She smiled, a wry hopeful smile, “So, does that mean, despite this strange email and its indecipherable but damning contents, you trust Quinn?”

I nodded again without thinking and spoke-thought my words, “It does. I do.” I met her clear blue eyes, “I do trust him. I think that there has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Yay!” Elizabeth’s smile was full and immediate; she squeezed my hand, “Although I don’t advocate love as a rule, yay for you and Quinn!”

My head tilted to the side in a very Quinn-like expression before I could stop the movement, “What- love- yay for- what are you talking about?”

“You and Quinn-” Elizabeth sipped at her mocha with whip, licking off a residual creamy mustache, “You are in love, Janie.”

“I’m not in love! I’m in lust, I’m in deep infatuation, I’m in- in- in definite
a lot of like
with Quinn but I’m not…”

Was I in love?

Though I loathed to admit it, it was a distinct possibility.

I loved being around Quinn. I loved talking to him. I loved his laugh and, at times, his bossiness. I loved his self-doubt and loved his determination. I loved that he seemed to be changing, wanted to change, even as I was changing. I loved that we were growing into something new, together. I loved trusting him. I loved making love to him… like, really loved making love to him.

If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck and loves like a duck…

Well, Thor!

My ears were suddenly ringing.

Elizabeth wiggled in her seat and wagged her eyebrows, “You
looooove
him.”

“You don’t even believe in love.” I leveled her with a
severe glare, hoping to quell the unexpected dawn of realization. If I could just think about it a little more without Elizabeth’s wagging eyebrows I might be able to analyze the situation with the pragmatism it deserved.

She shook her head and adverted her gaze from mine, “You know that’s not true. I believe in
one
love,
fist
love.”

I knew not to press her on this point or try to dissuade her from this belief
, especially in relation to herself. I knew Elizabeth’s history, knew her feelings on the subject and I didn’t want to make her hash through a topic which was so painful for her.

I tried to make my argument relevant only to the present situation, “What about Jon, I loved Jon.”

“No you didn’t. You… tolerated Jon in much the same way ‘tolerance’ is taught in the workplace or at school.” Her mouth curved downward as though she were tasting something unpleasant, “I think you loved him like one loves their fellow man, but you never felt more for him than tolerance.”

“But Quinn wants- he- he’s my boss and now he’s my boyfriend? And then there is that apartment in his building. I promised him I would take you to see it.”

She shrugged, “We’ll go tomorrow afternoon, before you meet Quinn for your date.” And then she was wagging her eyebrows again.

I held my breath for a moment then sighed. My forehead landed in my palm and I directed my question to the table, “What am I going to do?”

Elizabeth cleared her throat then brushed her fingertips against my wrist, “Well, you are going to go back to work and not let Ms. Olivia Von Evilpants think she made any impact on your relationship with Quinn. Tonight you’ll go tutor down on the south side. Tomorrow we’ll go look at the swanky apartment. Then, after, when you see the man you love- aka Quinn Sullivan, aka Sir McHotpants- for your date, you’ll ask him about the email.”

She made it sound so simple, so reasonable, so possible.

I could only nod, agree, and hope she was right.

~*~

It all went according to plan, until it didn’t.

I did go back to work. I did ignore Olivia even though she seemed over eager to
throw herself in my path and speak to me for the rest of the day. I did go to tutoring that night and I successfully avoided thinking about being
in love-
in love with Quinn- until he messaged me his nightly text, which had turned somewhat math-mushy recently:
If I were a function you would be my asymptote. I always tend towards you

Then followed it with:
I miss you.

I allowed
myself to enjoy it and wonder that I may have fallen in the pit of love with this man. For it was, truly, a pit. It was dark and unknown. It was scary and I was surrounded on all sides by it.

Therefore, in an effort to avoid dark and definitely frightening pits, I made up my mind to make up my mind about the ‘
in love
’ question when I saw him next.

The next morning I was feeling better about the
lawyer-speak email. I was feeling calmer and more certain. By mid-afternoon I was actually looking forward to taking Elizabeth to see the apartment and by the time I met her at the building I was trying to contain my pre-Quinn-date excitement.

It all went wrong when I inserted the key into the apartment door. Before I could turn it the door adjacent to it opened and Quinn bolted out of it, his expression thunderous, and his chest bare.

That’s right. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Both Elizabeth and I took a startled step backward just as he
, also, rocked backward on his feet, his expression instantly mirroring ours.

“Janie.” My name was a breathless whoosh, his hand reached behind him and he grabbed for the door he’d just exited. 

“I-” my eyes moved to his naked chest then lower to his jeans and bare feet. I lifted my gaze to his again and I could sense Elizabeth behind me shift to the side as she tried to peer into the apartment behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn asked the question without malice or accusation; he sounded genuinely astonished.

“I’m- You made me promise to show Elizabeth the apartment.”

His attention shifted from me for the first time since we almost collided in the hall and flickered to where Elizabeth was standing. He blinked at her.

“So, Quinn…” Elizabeth
’s voice sounded at my shoulder and didn’t lack malice or accusation, “Who is in there with you and why the hell don’t you have a shirt on?”

“I-” Quinn visibly flinched
, either surprised by Elizabeth’s words or the harsh tenor of her tone.

Before he could respond Elizabeth stepped forward and pointed to a mark on his neck, “Is that a bite mark?”

His hand automatically lifted to his neck.

Elizabeth turned to me, her voice rising, “Did you give that to him?”

I shook my head. Everything was happening so fast, there were too many data points and I couldn’t absorb any of them, they were scattered on the floor, running away from me like legless teeth. I could only look mutely between Quinn and Elizabeth and the door he was trying to close.

Elizabeth turned back to him, pointed to another mark in the middle of his chest, “And that is a cigarette burn- what the hell?” she was shrieking. “I
know
Janie didn’t give you that.”

His eyes found mine and I saw fear, “Listen- listen for a minute- you both need to leave- you shouldn’t even be here
, where the hell are your guards-” Quinn seemed to be trying to collect his wits and his voice was laced with firm yet panicked urgency.

The door behind him swung all the way open and
, in that moment, my brain and heart stopped.

Jem was behind him, dressed only in her underwear, smoking a cigarette
, a hard smile curving her lips.

“Hey big sister.”

Quinn glanced over his shoulder distractedly then almost jumped into the hall, “What the hell?”

My mouth opened and I heard something break
, a small snapping noise, in the back of my mind followed by an intense rush of physical pain starting behind my eyes and in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Quinn and Elizabeth and Jem were all talking but I heard nothing.