Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

MARLOW

I stayed in my office, unwilling to poke my head up. I wasn't sure if I was really fired or not. But if I was going to get canned, I was going to get as much done for Joshua's campaign as I could. I knew he would want to continue working with me. The other guys were stuffy old dicks according to him. Joshua had fuck-you money. He wouldn't care about breaking the contract. And there was nothing stopping me from accepting his business.

But they might claim the work product rule. I tapped my fingers on my desk, debating what I should do. Maybe I should accept the firing. I could walk away and start fresh with Joshua. I had plenty of ideas. Kyla walked in, closing the door behind her. She silently handed me a candy bar, an energy drink, and a box of tissues.

"Thank you." I smiled.

"What happened?" she asked.

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. "I don't know. It's all a mess right now. But I think it might be for the best," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What's for the best?" she asked. "What happened in there? Why are you crying? Who do I need to pepper spray?"

I grabbed a tissue, wiping away the fresh tears that threatened to fall. "He fired me."

Her mouth dropped open. "You're fired!"

"I was. Now, I'm not."

"What?" she gasped, shaking her head as she sat down. "What do you mean you were and now you aren't?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions before continuing. I opened the can and took a drink, feeling the sugary drink running over my tongue. It was exactly what I needed. This was why I couldn't imagine living without Kyla. She knew me better than I knew myself.

"I mean, one minute I thought I was being let go, but then it seemed like maybe there was a chance to salvage things. It's all so confusing." I paused, staring at the candy bar in my hands as if it held all the answers. I slowly tore it open and took a bite of the rich chocolate. It was the perfect blend of sweetness and saltiness. The rich chocolate melted on my tongue, leaving behind a hint of caramel. It was a comforting and indulgent treat, instantly calming me. I knew I shouldn't eat away my stress, but sometimes, a ridiculous dose of sugar was just what the doctor ordered.

"So, you're not fired?" she asked.

"No. Not yet."

"Who fired you?"

"Spencer," I answered.

She frowned. "But he hired you. He doesn't think you're doing a good job?"

"I don't know what's going on with him." I sighed. "Don't say anything, but he says he's quitting."

Once again, her mouth dropped open. "Are you serious? Because of you? Are the others that pissed about you being hired?"

"Kyla, I honestly have no idea what's going on," I said. "I don't know if this is because of us or if he's just freaking out."

Kyla leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concern. "Do you want to stay after everything that's happened? Is this because, well, you know."

Kyla and I had not outright discussed what happened between Spencer and me. She knew there was a thing, but it was no longer a thing. I didn't want to get into all the dirty details initially, but maybe she could help me understand what was happening.

"I don't know," I sighed. "He has been off since that night. Am I wrong? I know I'm not quite normal when it comes to sex."

"You are not wrong," she insisted. "You have every right to decide you don't want a casual relationship. I would think a man would appreciate that. You're not programmed that way. If he can't respect that, he can fuck off."

I smiled and took another bite of my candy bar. "Thank you. That's kind of how I felt, but with the way he's acting, I felt like I was wrong."

Kyla nodded, her expression sympathetic. "If Spencer can't handle it like an adult, then that reflects more on him than on you."

I sighed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders with Kyla's understanding words. She always had a way of putting things into perspective for me, even in the most chaotic of times. She was my best friend in the world. I felt bad that I depended on her so much.

As I finished the last bite of my candy bar, a sudden determination hit me. I couldn't let Spencer's erratic behavior dictate my future and potential opportunities. If he was going to leave the company, so be it.

"I'm going to finish the Powell job," I said. "If Spencer does leave, I'll see how things sit with the other partners. I believe they are blunt enough to tell me exactly how they feel. If they want me gone, we're gone."

"Works for me." She smiled. "Do you need anything else?"

"No. Thank you for the sugar. You know just what I need all the time."

She winked. "That's why you pay me the big bucks."

I laughed as she walked out the door. I took a deep breath and pulled up the Powell file. I was going to leave his buddy's file alone for now. I didn't want to take on a new job if I wasn't going to be at the company. Spencer had already stolen the water bottle file from me. This was exactly why I liked working alone. I didn't appreciate the cutthroat corporate world. I needed to be able to trust the people I worked with and not have to worry about them stealing my ideas and passing them off as their own.

I started jotting down notes when my door opened again. Kyla popped her head in. "Sorry," she said. "Rhett is on the phone. He said he called your cell, but you didn't answer. He wants to talk to you."

"Sure," I said. "I must have left my phone on silent."

A few seconds later, my office phone rang. "Hey," I answered.

"I'm going to go out of my mind," he said.

I laughed. "Sorry."

"Is the invitation to visit still open?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied.

"Good, because I'm on my way." He laughed.

"You are? Are you driving?"

"Yes."

"Are you supposed to be driving?" I asked.

"It's fine. I'm just not supposed to do a lot of walking on it."

"Sounds great! I'll make us dinner."

After we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, a rush of excitement filled me. Rhett was coming to visit. That was good news.

I quickly tidied up my office. My mind raced with thoughts of what to cook for dinner. I spent the next two hours busting ass before I packed up to leave.

I stopped by the market to get Rhett's favorite beer along with some snacks I knew he would appreciate. I was going to make chicken parmesan for dinner, with garlic bread on the side. I hummed to myself as I strolled through the aisles, picking out the ingredients I needed. It felt good to have something to look forward to amidst the chaos at work.

When I got home, I immediately started cooking, the familiar motions soothing my frayed nerves after the hellish day. The sound of the doorbell made me jump, and I hurried to answer it. Rhett stood there with a grin on his face, despite the crutches he leaned on.

"Hey there," he said, leaning in for a hug.

"It's so good to see you moving around," I said, moving out of the way to let him inside.

"No shit," he said. "I'm happy to get out of there."

"What did the doctor say about the leg?"

I showed him to the couch, afraid he might fall.

"I have physiotherapy several times a week," he said.

I noticed his spirits were noticeably better now that he was a bit more mobile. Plus, he was thrilled to be out of our parents' house and have a change of scenery. I couldn't begin to imagine having to live at home again. Not just live there, but he was stuck in the house day in and day out.

"Dinner will be ready soon," I told him. "I'm going to change."

I quickly went to my room and changed into my typical lounge clothes. "Want a beer?" I asked him.

"Please."

I got us each a cold beer and went to check on dinner. I quickly set the table. "Come and sit," I told him. "I'm not about to serve you."

"Trust me, I think I'm good on being served."

He got to his feet and grabbed one crutch to support some of his weight. I delivered the meal to the table and sat down. I was trying my best to be my normal upbeat self, but the day was still weighing me down. I couldn't shake off the situation with Spencer. I wasn't even angry with him. I was genuinely worried.

"What's got you all doom and gloom?" he asked, cutting into his chicken.

I sighed, pushing my food around on my plate. "It's Spencer."

Rhett raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

I hesitated, not wanting to delve into all the messy details of hooking up with Spencer but needing to vent. "I thought we were becoming friends. He's had my back, and I thought we were on the same page. But now he's changed his tune. One minute, things are hunky dory, and the next, he's biting everyone's heads off."

"Hunky dory?" Rhett asked, arching an eyebrow. "You're turning into Mom."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll take that as a compliment." I brushed past the comment and continued to vent about Spencer, telling Rhett about his erratic behavior and the confusion it was causing me. About firing me one minute and asking me to stay the next.

Rhett listened patiently, scarfing down his dinner and finishing off his beer. As I talked, I got up and got him a fresh beer. Finally, he put down his fork and looked at me seriously. "Marlow, you need to chill out. Spencer is an enigma. Always has been. His folks did him wrong a lot growing up. He learned how to fend for himself, and a lot of the time, that meant doing the hurting before someone got a chance to hurt him . He's not a bad guy, Marlow. Just a bad friend. He doesn't have the tools to be anything but what he is."

I didn't want to believe that. Everyone could change, and grow, and evolve, even someone as twisted up and bitter as Spencer. "People can change, Rhett. They just need someone to show them the way."

Rhett shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Maybe. But you can't be the one to save him. He has to want to save himself first."

Despite Rhett's words of caution, I couldn't shake off the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I could help Spencer see things differently. I finished my meal in silence, lost in thought about how to approach the situation with Spencer. As Rhett cleared his plate, he gave me a knowing look, as if he could see the wheels turning in my head.

"Go have a seat," I said. "I'll clean up."

"I can carry my plate to the sink," he said.

"No thanks." I grinned. "I don't want to clean up a shattered plate."

He made his way to the couch. After I quickly cleaned up, I joined him in the living room.

"How long are you staying?" I asked him.

"Are you kicking me out already?" he joked.

"Of course not," I said. "Just wondering how much beer I should buy."

"Very funny. After living with Mom, I rarely get the chance. She's the hall monitor."

"Make the place your own," I told him. "I don't spend much time here these days with my busy schedule, so you're free to stay as long as you want. I already made up the guest room."

He smiled. "I will. Thank you."