Reasonable Doubt: Volume 3 (Reasonable Doubt #3)(21)

“Pretend what was you?”

“Aubrey,” she said. “Clearly she was good enough for you to break the ‘I don’t f**k my employees’ rule.” She stepped toward the door. “I knew the second she started here that you liked her.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I don’t.” She looked over her shoulder. “But I do know that the second she quit, you’ve been a shell of yourself. You have yet to realize that you’ve been wearing the same blue suit for two weeks straight.”

I took a long swig of scotch from the bottle, numbly staring at the images that were playing on my television screen. A little blond girl playing in the rain—stomping her red boots in every puddle she could find.

“It’s time to go, Emma…”

I winced at hearing the sound of my old voice, but I continued watching the scene.

“Five more minutes!” She begged with a smile.

“You don’t even know what that means. You’ve just heard me say it…”

“Five more minutes!” She jumped into another puddle, laughing. “Five more minutes, Daddy!”

“It’s going to rain all week. Don’t you want to go home and—”

“No!” She stomped her feet in a puddle again, splashing me. And then she smiled innocently into the camera before running away—begging me to chase her.

I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. I turned off the TV and knocked the DVD player to the floor.

Fuck…

Walking down the hallway, I straightened the “E” and “H” frames that hung on the wall—trying my best not to look too hard.

I didn’t need to make myself another drink tonight. I needed someone to talk to.

I grabbed my phone from the night-stand, scrolling down my contacts for the one person who’d once kept the nightmares at bay. Aubrey.

It rang four times and went to voicemail.

“Hi. You’ve reached Aubrey Everhart,” it said. “I’m unable to take your call right now, but if you leave your name and number I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The second the beep sounded I hung up. Then I called again, just to listen to that small snippet of her voice. I told myself that I wasn’t being pathetic by calling her five times—knowing damn well that she wasn’t there, but when I called the sixth time, she picked up.

“Hello?” she answered. “Andrew?”

“Hello, Aubrey…”

“What do you want?” Her voice was cold.

“How are you?”

“What do you want, Andrew?” she asked, even colder. “I’m busy.”

“Then why did you pick up?”

“It was a mistake.” She ended the call.

I drew in a sharp breath, shocked that she hung up on me. I started to type up an email, chastising her for being so rude, but I noticed that she hadn’t responded to my last three in months:

Subject: Your Resignation.

Even though the last two words of your resignation letter were ridiculous and unprofessional, I’d like to take you up on your offer to f**k you.

Name the time.

—Andrew.

Subject: My Suit.

Since you have yet to pick up your final check, should I assume that’s your way of letting me keep it to replace the suit you ruined?

—Andrew.

Subject: BALLET.

I stopped by your dance hall earlier. You weren’t there.

Did you quit that, too?

—Andrew.

I decided that I needed to replace her. Fast.

I grabbed my laptop from my nightstand and logged into LawyerChat, looking for another Alyssa-type.

I spent all night roaming the chat rooms, answering questions left and right—gauging the personalities of the askers, but none of them grabbed me. Still, one woman who was listed as a high profile lawyer with ten years of experience seemed promising, so I clicked on her chat box.

“If you have ten years of experience, what could you possibly need help with on this site?” I typed.

“You’re never too old to learn new things…Why are you on here?”

“I’m looking for a replacement.”

“You’re trolling for an employee?”

“No, just someone I can talk to and make cum occasionally.”

She blocked me.

I tried talking to a few other women—keeping my true words to myself, but ultimately they just wanted to use me for information. They weren’t open to talking about anything else, and since LawyerChat had expanded its site recently, there seemed to be an influx of law students using it as a complaint board about their professors.

I shut the laptop and took another swig from my bottle—immediately realizing that there was only one “Alyssa-type”: Aubrey…

Maybe I made a mistake…

Out the corner of my eye I spotted an envelope under the slit of my door. It hadn’t been there when I first arrived home, and it hadn’t been there a few hours ago when I ordered my dinner.

Confused, I walked over and picked it up.

It was an official court summons to testify in a New York hearing, but it wasn’t addressed to my new name. It was addressed to Liam Henderson.

Remedy (n.):