The Girl He Used to Know(66)
I let out a short laugh, although I doubt Brad finds this situation funny. “Yeah, well, you might want to rethink looking down her dress because it’s certainly not appropriate behavior for any setting.”
Brad doesn’t know what to say. I’m well within my rights to call him out on this, and he knows it. But as my boss, to concede to me in any way would diminish some of his power, and he can’t have that.
“I wasn’t looking down her dress, Jon.”
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
I almost want to laugh again, because now I’m just poking the bear, and we’re both aware of it. The thing is, Brad knows I’m the best person for the job. And putting someone like me under him will allow his own workload to decrease, although I can only imagine the amount of work he’ll pile on me. He’ll make me miserable while I wait to find out if I got the job, but I’m almost certain he’ll choose me in the end. He’ll let me stew about it, and he’ll definitely make me wait until we get back from New York before he makes the announcement, because that will be my punishment for this altercation. Brad swivels around in his chair so that his back is to me, busying himself with a stack of files on his credenza. I take that as my cue to go.
When I return to my office, Annika isn’t there.
37
Jonathan
CHICAGO
SEPTEMBER 10, 2001
Brad finally dismissed everyone ten minutes ago. It’s almost seven, and I’m cutting it close, because I should be on my way to the airport for my 8:52 flight to New York, but instead I’m in a cab racing toward Annika’s apartment.
She buzzes me in and when she opens the door, eyes shiny with tears that look like they’re about to spill over, fresh anger toward Brad wells up inside me for what this has done to her.
“Why did you leave?” I shout.
She flinches, because yelling is not something I usually do, especially not at her.
“You said you weren’t mad, but you are!”
“I can deal with Brad, but I’m upset because you left. Do you know how that makes me feel?” She doesn’t answer me, because of course she doesn’t know how I feel, and she won’t unless I tell her. “It makes me feel like you think I’m not worth fighting for. You can tell me a hundred different ways that I matter to you. But I need you to show me. I need to know you’re willing to face whatever shit comes our way. You can’t run, you can’t bury your head in the sand every time something happens that overwhelms you. You don’t get to go to sleep and hope it’s all been taken care of when you wake up. We didn’t have to rekindle this relationship, but I wanted to because I happen to think you’re worth fighting for and I love you just the way you are.”
“You love me?” she says, as if she can’t believe it.
“I never really stopped loving you. Sometimes I don’t know why, but I do. You’re going to have to accept that I’m a grown man and can handle whatever you throw at me. You need things from me, and I get that. But so do I. I need you to show me that you’re not going to crumble every time you’re faced with a little adversity. I need you to show me that we’re in this together.”
She looks me straight in the eye and says, “I love you too, Jonathan. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run and hide when things get bad.”
I pull her into my arms and squeeze her tight. “I have to go. I’ll be back in two days, and we can talk more then.” I have a feeling that no matter what happens on this trip, I’ll be in dire need of her affection when I return. I kiss her like I mean it and then take off down the hall.
I luck out, because my cabdriver is insane and when I tell him he needs to get me to the airport in record time, he floors it and doesn’t let up until we’re screeching into O’Hare.
I’ve cut it about as close as anyone can and actually still hope to get on the plane. I make it through security and reach the gate with mere seconds to spare, which is good, because if I’d missed this flight, Brad would probably fire me.
38
Annika
CHICAGO
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001
I call in sick the next morning, which is something I almost never do, but the situation I created with Jonathan had me in such a state I couldn’t fall asleep. I’m ashamed of myself, because he’s right. I do run from things. I hide. I always have. I do believe that he loves me and doesn’t want me to change, but that didn’t stop me from lying there wide awake ruminating on what I’d done and the trouble I’d caused for him. The forecast for Chicago on this September day is sunny and mild, and my boss probably thinks I’m playing hooky to take advantage of the gorgeous weather, but that’s not it at all. I’m just so mad at myself, and I can’t let it go. Last night’s humiliating incident will play for days on an endless loop in my brain.
I make tea and crawl back in bed with it to call Janice the way I always do when I’ve messed up. She’s making breakfast with a clinging Natalia, who she says is riding her hip like a monkey.
“If you ask me, these businessmen take everything way too seriously,” she says after I spill the whole embarrassing story. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You did a nice thing for Jonathan. Jesus, they’re putting together deals, not curing cancer or solving world peace.”