The Position (6 page)

He looks up at me, his blue eyes still smoky. “Do you want to stay here? You know you can stay here. Any time.”
 

I smile and pick up my portfolio. “Thanks for the shoulder, my friend. I’ll call you soon to see how you’re doing. ” I lean over and kiss the top of his head, not sure if I’m reassuring him or myself.
 

“Hang in there, sweetie,” I say, forcing something like cheerfulness into my voice. “Tomorrow is another day.”

Chapter Ten

It’s a dark, moonless night and there are no street lamps in sight. But it’s quiet and still, and I snuggle into my sleeping bag and stare up through the windshield at the few stars that haven’t been smothered by the city lights. It’s been so long since I slept, everything feels like a blur. Like a weird dream. The presentation. Captain. The hospital. That bitch Celestina. And…

I shudder and squeeze my eyes shut. What is wrong with me? I was unfairly fired from my job and then offered the possibility of a lifetime. And yet all I can think about are his hands on me. How I excited him. Me. Awkward and homely little Mickey had the man of her dreams rock hard excited. I can’t stop replaying it in my mind. It’s all I can think about. I let out a long, slow breath.
Get a grip. Let it go. Move on.
 

I try to focus on kindly and professional Nathan Green, but that sets off a butterfly bomb in my stomach. An actual design project? For me? It just sounds so unlikely and ridiculous. I’m sure it will just lead to more disappointment and heartache. But it’s still better than the black hole that opens up inside me when I think about how I’m never going back to Lazarus & Smith again. I loved my job. I was good at it. And Lazarus made me feel important and smart. Not expendable. My head hurts from trying to understand it.
 

Just as I start to drift off, I’m startled by the sound of someone knocking on the glass. I peek out of my sleeping bag to find a large figure standing outside the driver’s side window. This isn’t exactly a new experience for me, but still it blasts my system with adrenaline and sets my heart off sprinting laps around my chest. I reach down to the floor where I always leave my canister of pepper spray and sit up. The figure leans down again and peers inside the car. I gasp. It’s Lazarus.
 

A million thoughts scramble through my brain. My body doesn’t know what to feel. There are waves of heat and shivering cold. Fear. Relief. Humiliation. The sight of his magazine model face makes me both weak with desire and blind with rage.
 

What is he doing here? How the fuck did he find me? Am I dreaming? I slide out of my sleeping bag and crawl to the door. Lazarus is squinting in at me with dismay, his eyes flicking to all the crap in the back; my meager life’s possessions. I roll the window down halfway.
 

“What are you doing here?” I shout, my voice loud in the stillness.
 

“Open the door.” He’s firm and commanding, just like before my spanking at the office. But a lot has happened inside me since then. I won’t reflexively obey anymore.
 

“Screw you!”

Lazarus tries the handle, but it’s locked. “Mickey, I need to talk to you.”
 

“There’s nothing to talk about! I don’t want to see you! How did you even find me?”
   

Lazarus holds me in his steely gaze, but I can also see a softness there. An urgency that’s more concerned than crazy. “Please. Just two minutes. I promise. And then I’ll leave you alone forever. If that’s what you want.”

I stare at him, confused. I’m short of breath and I know that my eyes are startled and wild. But I can’t look away. I’m struck by the unexpected tenderness in his eyes. I unlock the door and push it open.
 

“Thank you,” he says gently. “Can I come in?”
 

I’m suddenly super aware of the fact that I’m only wearing a thin tee shirt and guy’s boxer shorts, so I scoot across the seat and hug my sleeping bag to my chest. Lazarus slips in behind the wheel and closes the door. Then he looks at me earnestly.
 

“Mickey, why are you sleeping in this car?”
 

My face flushes hot and I keep my eyes on the dashboard, too mortified to look at him. More than anything in the world, I fear seeing pity in his eyes. No words come, and so I sit there in silence. Lazarus casts another look into the back seat. The cardboard boxes full of cereal, beef jerky, and canned food. The stacks of folded clothes. The skirts and trousers draped over hangers and hooked just over the windows. He looks at me again.
 

“It’s like you live here. Like you actually live in this car.”
 

I suck in a deep breath and shake my head. “I don’t get it. You just happened to be walking down this dark, industrial street…”
 

“I followed you.”

I snap my head around. “What? But… Why?”
 

“I looked up your address…or shall I say, the address you gave HR. And then I parked outside the house waiting. I saw you leave, get in your car, and come here. You parked over an hour ago. I couldn’t figure it…”
 

“Why would you follow me?” I blurt out. “You just fired me.”
 

Lazarus turns away and runs a hand through his thick, sandy hair. His profile is perfection. He is perfection. I look away, angry with myself for feeling that way. Don’t be his doormat! Have a little dignity! What has happened to you? Lazarus clears his throat.
 

“Trust me. I didn’t want to, Mickey. You have no idea… I just... It’s…complicated.”
 

“I’m not some kind of a crazed slut, you know,” I mutter. I look out the passenger window. “In fact, I’ve never done that before. With anyone.”

“You’ve never done what before?”
 

I shrug angrily. “Anything. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
 

Lazarus lowers his chin and looks up at me through thick, dark lashes. His voice is thick with emotion. “Are you telling me that you’re… that you are a…”
 

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” I shout. The shame and anger are suffocating me. The air inside the car feels thin and toxic. I’m suddenly desperate to be alone again. “I just want you to leave me alone!”
 

I wait for him to say something, but Lazarus is quiet for a long time. Finally, I turn around to look at him. He’s staring at me. Our eyes lock and I feel a bolt of electricity blaze through me. The fire is rising again so I force my eyes away. His power unsettles me. I just want to be free of him.
 

“I need to know that you’re okay,” he says, his voice low. “I can’t stand knowing that you…” He casts his eyes around the inside of my jalopy again. “That
this
is what you come home to. That this
is
your home. I can’t…”
 

He rubs his face with his hands, as if grappling with something incomprehensible. Of course he can’t imagine it. Jude Lazarus has never had to imagine poverty. I push the sleeping bag away and turn to face him, my hands clenched in angry fists.

“You know what, Jude? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s how to be okay. I don’t need anyone looking out for me. This isn’t a new situation for me. It’s just my life, okay? You gave me a job and then you fired me. Save your pity. I’ll be fine. Just leave me alone.”
 

The anger floods my brain until I can’t think straight. I just want this day to be over. I want to move on. I want him to go.

“Jesus, Mickey…”
 

“Get out of my car and go!” I bring my open hand down hard on the dash.

Lazarus bites his lip and stares straight ahead in a daze. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look helpless. He shakes his head and opens the door. Then he looks over at me one last time.
 

“Mickey, I…”
 

“Go!” I scream like a maniac. This time he does. He climbs out of the car and closes the door. I watch him cross the street to where his car is parked, shoulders hunched and defeated. I wrap the sleeping bag around me. Good, I tell myself. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope I never see him again for as long as I live. The glare of his headlights across the street cuts through the darkness and his car pulls away. I watch in the rear view as the red taillights grow smaller and smaller.
 

And then all that’s left is the empty blackness.

Chapter Eleven

“I’m sorry you got fired,” Liz says, leaning sympathetically over the table. Still, she doesn’t look surprised. “If there’s anything I can do to help. If you need to borrow money…”

“I’m okay,” I say quickly before she can follow that line any further. I’ve agreed to let her take me to lunch, but I’m not going to start shaking down my friends for cash. I never have before and I have no plans to start now. After all, I’m just where I started a couple months ago.
 

Liz called in the morning asking if I could meet her for lunch. Of course, I had nothing else to do with my day, so we agreed to have sandwiches at little hole-in-the-wall near her work. I was surprised to see her looking so thin, her eyes lifeless. Her blond hair is pulled into a slightly greasy ponytail and her work clothes are unusually plain. She’s taking the breakup hard, I think.
 

“What are you going to do?” she asks, rigorously stirring her ice tea as if it were cake batter. “Are you looking for work?”
 

I shrug. “I have one lead. We’ll see.”
 

“Admin stuff?”
 

“Design work, actually.”
 

Liz raises her eyebrows. “Seriously?”
 

I shake my head and bite into my BLT. “It’s stupid. Probably will never happen. Besides, I’m too superstitious to talk about it.” I give her a smile. “How’s your work?”
 

Liz sighs and leans back against her chair. “Fine,” she says, her eyes blankly gazing out the window to the street. Then she looks at me. “I miss him.”
 

I reach across the table and put a hand on her arm. She tenses, as if my touch was a terrible sensation, then pulls her arm out of my reach. Confused, I lean back and study her carefully. I realize for the first time that, in spite of her kind words and generous offers, Liz’s expression is dark and unfamiliar.
 

“What’s wrong, Liz?”
 

But she just shakes her head and waves it away. “Nothing.”
 

She’s just depressed, I think. Everyone deals with it differently. I’m no stranger to withdrawing from the world when things get bad. Still, she’s the one who called to invite me out.
 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
 

Liz gives me a pointed look. “Are you saying you don’t know? Didn’t you talk to Travis?”
 

“Only long enough for him to tell me you broke up. He didn’t say why.”
 

“Of course he didn’t,” she mutters bitterly.
 

I cock my head and furrow my brow, befuddled by her behavior. “What’s going on? Why does it feel like you’re mad at me? I’m not involved in this.”
 

“Oh, aren’t you?”
 

I’m starting to get annoyed with all of her answers being questions. The waitress sidles up with the pitcher of ice tea and fills both our glasses, and I bite my lip to stop myself from blurting out what I want to say. When she’s gone, I lean over the table.
 

“What the fuck, Liz?” I whisper loudly. “Stop playing this stupid game and just fucking tell me already!”
 

“He’s in love with you, okay?” She practically spits it out, and then she buries her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Mickey. It’s not your fault. I know it’s not.”
 

I sit frozen in my seat, stunned. “That’s insane.”
 

Liz shakes her head. She lifts her now tear-streaked face and grabs for her napkin. “He’s been in love with you for ages. That’s what he told me.”
 

I’m dumbfounded. There’s no way this is true. Nothing has ever happened to suggest that Travis had feelings for me. In fact, a few years ago, I had a mad crush on Travis that gradually softened into friendship. But he was always way too interested in fucking anything in a tight pair of pants to give me the time of day. At least not in
that
way.
 

 
“I’m sorry,” I say slowly, my mouth suddenly dries. “I just don’t believe that. He’s too much of a player to hide something like that from me.”
 

Liz shrugs, wiping at her eyes with the napkin and blowing her nose. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s true. And when he told me, he hadn’t even seen the new you.”

My head is reeling and I have no more words to say. My best friend in the world, the only soul besides old Captain that I’ve leaned on and trusted in my entire screwed up life has been in love with me. Geeky, homely, awkward me. It’s too much to take in. I stare at my half-eaten sandwich, not wanting it anymore. There’s a tight knot in my stomach that won’t let anything else through.
 

Liz tries to smile. “I’m really sorry about that, Mickey. I couldn’t imagine you didn’t know. I was hurt and angry. But it’s obvious you had no idea.” She pulls out another napkin and gives her nose a dainty blow. There’s a strange expression on her face, like someone bracing for bad news. She fixes her eyes on the table. “Do you love him, too?”
 

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Of course I love Travis. He’s like family to me. But am I in love with him? Are any of those old flames still smoldering somewhere inside? I’m not sure, but I don’t think they are.
 

“I’m not in love with Travis, Liz.”

She lets out a gushing half-laugh, half-sob and nods quickly. “I didn’t think so. I really didn’t.” The answer seems to make her a little hopeful. She gives me a weak smile, her eyes still shining with tears. “I hope we can still be friends with each other, Mickey.”