She doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she turns and stomps off to our left. I follow her into a huge room that I’d label as a sitting room. It’s done in mostly whites. White sofas and white rugs. The walls are papered in a bright, colorful floral pattern. “Wow. This room is gorgeous.” Not kidding. It’s open and airy. I could imagine spending a lot of time in a room this happy.
“Thank you. I chose everything myself.”
“You’ve amazing taste, Mrs. Adler.”
“I know.”
Oh boy.
I watch as she sits on a long sofa giving me three choices. I can either sit next to her.
No.
On a chair to her left or on the sofa across from her. I go with door number three.
“Tea?” she asks curtly.
“Sure.” I mean. If I’m going to be here, I may as well have something to drink.
Wait.
No. My imagination runs wild.
She wouldn’t poison me… would she?
Nah. I shake my head and notice she’s staring at me.
With a sniff, she snaps, “Why are you here?”
“I came to explain.” I didn’t have the opportunity to talk yesterday partly because I’d had two large beers, making me tipsy, and figured it wasn’t a good idea to get involved. And also I had to process it all.
“Explain?” Her nose moves up into the air. “What do you feel you need to explain? How you’ve turned my son against me? How you’ve humiliated me in front of my friends?”
Ugh. She’s so dramatic.
“No. I wanted to explain why I hired an attorney. I haven’t decided if I’m suing McAllister yet.” They’ve yet to respond to Jason’s letter, so until that happens, I won’t know how to proceed.”
“Well, that’s a relief. So, you won’t sue then.” Not a question.
“I just said I haven’t decided.”
“You’re with Hudson now. You’re set.” She raises her drawn-on eyebrow. “You won’t ever need to sue or—” She sneers. “—work again.”
“Please let me explain.” I’m over this conversation already. This was a mistake. Except I need to try at least. For myself and for Hudson.
“Very well. Speak.” She waves her hand like a––like a duchess. Isn’t that what Mr. Adler called her?
No matter. I do. I tell her the story of Spencer, of Gail, of Gail’s lies to a potential employer. I also explain the situation with my apartment, my spreadsheet, and anything else I can think of to convince her… I’m not a bad person.
“I still believe it’s not necessary to sue our friends.”
“What they did was illegal.”
“You’re just trying to capitalize on––”
“I’m sorry…” I’m getting irritated. “I’m not entitled to sue when I was wrongfully terminated?” I am. I’m entitled to do that.
She doesn’t respond. Because of course she doesn’t.
