Cassandra huffed and crossed her arms, but she didn’t interrupt as I continued. "I felt what I have to say is important enough to have Robert call this meeting, so I'm here, and I just want to get this off my chest."
Before continuing, I took a huge breath to force some of the pressure off my chest. Then I let them have it.
"Before I started here, Mr. Clayton Locke was a regular at my workplace. I was a bartender. I'd finished my degree but hadn’t found a job yet. I had over almost two hundred grand in student loans. I lived in a shabby, rundown apartment. I worked paycheck to paycheck to?—"
"Is this supposed to be a sob story? Can we get to the point?" Cassandra's eyes were hard and cold as ice. I thought telling them where I came from might help them understand my reasoning, but she had a point. This was about helping them see Asher for who he was, not redeeming my reputation.
"Sorry, yes… Mr. Locke came, and I served him as usual. He heard me complaining about needing tip money to pay some bills. I had a huge car repair." She glared at me again, but I kepttalking "And I needed rent money. That's when he proposed this agreement. He wanted me to work here for him. He told me I'd have to seduce his brother and make him sound like a predator. He told me that his brother was running the company into the ground and had to be removed, but the board needed more concrete ground to stand on."
The longer I spoke, the easier it got, but I felt sicker. Maybe because I was outing myself for what a horrible decision this was.
"Clayton recorded the meeting where he offered to pay me a million dollars, half up front, half when I provided him proof you all could use to remove Asher from his duty as CEO." I waited, thinking someone would have a comment, but no one spoke.
"I took his money, paid my debts off, got a new place, some new clothes, and fixed my car. A week later, I started working here at Locke Global, and my first day here, I knew what a horrible mistake I’d made." Their eyes were stern and fixed on me. "I could see instantly that Asher's drinking problem wasn't because he was a bad person. He was hurting."
My eyes welled up as I remembered how hurt he was, how much pain I saw when I looked at him. And the guilt tried to swallow me whole as I stood in front of their prying, judging eyes.
"I made it through the first day, but on day two, I snapped at him and it wasn’t because he was misbehaving. I could see someone needed to intervene. I told him drinking wouldn’t solve his problem." My heart felt like it might explode any second, but I pressed on. "Yes, there was a spark between us, but it wasn't because I was seducing him.
"Asher needed help from someone, and no one had stood up to him and told him no. So I did. I took his whiskey away, served him water, and showed that I cared. It wasn't but two weeks later and he was ready for rehab. Asher checked himself in with a promise of being a better man for me, and at that point, I felt completely stuck.
"I was falling for him, and he confessed to loving me. He told me that he wanted a relationship with me, but I'd already taken Clayton's money. I couldn't back out." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my broken phone and showed them. "As soon as I get a new screen for this, I'll show you the conversations between myself and Clayton, how he badgered me and pushed me to keep trying to hurt Asher. If anyone is to blame for Asher's relapse, it's Clayton."
I wasn't sure what else to say to them to prove that removing Asher was a bad idea. Clayton wasn't here to defend himself, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, either. I saw his nose. It was definitely broken. All they'd see is the result of how far Clayton pushed Asher and the effect it'd had on him. Not the broken man who needed a little patience.
"Please, be merciful to him. I love him dearly—enough to bomb my entire career and future just to make sure you know what really happened here. I don't care what happens to me. I just want him to be happy and sober, and I want you all to know what Clayton has been up to so you can see for yourself what sort of man he is."
Now when I looked around the table, all I saw were expressions of sadness and respect. Robert stood first, turning to me with kind eyes. "Thank you, Veda, for sharing all of that. It must've been very difficult for you."
I blinked back the tears that wanted to spill out and nodded at him. "I just want him to be okay."
"He's gonna be alright." Robert smiled at me, a knowing look, and gestured for the door. "It appears the board has a lot to talk about. I want to thank you so much for being honest with us."
There was so much I felt I hadn't said yet, but he was ushering me toward the door. I let him guide me rather than protesting. The hard part was over now, but I still had so much heavy emotion to work through.
"Thank you for letting me speak," I told him. This was the last time I'd probably ever see any of them. Unless they happened into The Pub at some point. Life as I knew it was over.
"Take care of yourself," he said as he opened the door and I stepped out.
I nodded, but my heart was so heavy, I didn't want to go home. I wanted to go find Asher and let him hold me, but those days were long gone. There was nothing left but a wasteland to wade through called heartbreak and mourning.
I stopped by my old desk to get my things, but everyone was at their morning break. It felt sad leaving all of this behind without saying goodbye, which only made my heaviness worse. And knowing I had no phone to call Regan, I used the office line to dial her number. I just couldn't go home and be alone.
"Hello?"
"Ray, it's Veda…" I paused to keep myself from crying. "Can you come to my place? Bring ice cream. I need to talk."
If there was one person in the world who would understand it all, it was my best friend. At least she knew what happenedand had been there for me every step of the way. Too bad she couldn’t hold my heart together.
I had a feeling after this, some of the pieces of my life would never get put back in place.
29
ASHER
The bench outside the church I first attended an AA meeting at was damp from rain, but as drunk as I was, I paid no attention as I sank onto it and stared at the doors leading to the basement where men funneled past to attend. I sat with my bottle of rum in hand staring, knowing that entering that meeting would be a mockery of the program I had trusted to help me thus far.
The feeling of community, the togetherness, the way encouragement surrounded me when I went, it was all competently out of reach because I threw away my sobriety like a cheap rag the minute things got tough. I was stewing, obsessing over how Veda had hurt me so desperately. This wasn't at all like losing Emma. That had been out of my control, something life did to both of us. But this—it was excruciating knowing a human being could hurt another, all for money.
