He’s just trying to keep me under his thumb. I used to love being made to feel small by him, but… I’ve outgrown that.
“You don’t need me.” It hurts, but I’m going to remind him of the woman he wants. “You have Scary Sandra.”
His brows rise. “Scary Sandra?”
Oops. I didn’t mean to call her that out loud.“Your ‘consultant.’” I put air quotes around consultant. That’s what she’s called on his calendar, but I know better.
He blinks, like he doesn’t know who I’m talking about. And isn’t it just like him to forget the beautiful woman he’s been seeing since September?
“Tall, blonde, wears a lot of red?” She looks like a sexy librarian crossed with a dominatrix. I can’t really see Piers tolerating someone else taking charge, but I wonder… “You’ve had weekly meetings with her for the past four months.”Since Marty’s funeral.“I assume you’re banging her.”
“Sandra.” Recognition dawns on his face, and then he looks like he’s about to laugh.
My heart sinks to my socks. “Yeah. She can comfort you.”
“Is this why you want to quit?” His soft tone is so unexpected, it makes me catch my breath. “You’re jealous of Sandra?”
“What? No, I’m not jealous.” I am totally jealous. “Why would I be jealous?”
“I am not banging Sandra.” He puts a finger under my chin. “Wellesley, look at me.”
I don’t look at him. I look anywhere but at him. “No.” A sigh shudders out of me, but then I harden my voice. “I’m quitting because I deserve better than you.”
His hand falls away. I stare at the liquor cabinet so I can get through my little speech. “You didn’t need to drag me up here for work. You knew this holiday was important to me because of my mom. But you made sure I was trapped up here. With you. To bemiserable. I’m done putting you first. I’ve done that these past few years and…” I bite back the rest:Nothing’s going to change.
You’ll never see the real me.
I want you to see the real me.
“I need to prioritize myself. Protect myself. It’s clear you’re never going to do that. You don’t respect people. At this point, I don’t think you’re capable of it.”
He doesn’t say anything. His silence says it all.
Did I go too far? No, I could say much worse.Your parents were jerks and fucked you up beyond repair. But it’s okay, you have your money to keep you warm.
Let Scary Sandra make sure you take your Lactase pill.
I don’t say any of that. But I don’t give in, either.
I let the silence stretch, and finally, he moves away. His slow footsteps recede until his brogues reach the carpet. He shuts the door.
There it is. I knew he would leave. He’s going back to his stock tickers and end-of-the-year reports, where he belongs.
There’s no reason for me to feel like I’ve broken something beyond repair.
By eleven,I have a taste for whiskey. The more I drink, the less gross it tastes!
Whiskey makes everything better. Whiskey understands.
After Piers left me alone, I went upstairs and dealt with some unfinished business. I emailed Johann and Benji, Pier’s private chef and personal trainer, letting them know their future point of contact would no longer be me, but their schedule shouldn’t change for the rest of the year. I also sent a staff-wide emaildoubling the bonuses of everyone in the company. I should email Sandra, too, but I decide Piers can deal with her himself.
Before I lost my nerve, I ran a bath and drowned my phone and iPad. I’ll probably regret it, but in the moment, it felt good.
I officially have no job. I’m free!
I find the sound system and figure out how to change all the TVs to a channel that replays “It’s A Wonderful Life” over and over again. Once that was playing on every screen, I turned on the house speakers and started blasting Christmas carols through the entire mansion.
I’d like to see him Bah Humbug his way out of this.
