Tuesday, 6:55am
Clint:I’ll bring dinner. I’ll also be inviting Amber. As friends, not an attorney/client, get together.
I smiled, remembering yesterday in the hospital. After Clint and Eddie came back in from the hallway, Clint couldn’t stop stealing glances at Eddie. I wasn’t entirely sure, because I’d never assume someone’s sexuality or preferences. It wasn’t just that he was peeking at him when he thought Eddie didn’t notice. It was the way Clint was watching Eddie, the way his gaze softened and looked almost reverent at the same time. Did he want to get to know Eddie? On like a more personal level? Was he trying to make a pass at my brother?
Or was I misreading the situation entirely?
Tuesday, 6:56am
Devin Fia:My parents, mine and Eddie’s, might possibly be in town by then, and I’m sure they’d love to see it too. I’ll keep you posted on their flight times and arrivals.
Tuesday, 7:00am
Clint:I’ll prep for them also. Thank you for the heads up. Keep me posted.
Clint:Please.
I just smiled at my phone. This was going to be fun.
So. Much. Fun.
*****
Caleb’s POV
Walking into HR bright and fucking early Monday morning was not what I wanted to do at all. I was so nervous after everything that happened over the weekend, still sick from not being able to reach Devin, and from the lack of sleep trying to figure out who could have, orifwe were, seen Saturday night. I saw Becky was already waiting just outside, like she wanted to walk in together. I hadn’t seen or talked to her since I was on the phone with my mom. And I wasn’t even sure if I would consider that talking to her. I just inquired about something and then ignored her the rest of the time. I took a deep breath before walking past her, like she was part of the furniture. I kept my gaze on the head of HR. My boss and CEO, Mr. Westwood, were there as well, along with his aide, and lawyer.
Oh god.
This wasn’t going to be good.
At all.
I stood there feeling myself going cold and clammy, weak in the legs. My muscles were tense, every bit of me was tense, and I was sure the minute anything happened I was going to pass out. I mean, for fuck’s sake! I could hear my heart thudding in my chest, slamming from one side to the other like a metronome keeping time. I was sure everyone could hear it.
Lub-dub! Lub-dub! Lub-dub!
“Sit,” Mr. Westwood’s voice spoke. He was cold and authoritative like always. We hurried into the chairs provided for us, and I was just thankful I hadn’t collapsed into the damn thing when I went to sit.
A throat clearing, light, feminine, cleared. I blinked, looking around like I was seeing all of them for the first time. Iswallowed thickly before his lawyer smiled a sharp, vicious smile at us.
“Please know, this conversation is being recorded for legal purposes. CEO Mr. Clint Westwood, the head of HR, Jennifer Lowell, Mr. Westwood’s aide Sade Jones, and myself, Legal Council Amber Martin are all here. The day is Monday,” She continued talking while I could feel myself drifting off. There was no way this was happening. How? Why? Who? There were so many questions and I wanted to throw up.
Another louder, deeper, throat clearing pulled me into the now again. I looked around and was pinned instantly by the glare from Mr. Westwood.
I’m fucked. I almost blew chunks as his lawyer thanked him before continuing.
“We are here today to talk about code of conduct violations that were clearly listed in your employment contracts. There was a ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your contracts. Do either of you, Mr. Caleb Dennison or Miss Becky Brumsfeld, need a copy of those contracts to review for yourselves before we hear your side of the story?” The woman was shuffling through files as she talked. Like this was just another day at the office and heads weren’t on the chopping block. “Please answer with a verbal yes or no.”
We both responded the same, ‘No’, ‘Yes’. It was quiet for a few moments after that before a contract slid into my folded hands. I was already looking at them, praying in my head that they didn’t know. I’d be fucked if they knew. I absentmindedly opened the contract, staring at the sea of words that blurred together before me.
I think I’m having an existential crisis.
I knew I looked like shit because I hadn’t slept sincethat night. Since the night I’d fucked up even more than I had when we’d just made out. Since the night I ruined my fucking life.
“The night of the Christmas party,” Mr. Westwood started, and I tried not to flinch at his words, “Did either of you engage in activity that is otherwise against company policy?”
“No,” Becky answered confidently. The lawyer smiled. HR stayed neutral as did Mr. Westwood, “Why?”
