Darryl Peterson blinks and turns to me. “I suppose it’s better for you to know.” He rubs his temples and explains to me, assuming I’m in the dark. “Elliot makes pornographic art. And now, as I’m learning, his career will bring another round of humiliation for us all.”
“It’s fine. This has nothing to do with me,” I say quickly. “Or the firm.” I risk glancing at Elliot. “Although I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” I tell him in my most professional tone, wishing I could say more.
“I don’t have time for you today, Elliot,” my boss says sternly. “None of this.”
“Then why did you drag me in here?” Elliot asks, exasperated.
“For the same reason I had Mr. Hansley in,” he exclaims, raising his voice. “To tell you that the firm is going into a state of crisis. I have decided to alert the FBI and the board to a corruption scandal at the executive level.” He straightens his shirt and steps forward. I see something wrestle across his features before he regains his composure. “Integrity is a virtue,” he says simply. “After our conversation last night, I thought you might be capable of keeping yourself out of the news. I intended to stress the heightened importance of that now.”
“Oh,” Elliot says.
My boss looks to me again. “Forgive this display,” he says.
“It’s fine,” I say, my brain racing to catch up with all the developments. “It’s a stressful day for everyone.”
He glances between me and Elliot, comprehension flickering across his expression.
My stomach sinks.
“Have you two maintained a relationship?” he asks evenly.
Shit. Suddenly on the spot after being told how reliable I am, I have even more trouble lying than I would already. “We’ve been in touch, of course,” I answer diplomatically.
“And?” he asks sharply.
I freeze as I try to formulate my answer.
“Dad, do you really need to give us the third degree right now?”
Unfortunately, a man of details, he’s already put it together. “The way you defended him, Hansley,” he says. “I see it now.” He glances between us. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. You’re… together.”
I’m sick that he saw through us so easily, but it’s clear there’s no use in arguing, and denial is just going to make us look worse. “Yes. We are, Mr. Peterson. But this isn’t anything we planned on sharing with you.”
He looks at Elliot. “If you’re trying to start on a new path with me and your mother, Elliot, it hardly helps to drag an employee down to your level.” He turns to me. “I’m far more disappointed by you.”
It’s too much to hear him disparage Elliot, and I push back.
“Elliot hasn’t dragged me down. He’s lifted me up. Your son is an amazing man, and it’s a shame if you can’t see that for yourself.” I clear my throat. “This has had and will continue to have no impact on my work performance,” I say firmly.
He tightens his brow. “Unacceptable.” His phone rings, and he walks back behind his desk. “I have no time for this nonsensetoday.” He tenses his hands into fists. “You’re lucky you’re needed at the moment, Hansley,” he adds, like a threat. “Now get out of my office.”
Elliot and I head out into the firm. In the corridor that opens to the front office and the sea of cubicles, we stand across from each other, accounting noises clacking and humming in the air.
“I think I have whiplash,” I say as my heart pounds. We can only linger for a moment without catching attention, so I speak quickly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
I nod quickly. “I’m fine. Sorry your work has been exposed.”
In his eyes, I can feel Elliot reach for me, and I wish badly that I could touch him, but we each take a half-step back instead.
“Don’t listen to him,” I tell Elliot. “You’re a brilliant artist. Trust yourself.”
“Thank you,” he says softly, and after a lingering moment of eye contact, we each walk away.
