Page 87 of Mr. Perfect

“Because I learned a very valuable lesson from the woman who falsely accused me of rape. I learned that something as small as a few words can have a profound impact on the future of five boys. And if words can do so much damage, then surely there are things equally as small that do so much good. A few dollars in Africa can feed a family for a week. Give out a million of those dollars to the right people and I just fed the population of a city.”

“Shit, Mac,” Ellie says with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “You didn’t know. No one knew. I didn’t want to do good deeds to be rewarded for them. I just wanted to do them to prove to myself that not everyone is bad. That I’m not the greedy kid they made me out to be. And when I found out that Alexander needed to retire to take care of his health, and he wanted me to come claim my fifty percent interest in the company and head up the North American branch while Heath took over the developing market in Asia and Camille ran Europe, well, I was reluctant. Why should I leave behind what I built for this? For people I don't know and, more importantly, people who might not need me as much as the ones I’m walking away from?”

I turn to the Stonewall employees. “I came here to sell it,” I say, raising my arms. “Just sell it off. I didn’t see the value. Not compared to the work I was doing. But I was wrong.” I turn to Ellie. “You, Ellie Hatcher, have value. You’re an exceptional employee. And I know you have big plans in your future, so I’m not going to ask you to stay. But I want you to know that I value you.

“I value all of you and if Alexander still wants me, I’m in. I’d be honored to help keep Stonewall Entertainment the number one corporation to work for. Not just America, but the world. I’d love for us to change the future together.”

Chapter Thirty-Three - Ellie

I am at a loss for words. My mouth opens, closes, then opens again. I feel like a fish gasping for air.

“Ellie?” Mac is staring at me with a worried look on his face. “Ellie? Are you OK?”

I look up. All the faces staring down at me. Stonewall Senior is up there. And Jennifer. And Stephanie and Mr. Sowards.

“Ellie? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I shake my head as I let out a long breath. “I can’t.” I really can’t. So I just turn on my heel and walk out the building. Outside it’s bright, and the morning sun is beating down on the parking lot, making me instantly feel much too warm. I press a finger to my temple as I head for my car.

“Ellie!” Mac yells from behind me. “Wait!”

I can’t wait. I can’t deal. None of this makes any sense at all.

“Ellie,” Mac says. He grabs my arm hard enough to pull me to a stop. “Where are you going? Don’t you have anything to say? No comment? Not even a shrug?”

I stop because he makes me, but I don’t turn to look at him. I stare down at my feet. Study the small cracks in the concrete parking lot. Count a few stones.

“Goddammit, Ellie. What the hell is going on with you?”

“You want to know?” I ask softly.

“Yes,” he says loudly. “I’d really like to know.”

I turn to him, willing myself to be strong. Not to cry or appear any more ridiculous than I already am. Mac is so handsome. His face, his body, his suit, his shoes, his car, his apartment. Everything. “I thought you were the one floundering and I had it all figured out. But it turns out I’m a joke in every sense of the word.”

“What?” Mac asks. “What does that even mean? Ellie, you’re not making sense to me right now. What is the deal? Do I need to convince you I’m not guilty of those crimes they accused me of? Or—”

“No,” I say, putting up my hand to stop him. “No. That’s not it, Mac. It’s got nothing at all to do with those ten-year-old accusations, it’s got everything to do with your life since then.”

“I don’t get it,” Mac says. “I don’t understand what you hate about what I’ve been doing with my life, Ellie. Just tell me and I’ll fix it. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’ll fix it.”

“You’ll fix it?” I ask, doing my best to stifle a small snort, but not entirely succeeding. “You can’t fix it, Mac. You can’t fix it because it’s not about you, it’s about me.”

“Ellie,” Mac says again, but this time his voice is stern. “I don’t understand.”

“I know,” I say. “I know you don’t. How could you? You are Mr. Perfect. You are accused of a heinous crime and instead of bowing under, you take control. You segregate yourself from society and start feeding the world.”

“What’s so bad about that?” He yells it. His patience is over. “What the fuck is the problem here? I thought you’d be proud of me. I thought you’d be happy to finally find out I really am a good guy and not this asshole you’ve conjured up in your head.”

“I am proud of you, Mac. It’s the perfect turnaround, right? But I’m good at that conjuring. All those delusions and pretend babies.”

“Ellie, just stop, OK? I told you I like that part of you.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I hate it.”

“What?”