Page 175 of Matteo

I blink. “And?” It's none of his damn business.

“Did you spend your vacation with her?”

“I'm pretty sure what I do in my spare time is none of your business.”

“I own this entire enterprise. Everything is my business.”

I stare him down silently.

“As I thought,” he says, picking up a pen and examining it. “Dating your employees seems to be a consistent pattern with you people.”

“We’re not dating,” I say.

“It was just sex?”

Listening to his vile words makes me hesitate about the reason I came to see him. Makes me second guess my decision. Especially now, being around him again, having to listen to his bullshit.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to live, but then Mama’s words float back to me. There’s an awkward pause where it makes sense to tell him, only, I can’t find the words in me. Because doing so will save his life, and after all the heinous things he’s done to the people I love, to this family, and for the person he is, I can’t say the words I know he is eager to hear.

“You came to see me,” he reminds me, when I'm still standing there.

I bite down on my molars, then, “I'll go ahead with it. The kidney.”

A fire seems to light behind those stone-cold grey eyes. He sits straighter, seems perkier. Sets the pen down. “Well then. I suppose I need to make plans for taking your kidney.”

Fucking jackass. Of all the things he could say, he chooses to say that. The audacity of this man. The sheer balls and bravado. The absolute absence of self-awareness.

“You don’t get to take my kidney,” I clarify. “I’ve decided to let you have it. There’s a difference.”

He scoffs, and surprisingly doesn’t say anything.

I struggle to contain the resentment simmering beneath my skin. “Don't mistake my decision for entitlement on your part. I can change my mind whenever I like.”

His jaw tightens.

“And if I do, you'll be waiting with everyone else for another donor.”

“Steady, boy.”

“I am steady, and calm. I saw Mama.”

I walk out of the office, anger burning in my chest after yet another conversation that leaves me wanting to put my fist through a wall.

***

The following week is filled with hospital appointments.

Now that I've made the decision to donate, I want the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.

There are more blood tests, scans, consultations, and enough forms to kill a small forest. The transplant team pokes, prods, questions, and evaluates me from every conceivable angle. They want to make sure I'm healthy enough for surgery and mentally stable enough to go through with it.

Fine.

The sooner they sign off on me, the sooner they can take the kidney. And the sooner this entire chapter of my life is behind me. If I'm approved as a donor, I want the surgery done immediately so that I can move on with my life.

Everything seems to be coalescing at the same time, what with the security issues at work, Elizabeth being implicated, Alex being pissed off with me, and me getting ready for surgery.

Joel and Sonny know something’s up, but we haven’t told them what it is yet. As Alex pointed out to me, what if it’s them? He also seems to be coming around to the idea that it might not be Elizabeth. I think, like me, he’d rather it were anyone but her.