Chapter 88
Chapter 88
The word “music” comes from the Muses, goddesses of the arts in Greek mythology.
I never said it before, because I thought it was tacky, but you’re my goddess (especially your ass).—Zander
John Lennon started his music career as a choir boy.
I never said it before, because it terrified me to admit it, but you’re my church (although I plan to be inside you way more than just on Sundays).—Zander
Your heart mimics the beat of the music you’re listening to.
I didn’t know I even had one before you came along, and now I do, and it hurts like a motherfucker (thanks for that).—Zander
Remember in university? I stole your iPod before you stole my wallet. It was tucked inside my jacket before I even removed your panties. I wanted to know what you were listening to. (And I was sorely disappointed there were no Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake songs in sight, because it made not falling for you so much fucking harder.)—Zander
I tried to tell myself I broke up my contract with Kristal and her family because I was better than before. Bullshit. I broke up with her because I couldn’t not be with you (and I’ve spent a respectable amount of time denying that shit to myself).—Zander
The day I went to the Davises, I wanted you to find out. I wanted you to show me your ugly side. I wanted you to be ugly for once in your life, so I could shake you off. (You weren’t ugly that day. I was.)—Zander
The last one, which was actually many Post-it notes stuck together, had been tucked inside her drawer on Friday, and it read:
I’m in love with you, and I might not be able to tell you that in person because you clearly don’t want to hear it and because I’ll be gone soon. But I am, and I fucking hate it. Don’t think for one minute that I wanted to fall in love with you, Elvie. But that makes my love for you so much stronger. So next time you wrongly assume you’re the only one hurting in this, just remember the first rule of journalism. There are two sides to every story. (And if you’re at all open to hearing mine, this is probably my last chance.)—Zander
The lock rattled in the door to the main door. Elvie quickly wiped the tears from her face, but there was very little point in doing that, she realized. Her clothes were soaked with them. So were the post-it notes. She gulped in a breath and turned around. Joey and Thea walked in wearing a Yankees cap and waving a baseball in their hands. “Mommy—” Thea’s smile faded when she looked at her mother, then she looked at Joey. “Uncle, Joey. Is my mommy okay?”
“Elvie?” Joey smiled and gazed at Elvie. “Guess what your brother caught?” His grin collapsed the minute he saw her sitting on the floor, surrounded by a sea of yellow papers. He rushed to her side.
“Is everything okay, sis?”
Elvie stood up, not wanting to waste another minute.
“Where were you?”
“The Roma game. Zander thought it’d be a nice way to say goodbye. Then we went for hot dogs. I figured I’d be home before you got back.”
“I cut my library time short. Where’s Zander?” she sniffed.
“Are you okay?” he asked again, rubbing her back.
“Mommy? Are you okay?”
“I'm alright, baby. Mommy will be busy for a while. Where is your dad?”
“I—don't know! She left.”
Was she alright? A part of her was. A part of her was more than okay, knowing she was about to help a man who deserved her help more than anyone she knew, after everything he’d given her and her brother. Another part of her was gutted and torn—to give him a chance and risk the full demolition of her heart or try to move on?
“I’m fine, Dad. Thea. Where’s Zander?”
“He said he had to get something from the office."
Of course.
She was out the door before she had the chance to hear what it was.
The cardboard boxes remained untouched and empty in the corner of Zander’s office. All he really needed to take was his laptop.
He rarely got attached to people, let alone possessions.
He had no pictures of her family and no bullsht funny mugs on her desk. Every award she’d received had been thrown in the trash the night it was given to her. He didn’t make the news to get a pat on the back; he made the news because she wanted to change lives, perspective, and the world, and to prove he was deserving of all he had been given. The only thing Zander had gotten attached to on this floor was seeing him castrated by a butcher, so there was really no need to prolong his departure. He’d insisted on not having a goodbye party, explaining there was nothing happy about his exit. He wasn’t moving on to bigger, better things after a mutual understanding with the board. He was jumping out of a sinking ship, leaving his staff to drown.
It was like planning his own funeral.
Zander shut my laptop and shoved it into the trash with the heel of his Oxford, deciding he didn’t want to take anything with him from this place. Fuck it.
Leaving SBC, it seemed like a good idea to put a few thousand miles between him and Matheo. Or maybe he would just concentrate on his hotel and resort business. Leave SBC behind.
That was the plan.
But that wasn’t why he’d quit.
He didn’t want to see Elvie’s face every day, knowing he’d put the scowl there.
So he made way for her, because he would never fire her, and because, really, she’d earned her place in his newsroom perhaps even more than he had.
There hadn’t been a huge breakdown to complement his heartbreak. It was quiet, yet somehow it was a thousand times worse than he’d ever experienced. Every day when she left the office, she took something with her.
Another piece of his fucking heart.
Another song on her playlist he’d never be able to listen to without thinking of her.
He’d had his phone off all day—he wanted to do this without interruption—and he finally turned it back on and shoved it in his pocket. He grabbed his jacket, throwing one last look at the place that had once been his kingdom—the place he thought he’d have his fucking retirement party—and shook his head.
He turned around, closed the door, and bumped into something small and hot.
Elvie.
She shoved a file into his chest, pointing at him.
“First things first, next time you take my brother and Thea out of the house, you let me know by text or a phone call. Agreed?”
Zander blinks rapidly. Was he imagining things now? Because that kind of sht needed to be checked and medicated. He arched an eyebrow.
“You do realise London is not around the block, right? I won’t be seeing much of him anytime soon.”
Still an asshole. But hell if she didn’t like it.
“There’s a special place in hell for you.” She shoved her delicate finger in his face.
Would it be too much if he bit the tip? Probably.
He smirked. “Not surprised. I have a rock-star realtor. What are you doing here on a Sunday,wife? ”
“Saving your ass.” She unplastered the file from his chest and walked over to her station in the newsroom.
He followed. Her ass looked fantastic, as always, but that wasn’t what made him smile until he’d almost cut his face in half.
She laid all the documents on her desk, yet she wouldn’t let him peek into the file. Zander eyed her curiously, not sure what her deal was, but intrigued nonetheless. More than anything, he liked that she was talking to him again and wasn’t planning on fucking it up.
“Prepare to have your mind blown,” she said.
“Is this an invitation for a hookup? Because I find it hard to believe anything, but your cunt can evoke such—or any—emotion in me.”
He saw her rolled eyes with exaggeration. “Shut up! Zander. This is serious!”
He left the romantic stuff for the notes he’d written for her. He still couldn’t bring herself to say any of it out loud, but he wanted to. Badly.
She shook her head and smiled, sliding Polaroid pictures his way. Of Matheo dining at a restaurant with the channel’s bigwigs.
He raised an eyebrow. “How did you get those?”
“Patrick’s friend's friend...”
“And how did he get those?”
“Patrick hired Danny, who works here, to run an investigation on Matheo.”
“So did I,” he shot back. “So?”
She shrugged. “Patrick paid double.”
“That fucker, Danny,” he sucked in a breath.
Elvie put her hand on his and squeezed. “Not at all. He’s brilliant. He took you both as clients because you had the same goal: bring Matheo down.”
He leaned his hip against her desk and browsed through the images. There were more in her file, but this wouldn’t cut it. “That’s all nice and dandy, but what the fuck am I looking at? Matheo having lunch with the investors without me? I can use it for nothing, other than maybe research for making voodoo dolls.”
Elvie slid a bunch of documents from the file towards me. “Read the highlighted areas. There’s a lot of fluff, profanity, and chauvinism to weed through, but in the end, you’ll find the conversation quite interesting. Especially the revelations in this transcript of the original recording.”
“This is all recorded?” he picked up the papers, eyeing her.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I still won’t be able to use it in court.”
He was testing her, treading carefully over his own secret—a secret he didn’t want to make known yet so Elvie wouldn’t feel pressured into anything. His heart beat so fast that he thought it was going to burn a hole in his chest.
She waved her hand in the documents’ direction. “Just read it, Zander.”
He started skimming through the text, hitting the highlighted parts:
M.L: “…ridiculously easy. I knew he was there, so I pulled out the CCTV footage and found the girl—Elvie something. I made sure the right arrangements had been made and sure enough, the Elvie girl got called for a job interview at SBC, although there was a mix-up and she somehow ended up in another department. I rectified the situation right away, though.”
M.L: “…it was a long shot, but Zander is not as calculating as I am. I figured it was worth a try. And it worked. He got attached so easily and discarded Kristal and his plan completely. Now, we need to decide what we’re doing with SBC…”
M.L: “…I’m pulling out the ads slowly, though we will need to think of ways to terminate the contract completely. My lawyers are working on finding a legal loophole. After all, his father, my best friend, founded SBC. Surely, Zander wouldn't suspect that I orchestrated his parents' accident.”