The Christmas Crush

Chapter 34

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“I’m going to throw up.” Elena burst through the door to the C-suite-level bathroom, barely registering how much nicer it was than the ones down on her level. White moth orchids in golden pots to match the fixtures, cloying fragrance from a reed oil diffuser. Priya caught up, held back Elena’s hair as she leaned over the toilet. Away from that horrible room, from Derick’s triumphant cruelty, the nausea and cold sweat began to pass. She and Priya relocated to a low faux-leather sofa across from the sinks and a full-length mirror.

Priya opened her arms, and Elena fell against her, sobbing. “I never cry at work. Never,” she insisted as fat, hot tears gushed down her face. Never let them see you cry, Elena.

“I know you don’t,” Priya said. “I think you can have a pass this one time.”

Elena sat upright, clenched her fists. “I’ve been robbed. Robbed and ruined. That worthless tyrant stole our cookie. Mine and Lawrence’s. The one I helped with to convince him I don’t care about this loathsome job. That I cared … care … about him. Want the best for him.”

In the mirror, she saw her skin mottled with angry red patches. She jumped up. “I’m going to ruin Derick Cunningham. See how he likes it.”

Priya took hold of Elena’s sleeve, tugged her back to the sofa. “Cool off first. You cannot confront Derick in this state. You’re going to get fired and arrested. Don’t give me that look; I am not bailing you out.

“Listen, Elena, I hate him almost as much as you do, but this is not the time to let loose. Stay still, will you? We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to help you figure this out.”

Elena stood back up.

“Hey,” Priya warned.

“I’m going to splash off my face.” Elena crossed to the sink; the water ran cold from the tap. She pressed handfuls of it into her skin, makeup ruined. Up here they got rolled terry-cloth towels in a basket instead of the paper towels that always ran out downstairs. She waved a towel at Priya. “This is what I’ve been supporting; this is what I’ve been killing myself for. So these people who don’t know my name can live in luxury.”

She twisted the towel in her hands, almost convinced she could shred it. Wanted the relief of damaging something. She threw it into a basket beside the orchids. Back on the sofa, she cradled her head in her hands. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Derick? Who cares?”

“No. Lawrence.”

“Oh, Elena, give him more credit than that. You can explain what happened to him. He’ll understand.”

The president of product development swung the door open, paused when she saw them. Elena and Priya sat stock still, betraying nothing. While the woman reapplied red lipstick, smiling in the mirror to show bright-white teeth, Elena gulped back tears. Madame President took a tissue from the box on the vanity, blotted her lips, then reopened the tube for a second coat.

“It looks fine, you don’t need more,” Priya said, words ringing out in the eerily quiet room.

The woman’s mouth dropped open. She had the decency to mutter an apology for interrupting before turning on her heel and leaving.

“Priya, are you nuts? That was the president of product development,” Elena said, momentarily shocked out of her own misery. “If she tattles to Derick—”

“I got an offer letter this morning. I’m giving my notice.”

“Priya, I’m proud of you.” Elena’s voice caught in her sticky throat. She was proud, of course, and happy for her friend, but now she would be all alone in this hell until she could find a new job.

“You’re next. I’m sure of it.” Priya tucked a strand of Elena’s hair behind her ear. “And talk to Lawrence. It will be okay. I know it.”

Hands shaking, Elena pulled her phone from her blazer pocket, turned it on. No text from him yet. He was supposed to let her know how Nana was. “His grandma is still in surgery, I think. They’re super close. He was such a mess this morning.”

Dad would say to break news this bad in person. Doing so would make her message clearer, more genuine, give Lawrence a chance to read her body language. She could take the next few hours to compose herself. Lawrence would be able to see how blindsided she’d been by Derick’s actions. She could show him how much she regretted leaving their recipe unattended. Then Lawrence would hold her tight, and together they would find a way forward. There were several days still before the grand opening—time enough to make this right.

“Is that a smile I see?” Priya asked.

Elena nodded, the pressure on her heart relenting. Then the phone rang. Lawrence!

“Hi, is Nana—”

“Don’t you say her name.”

Elena’s eyes widened. His voice sounded much deeper on the phone, far away and furious. Shock at the force of his anger, when all she’d known of him was endearing uncertainty and mildness, made her sink into the cushions astounded.

“What do you—”

“You proved my worst fears about you true. Everyone’s worst fears,” he spat out. “And I defended you, like an idiot. Worse than my worst fears, actually, because never in a million years did I think you would rip off my creation. I believed we were alike—that you knew how precious these things are. Turns out we don’t have a thing in common. And after all that stuff you told me about your dad pushing you to excel, like you didn’t want success as much as he did. At any cost.”

His anger might make sense, but all she heard was the comparison to her father. A flame of equal wrath shot up in her. She floundered for the control she knew she needed; it eluded her, and her words exploded. “That’s what you think of me, is it? Well, let me tell you something—”

“Tell me what? I don’t know what kind of a corn-fed country bumpkin you take me for, Elena, but even I know when I’ve been grifted. The scary thing about you is, you don’t seem to realize what you’ve done is wrong. Remorseless. Like somehow you think things can be fine between us after you cut my throat to get ahead.”

All at once the icy self-possession returned, and she nearly gasped with relief. The shield, the protection. She could counter his attack with equal force, and when she did, he would be the one to hurt. What could hurt more than someone you’d thought understood you assuming the worst, thinking you capable of heartless treachery? Her chin trembled, but her voice went flat as she said, “You know less than you think you do. My boss—the one I’ve told you truthfully mistreats me, the one you alleged you wanted to defend me against—he stole your recipe— our recipe—right off my desk.

“I can accept responsibility for leaving it there, but I will never accept the things you said about me. That you could even think them shows how little you know me. Shows you don’t know me at all and never did, and never could.”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Priya looked at her with horror, tipped her head toward the door to indicate she was leaving. Elena saw her friend walk away, leaving her alone in this cold room. Welcome cold. She checked the mirror to see her skin back to its normal color.

“How am I supposed to believe that, Elena? Don’t try to spin this. Did he also send out the newsletter you told me you write? You know it, the one with the subject line Fall in Love With Our Exclusive Flavor ? Really, Elena? Fall in love ? Was that some kind of joke? A special dig at me to let me know what a complete fool I’ve been? All day I’m sitting here, wondering if my grandmother is going to live or die, and now I have to read an email advertising my cookie with your hashtags.”

Derick. She would deal with him the first chance she got. She let Lawrence’s accusation land between them. Dad always said let people dig their own graves. Half of winning an argument was knowing when to shut up. If Lawrence claimed she was Dad’s clone, she might as well act like it.

“Stop putting New Hope on a pedestal. Real life still exists here, not just in the city. This is my business, my dream, you’re helping destroy.”

That hurt, enough to crack her facade. Enough to let a single tear escape. She flicked it away with the back of her hand.

She cleared her throat. He wanted confidence, polish, heartlessness? She could give it to him. All her life, she’d trained to take down the competition with precision and lethal accuracy. And she could fake it too; she could stifle everything true about herself to give him what he thought he wanted.

“Listen to me, Lawrence. Hear the calm in my voice and know I’m being honest. It’s exactly what Derick did. Which if you had been paying attention to anything I’ve said would make perfect sense.

“What possible reason could I have to lie to you now? Because I want to salvage this relationship, or whatever this was? That’s not a compelling reason to me. According to you, this is the moment I should gloat because I suckered you into giving me what I needed. But that isn’t me. And the truth of the matter is, I felt sick when I found out—only a few minutes ago—what he’d done to me, to us . I was worried about your grandma, and I was worried how I’d convince you I’m sorry the recipe was stolen.”

He didn’t respond, the moment endless, all the awful things they’d said forming a concrete wall between them.

“Okay, listen, things are crazy here.” His voice wavered, yet she didn’t care. He’d compared her to all her father’s worst traits. “I’m sor—”

If you can’t strike first, Elena, then strike hardest.

“As long as we’re being brutally honest here, do you know what you are, Lawrence? Not what I think you are, but what you’ve actually proven yourself to be?” She waited a beat, heard what sounded like a strangled gasp from him. She had to rip out her own heart to make her point, to make him feel as badly as she did. “Another man who expected the least of me. Another man I won’t be able to make happy and who isn’t worth my time. Like my dad. My brothers. Derick. I thought you viewed me differently than they do. But you’re no better. At the end of the day, what you are, Lawrence Higgins, is just some guy I never want to see again.”

With that, she hung up, not giving him time to respond. Because Vosses were bosses, and they always won, no matter how bad it hurt.