Page 107 of Arranged Obsession
“I miss you guys,” I admit after we make a little more small talk. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I don’t know how you manage to handle Grace House. I feel like it’s got to be overwhelming.”
“Just doing the best I can every day. Trying to keep my head down.”
“What about the big picture?”
“You know, it’s funny. I’ve found that if I keep on doing my best day to day, usually the big picture stuff sorts itself out.”
“Ah, yes, the magical funding fairy.”
She laughs at that. “I’ve got my ways, you know that. There’s always money somewhere.”
“But don’t you sometimes feel like you’re just—” I pause, aware that I’m getting into dangerous territory. Kate and I are friendly, but I wouldn’t call usfriends, exactly. She always felt like more of a mentor than anything else. “I don’t know, like you’re not good enough? Like you don’t belong?”
There’s a short silence on her end and I’m thinking I screwed everything up. But then she lets out a sigh. “All the time,” she admits. “I’m not perfect. Lord knows it. But I do my best, same as anyone else.”
“I know, but what if your best isn’t nearly enough?” I start pacing in the hall, gesturing with my free hand as I talk. “You know my family. I never talked about them, but I know you’re aware of who they are. I’m out here in New York, and I feel like I worked so hard to keep myself on the straight and narrow, like I’ve been doing my best to do good, but it’s never enough. Like I’m starting to slip, you know.”
“Oh, Bianca, I’ve never met anyone harder on themselves than you are,” she says softly. When she wants to be gentle, there’s nobody else in the world better at making a person feel calm than Kate. That social worker voice works on me, even though I know she’s doing it. “I don’t want to know specifics, because you’re right, I do know who your family is. I know it can’t be easy growing up with that, but I also know you’re a good person.You’ve done a lot for us here, and we love you for it. You touched lives in positive ways. That counts for something.”
“I just feel it slipping,” I whisper, staring grimly at the trophies lined up on the shelves. I think about staring through the sniper rifle’s scope at Taras Morozov and how badly I wanted to pull the trigger. I’ve never wanted to kill before. But now that doesn’t even seem so crazy. “Is there ever a time to bend your morals? If the situation is extreme enough?”
“That’s the thing about morals,” Kate says, sounding surer of herself than I’ve ever felt in my life. “They’re not easy. If they were, everyone would be walking around doing good deeds and being perfect little saints, but we both know that’s not how the world works. It takes a strong person to refuse to bend when it gets convenient. Doing the right thing doesn’t always feel good. But you’ve got to do it anyway.”
I let out a long breath and slump against the wall. “You’re right. I know you are.”
“Whatever you’re going through, you’ll be okay. I know that for sure. And if you ever need help, you know where we are. Anyone’s welcome. No matter what.”
“Thanks for talking to me.”
“Call more often. Seriously. You wanna lay on some seriously twisted moral shit on me? Go for it. You know I’ve heard it all.”
I smile to myself and wonder if she’s ever talked to a woman that fucked a psycho serial killer next to a sniper rifle aimed at a high-ranking Bratva member’s skull. Probably not. But maybe.
My office iscold and quiet. Finn and Leo are in some meeting about the fake food delivery service with potential local investors. “Do they know we’re really selling drugs?” I ask as the two men head into the conference room.
Leo only shrugs and grins. “Who fucking cares?”
I wonder if I’m the only person who still does.
My conversation with Kate keeps running through my head. I have a thousand tasks ahead of me, but I can’t concentrate on any of them. Ever since my little date with Cormac and the sniper rifle, I’ve been thinking about who I am and what I want. I’ve been worried about the kind of person I’m becoming.
How can I love a monster? And still be a decent person?
There’s a knock at my door. I look up and my husband’s there. He smiles slightly at me as I wave him over and tilt my chin up for a little kiss before he settles into a chair.
“You summoned and I came running,” he says, stretching slightly.
I take a moment to admire his muscular body. “It’s almost as if you were lurking outside.”
“I’m always lurking somewhere.”
“That’s your best trait, if you ask me.”
“Please, darling wife, we both know your favorite thing about me.”
“If that’s a sexual reference, please get your head out of the gutter.”
He feigns shock. “Never. I’m a saint.”
