Page 82 of Broken Headboards
We settle in, with me across from Tess and Taylor opposite of Ashley. I look around, assessing the bar we’re at. It’s a ridiculously hipster venue, and I roll my eyes, hating every minute of this fake bullshit. I would never be here if it wasn’t for the urgency in Taylor’s voice.
“We sincerely apologize for what happened,” Ashley breaks the silence between us. “With the whole Giannoni incident. It was all my fault,” she admits, sipping her white wine.
“What do you mean, all your fault?” Tess twist her body to face her square on.
“Well…” Ashley clears her throat and glances up at Taylor, almost like she needs back-up.
She continues. “I found the number of Giovanni Giannoni on Taylor’s desk. I snooped and looked at the file. That’s when I found out that he was this world-renowned designer. I knew I had to tell you, Tess,” she reaches for her, grabbing onto her elbow to emphasize her point. “But apparently, Taylor had the same idea.”
“We wanted to help the both of you in the competition. We just shared the same information to both of you,” Taylor jumps in, trying to throw Ashley a fucking life preserver.
“Oh…I see,” Tess turns back to face me, and clasps her hands together between us.
“Wow, ok.” I nod my head, not wanting to understand but I do appreciate them looking out for us.
Let’s be honest, if it were Tess and I, we would probably do the same.
“Seriously, Austin. It was an innocent mistake,” Taylor says in defense.
“I understand. I do,” I take a gulp of my whisky. It stings worse than my usual. It’s not the typical top-shelf I order, considering their top shelf here is about half the quality.
“Seriously, don’t blame her,” Taylor jabs back, sliding his drink over to him.
“It’s ok. We probably would’ve done the same,” Tess admits, and glances over at me. Did she read my fucking mind?
“There’s another thing,” Taylor says, letting his words linger on his tongue.
“Yeah?” I ask, not really wanting to know but my as well get this shitshow over with.
Ashley looks away from the table, but then swivels back to Tess in a swift motion. “It’s too late. You missed the contest.”
“Excuse me?” Tess spits out vodka and soda, almost choking on it.
“You missed the contest, both of you,” Taylor adds, looking at us with all sincerity. “Being handcuffed and jailed kind of makes you ineligible. Especially when that’s the reason why you didn’t show up to the contest at all.”
“Jesus Christ,” I lean my elbows on the table, running my hands in frustration.
“Clarendon Towers has decided to keep looking,” Ashley says, distress coating her voice.
“Are you serious?” Tess whimpers, covering her mouth to try to hush her emotions overwhelming her.
I reach for her hand across the table, but she moves it away.
Fuck.
Don’t do that. Please don’t do that, baby.
“Tess…” I plead, but she ignores me, not moving her gaze from Ashley.
“We will be here if you need any help, and we’ll let you know if anything changes,” Taylor says, reassuringly. He finishes his drink. “And, seriously, we wish you the best of luck. There’s a reason why you both were in the final round.”
Ashley and Taylor both stand up, their seat screeching across the concrete floor.
“You don’t need my luck. But, please, let me know if you need anything,” Ashley reaches for Tess’s hand, wrapping into hers in a warm, comforting gestures. “Jut let me know if there is anything I can do.” She kisses her on the cheek and turns towards Taylor.
He holds his hand out and she grabs it, and they walk together, hand in hand, towards the exit. It’s like a fucking thriller movie, two accomplices walking together out the door as the world collapses around them. That’s how I feel right now. Expect I’m the one standing there watching this happen. I’m the extra in the back falling into those deep crevices, convincing the audience I’m dead.
I watch my world fade to black and turn back to Tess, who’s quietly sobbing into her hands. I reach up and tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
