Page 97 of Lessons in Forgiving
I wasn’t worried when Eddie called me into his office. I was confident I’d nailed that profile. Humor, dynamic, facts and all.
It showed Henry the way I’d gotten to know him. As his ex-girlfriend and friend and journalist. Wasn’t that what would make it unique? That I’d seen and written about a side of him not many people would ever experience? That he’d spoken about his parents, his childhood more candidly than ever before?
Ed smiled at me when I got to the office, door open like always. “Paula,” he said by way of greeting, walking around his desk. But my attention wasn’t on him or the fact he was closing the door behind me further, leaving only a small crack open.
It was fully and entirely on the perfect blonde blowout and the body attached to the hair. Lacy threw a glance across her shoulder, smiled. “Hey. Thought you might not make it in time.”
Her backhanded comment was like a slap to the face, and I whirled to Eddie, watching him walk back behind his desk. He sat.
“What is this?”
He gestured to the second chair on the other side of his desk, and I followed the request. He cleared his throat.
“Lacy has—” He hesitated, shook his head. “Asked to meet us. Both.” His tone indicated he had no idea what for, either. By his preliminary door closing, though, he expected it to be… unpleasant.
“Yes,” she quipped. “Thank you.” Her eyes slid to me when she spoke next. “I didn’t want to go behind your back with this, Paula. It would’ve felt wrong not to have you here, I think.” Innocence radiated in the blue of her eyes, her soft voice.
I tensed up when she handed Eddie a brown envelope, and I interpreted the curl of her lips when he pulled pictures out of it as anI wanted to see your face when I did this.
“What am I looking at?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowing at the A4 print of averyfamiliar photo. My eyes snapped to Lacy.
“How— ?”How did you get those?I wanted to ask. But it sounded so incriminating, I cut myself off. My eyes trailed back to Henry and me on the photo.
Had Hallie sold us out?
Even if she had, she wouldn’t have known what she was selling us outfor—wouldn’t have done anything wrong, technically. Just sold photos of the newest NYBE addition and a rumored girlfriend to the highest bidder. But somehow, she didn’t seem like the type. Seemed like she would’ve at least let me know.
And anyway, how would Lacy have known to look for them in the first place?
She cleared her throat. “I found these in my inbox, Ed. Coming from Paula, of all people. Maybe she wanted to forward them to Henry but copied me instead?” She speculated out loud to make her lies more believable.Iknew that. Did Eddie?
I hadn’t sent her anything. I didn’t think Lacy was eveninmy email contacts. But when I frantically felt for my phone in mybag, logged into my school email and clicked on mysentfolder, there it was.
An email with attachments, addressed to [email protected]. Two weeks ago, on the day of my first draft deadline, which had robbed me of so much sleep; it would probably be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.
Coincidentally, it was also the day Henry had called me, came to the office and almost had me in that broom closet of an interview room. The day I’d left Lacy alone in the office, and I couldn’t remember whether I’d locked my computer before I answered that call.
“And…” Eddie cocked his head, brows drawn together. “What are these supposed to… show me?” He shuffled through the prints, then placed them on his desk. The one where Henry and I laid on the pitch topped the stack. I cringed.
Lacy blinked one, two, three times before landing her killing blow. “That Paula fucks her subjects for information. I heard Riley say it in the office. I know Henry came to see Paula here, too. And who knows what happened in New York?”Nothing!“I think the pictures speak for themselves, though.”
I flinched at the harsh language; how unapologetically she threw the accusation around the room. All the circumstantial evidence that, presented like this, seemed damning enough. Even Eddie, who wasn’t shocked by much, drew back in his chair.
“That’s coercion,” Lacy offered, when neither of us said anything—I was still too shocked, and Eddie was probably trying to figure out the best way to reply. “Clearly,” she pressed, eyes beginning to flicker between us. “And who knows how long she’s been doing that? In what other instances she’s used her body to get what she wants?”
When had Ievergotten what I wanted?
Last I remembered, I hadn’t gotten a damn thing for an entire year, then got stuck with a project I didnotwant. I almost roared the words at her, but I stayed quiet. I wasn’t sure why, either.
“Those first external gigs,The New York Times. Then the Ivy project.” She trailed off. “They always seemed a little too good to be true, right? Who knows. Maybe she knew a friend of a friend of a friend, who knew the editor in chief, and… you get my drift.”
The breath I’d drawn in was so sharp, I couldn’t speak—couldn’t do anything but shift my eyes to Ed, watching his reaction carefully. “She uses her body to get what she wants, then to get them on the record with what she needs. Maybe that’s why that source said she lied—”
“Lacy,” Eddie finally snapped. “That’s enough.” His voice reverberated in the hallway, bounced off the walls.
“No!” She matched his tone. Snappy and loud. Like she’d had enough—of what, I wasn’t quite sure. “I should’ve gotten this profile, Ed! And you know it!” Her chair scraped against the floor when she pushed it back, stood, and spread her hands on the mahogany desk. “I’m tired of losing shit to PaulafuckingCastillo.”
Eddie rose to meet her eyes. “I don’t know what kind of jealous rivalry thing you two have going on. Frankly, I don’t care.” His eyes twitched into a glare. “But how on earth am I going to give you a profile Paula was specifically requested for?”
