Page 208 of By A Thread
No, I chose to hurt people in other ways.
The realization was crashing over me like a brick wall when a new email popped into my box. Ally Morales.
I clicked it before I was even conscious of grabbing the mouse.
Subject: Itemized remittance sheet.
The message itself was blank. But attached was a spreadsheet with estimates of food, utilities, gas, the storage unit I’d rented for her father’s furniture, and the entire renovation bill from her father’s house. There was a notation at the bottom. First payment $50.
Because she no longer had a job thanks to me. She had nothing until the house went on the market and sold. Even then, the money went to the nursing home.
I swore under my breath. I was an asshole. Lower than low. Ally Morales was worse off having met me.
I jumped up, intending to get my coat. I’d made a very big mistake, and I wasn’t sure I could live with myself now.
There was another knock at my door.
“Go away,” I snarled.
But the knocker was either feeling brave, or they’d underestimated how much I wanted to punch someone.
Malina the Maneater stepped into my office.
“Not now, Malina,” I snapped. I didn’t have time to fend off another one of my father’s ex-lovers.
“This is important,” she said.
I doubted that very much. But when I looked at her, really looked at her, I realized there was something off. For one, she was wearing jeans. For two, she didn’t have any makeup on. She looked softer, younger, less angry.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Well, first of all. I quit.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Just go with it. It’s this whole full-circle moment for me. I turned down the job your father offered me atIndulgencethis morning.”
That caught my interest.
“He offered you a job, you turned it down, and now you’re quitting this job?”
She nodded. “It’s been brought to my attention that I don’t have the healthiest priorities.” She cleared her throat. “I’m leaving New York. But I wanted you to know some things first. Things I’m not proud of.”
I closed my eyes. “Malina, you don’t need to walk me through your personal life. I know you and my father were… involved.”
“It’s not that. Or only that. I fed him information after he left. Things aboutLabeland…” Her gaze shifted to the ceiling. “About your mother.”
I doubted there was much about my mother that an admin could uncover that my father wouldn’t have already known.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I wasn’t the only one still friendly with him,” she said.
“Who else?” I asked.
“Irvin. We had a few dinners, the three of us. Your father promised him managing editor atIndulgence.”
“Also, Irvin wasn’t dipping his pen in the company ink, if you know what I mean. But that doesn’t mean he was innocent.”
