Page 43 of The Arrangement

I nodded as she tapped her fingers against the wood of the door, contemplating. She sighed and stepped back. “Come in.”

I walked into her bedroom, shocked and relieved to see that it was triple the size of Mallory’s and starkly opposite in hygiene. There were no plates of rotting food or piles of clothing lying around. Instead, the room was pristine. Her closet was neat and color coordinated, her bed made, desk with a laptop in the corner tidy and organized. To my surprise, I realized the room smelled like her. I hadn’t realized I knew her scent until that moment, but being in that space, I was brought back to the office and the many times she’d leaned over to hand me a stack of papers or come near me to point to a place where I’d need to sign. It was warm and sweet, filling me with a strange sense of calm.

“Thank you,” I said as she shut the door. She crossed her arms, staring at me as she waited for me to start saying whatever it was I needed to say. “First of all, I wanted to apologize again for ditching you in the middle of dinner the other night.”

She didn’t respond.

“Like I told you, there was an emergency at home, and I didn’t have a choice… I had to rush. I was hoping to see you at work today so I could pay you back for the meals and explain better.”

“I called out,” she said. “Not because of you. I needed some time for myself.”

“Sure… I totally understand,” I said eagerly, pulling out my wallet. “How much was it? I want to cover both our meals.”

She reached out, putting her hand over my wallet and pushing it away. “I don’t want your money, Peter. I make practically the same salary as you, and I don’t have a family to support. Trust me, I’ve got it.”

“Well, I’d still like to pay.”

“I don’t want it,” she said.

I felt myself growing warm with embarrassment. “Well, let me take you out again, then? To make up for it?”

A small smile grew on her lips, but she forced it back down, as if it had snuck up on her. “I don’t know. This is all a little too much.”

“The Mallory thing? I didn’t know she was your roommate. I had no idea, I swear.”

She scoffed. “She’s my tenant. I own the place, rent out the two top floor bedrooms, and she’s batshit crazy, so yeah, I’m a little concerned about the whole you’ve-slept-with-my-roommate-who-will-probably-start-adding-Nair-to-my-shampoo thing. Plus, you’ve got your family, and there are things going on there you can’t or won’t discuss. It’s…a lot. And I’m just coming off a breakup myself. I need calm for a while and this isn’t it.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. For the record, I wish it wasn’t this way…” I was hit with a sudden pang of sadness for her and for what could’ve been if we’d met under different circumstances.

“Look, I know you’re technically my boss and you could fire me for saying this, but…if you want your life to be something different than it is, just… God, fix it, Peter. It’s your life, and absolutely no one has more control over it than you.”

“Well, it’s not that simple, is it? Some circumstances are out of my control.”

“Then get them under your control,” she said. “Don’t hook up with random girls you don’t know. Figure out your shit with your wife—stay in your marriage or get out, but quit straddling the line. People like to pretend they have no control over the way their life turns out, but the truth is that they just refuse to deal with the hard stuff because it’s too painful and messy. You know what’s even more painful and sticky? Prolonging bad situations for your own comfort. No one can solve your problems for you, Peter. No one wants to.” She sighed, her eyes filling with sorrow. “Just…figure it out.”

“I will,” I promised her. “I am.” At that moment, I knew she was right. No one had ever said it to me like that, but she was right. I needed the tough love she’d given me. I needed to take control. I needed to handle this. No longer was I going to let Ainsley control everything. I was an adult whose future was being decided by our next moves. I had every right to make decisions about our lives.

“Good,” she said, then reached for the door. “You should go. I’ll see you at work.”

“Thank you,” I said, shuffling across the room and out the door. I felt the urge to apologize again, but I resisted.

I walked out of the townhome, surprised to see Mallory waiting by my car. “Are you leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah, I should get going,” I said hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have come by. Listen, I’m sorry for…”

“Wasting my time? Making me look like an idiot? Embarrassing me in front of my roommate?”

“Yeah, that… I never meant to waste your time, Mallory. I had a lot of fun with you—”

“Don’t,” she cut me off. “I know who I am, okay? I know why men like you choose to match with me. I was nothing more than a one-nighter to you, and that’s fine. But then you showed up here today all Love, Actually, and I thought ‘hm, Mallory, maybe you were wrong about this one… Maybe he’s one of the good guys.’ I thought you were going to do some big romantic gesture like the fucking idiot I am.”

“You’re not—”

“But I was wrong, like always. You aren’t one of the good guys, Pete. You aren’t one of the good guys at all.” She launched her foot back and kicked my car’s bumper, cracking the plastic.

“What the hell?” I demanded, staring at her in disbelief.

“Serves you right,” she huffed, storming past me. “Don’t fucking contact me or come here ever again.”

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