Page 74 of Dreaming of Dawson

“How could he not understand?” I say, shaking my head. “You’d put in eighty thousand, and he’d sold at a seventy-two thousand dollar loss, so by the time all the fees were paid, you were left with…”

“Nothing,” she says, blinking back her tears. “There was actually a small deficit, which he made a point of telling me his uncle was going to cover. He made it sound like I should be grateful for that, even though I’d lost my grandmother’s inheritance.”

“You didn’t lose it. He did.”

“Maybe. But I felt terrible about it. Not just for myself, but for my parents.”

“Why? They’d agreed it was a good idea.”

“I know, and they didn’t blame me.”

“Good, because it wasn’t your fault. It was his.” I shift a little closer and move my hand from her neck, putting my arm around her. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, and she looks up at me, tilting her head to one side.

“He didn’t think so, and neither did his uncle.”

“What did his uncle have to do with any of it? Hadn’t he caused enough trouble already?”

“Evidently not. He overheard us arguing. That’s not surprising. We were pretty loud, and Mr. Thornton came marching into James’s room, telling us to keep the noise down. James explained that he’d told me about the apartment, and then Mr. Thornton asked to see me in his office. I assumed he was gonna tell me off for bringing my personal problems with James into the office, and I was gonna tell him I didn’t care, and that his nephew had brought it all on himself by losing my inheritance for me.”

“Is that what happened?”

“No. He fired me.”

“He what?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, so he didn’t actually fire me, but he asked me to leave… which is pretty much the same thing.”

“What reason did he give?”

“He said it wasn’t working out, and he thought I’d be better off looking for a position elsewhere. He paid me three months’ severance, and to be honest, by the time I walked out the door an hour later, I was glad to get out of there.”

“Did you settle with James about the property?” I ask.

“Not exactly. I made it clear I wasn’t gonna just accept the situation. Then I wrote to James and told him I wanted him to pay me back… maybe not my entire inheritance, but at least half of it. I’d talked it over with Mum and Dad and they’d agreed that was fair.”

“It was more than fair.”

She shakes her head. “Not according to James.”

“Did he disagree?”

“His lawyers did. They wrote back a very formal letter, explaining that as James and I weren’t married, I had no claim. I’d taken the risk independently, and had to accept the loss in the same manner.”

“Seriously?”

“That’s what they said. I wasn’t sure it was true, but in the meantime, while I’d been waiting to hear back from James – or as it transpired, his lawyers – I’d also been looking for a job. The first one I applied for was at another web design company. They interviewed me, and it all sounded really promising, but then they emailed to say they didn’t think I was suitable. After that, I applied for three more jobs, and didn’t even get called in to interview. I was getting low on money, and beginning to despair of finding anything, when I bumped into one of the people I’d worked with at WJT. I thought she was still there, but it transpired she’d left not long after me, and she’d got the job I’d gone for, at the place that had said I wasn’t suitable.”

“Did that bother you?”

“No. Not until she told me she’d heard that William Thornton had been telling people in the industry that I was unreliable. He’d even dropped hints about me stealing other people’s designs and passing them off as my own. My friend explained to me that she’d told her new boss that none of William’s lies were true, but it was too late for me by then. His word carried a lot more weight than hers ever would – or mine for that matter – and people had clearly listened to what he said. It was only when I got home that evening and found the letter from James’s lawyer on the table that I realized how much I’d lost. Not just my savings, but my career, too… and all because I slept with my boss.”

I shake my head, leaning in to her. “It wasn’t because you slept with your boss, Macy. It was because your boss was a coward, who didn’t deserve you.”

“Either way, I’m still the one who lost everything,” she says, sounding unconvinced.

“What did you do?” I ask. I’m not giving up on persuading her she’s wrong, but I’d like to know how she wound up at my door.

“I ran away,” she says, looking up at me. “I’m good at it, in case you haven’t noticed.”

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