I just cross my arms and give him a withering look.
After all he’s done if he thinks I’m getting rid of the people who have been by my side through all of this for his sake, he’s sorely mistaken.
He swallows and gives a subtle nod as though he deserves that.
“I…I came to make it up to you, Honey. I was an ass about all of this.”
“No disagreement there.”
Esmerelda mutters something in agreement in Spanish under her breath next to me.
“I wanted to get in touch, to at least call or text, but this business thing…. The Astons hold all the cards. The truth is, Hickenbatter? We need them more than they need us. Muffy insisted that she be the one to talk to you first.”
It’s all just noise in my ears.
I’m already done with Francis, and seeing him for the first time since that lunch only proves it.
“She told me how your meeting went,” he says, giving me a sheepish look. “How you…you weren’t interested in—”
“I most certainly was not,” I finish for him, my eyes wide with indignation. “And I remember telling you as much at our lunch—our final lunch.”
“Honey, please. Let me make it up to you. I’ll leave her if that’s what you want.”
I want to laugh.
“It shouldn’t have to be about what I want, Francis,” I point out. “It should be what you want.”
“I do! Don’t you see that? That’s why I’m here. I want to end this farce. Muffy? She—she’s nothing like you.”
I exhale a laugh, not bothering to verbally agree with that obvious assessment.
“At least take these flowers. Just as a first token of my apology, my willingness to make this up to you, Honey. I want you—need you!”
I stare at the flowers. Once upon a time, I would have been hypnotized by such a gorgeous bouquet. Now, I see them for what they are, a mask, hiding the pathetic excuse for a man that I thought I once loved.
“Honey?”
It isn’t Francis’ voice that breaks my spell.
I turn around to see Giuseppe standing there. He’s holding a sad bouquet of roses that have certainly seen better days.
“Giuseppe,” I say softly, reading his face for clues.
His eyes dart to Francis. I see them land on the huge, perfect bouquet of roses, then fall back to the pathetic bunch in his own hands.
I want to shout that it doesn’t matter! Roses don’t matter! Tokens of affection don’t matter!
All that matters is, he’s here.
But I’m still speechless.
“I wanted to get you somethin’,” That Jersey accent is like music to my ears. “Somethin’ I thought you deserved. This was all I could find close by. I just wanted to let you know what I thought of you up on that stage. That show was…”
His eyes say everything.
“Spectacular?” Rose offers.
“Amazing?” Annabelle adds with a giggle.
“Perfecto,” Esmerelda says in a warning tone.
“You,” He says, his focus all on me. “It was you, Honey. And…I loved it.”
“Who is this, Honey?”
Francis’ voice is grating, ruining the moment.
Then Giuseppe, just like Superman, comes in to save the day.
He turns to Francis with a hard, meaningful look, his eyes so piercing with intent I’m surprised his glasses don’t crack.
“I’m the man who’s never letting her go.”
My hero.
Chapter Thirty-One Giuseppe
“I quit.”
It’s Wednesday and I’m in Doug’s office. When I came up here at his vehement insistence—considering I ignored emails from him Monday afternoon and all day Tuesday, having used yet another “sick” day—his face was already red with anger. I’m assuming he got an earful from Congressman Bowen after my phone call.
“You—you what?”
“I quit.” I say it in such a calm voice it borders on impudence.
He leans in to give me a hard look. “I don’t think you understand what you’re saying here, Jesse.”
“It’s Giuseppe,” I reply with an edge in my voice. “And yes, I do understand what I’m saying. For the third time, I quit.”
Doug falls back in his chair with an incredulous laugh. “Son, you don’t have to worry about quitting. After that stunt you pulled with Congressman Bowen, you’re already ten kinds of fired.”
“On that note, let’s discuss the terms of my severance.”
“The terms?” He hiccups another laugh. “How about these terms? Get the hell out of my office and security will meet you at yours to escort you out.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of two years salary, plus my bonus and benefits for the entire year.”
That stuns him into silence.
If he’s smart, he’ll have picked up on the fact that people without leverage don’t make that kind of ballsy request.
Turns out he’s smarter than he looks. His eyes narrow with suspicion. “And just why the hell would ABC even entertain such an outrageous severance?”
“Because they want to stay in business.”
“Perhaps you’d like to get to the part where you explain that one?”
I lean in, giving him a studious look. “Let’s start with campaign finance law.”
The way his eyes briefly go wide tells me everything I need to know.
“From there—and this might be more appropriate to discuss with David Winters—we can discuss the Abernathy Trust issue and a late filing?”
I still have no idea exactly what happened there, but just the threat of it is probably enough to scare ABC into meeting my demands, if only to avoid a scandal.
“I think those two things alone might be worth what I’m asking.”
I can see him doing the math in his head. All in all, it will be nearly a million dollars when you factor in the cost of everything.
“Maybe I should make another phone call to Congressman Bowen, see how he feels about it all. He’s got an election coming up soon, doesn’t he?”
“You and your career are over ten ways from Sunday. As it is, you’ve already burned any bridge you have with regard to getting a job at another firm.”
He hasn’t said no, which means I definitely hold all the cards.
“Good thing I’m not interested in crossing that river. I have other plans.”
I only have an inkling of an idea of what I want to do.
