The Creepshow: A Novel Page 14

  “It’s all right.” Her voice was soothing, kind, as it had always been. “How about meeting me for lunch? Please. It’s my treat. I’d like to speak with you about something.”

  Wanda hesitated as she glanced at Nelly, calmly playing on her activity mat. She had taken up enough of Galina’s time over the past few days. And after the middle-of-the-night conversation they’d shared, maybe Galina needed some time alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t around simply to serve as Wanda’s sounding board. And Wanda certainly didn’t have the budget for the nanny, who had tears in her eyes when Wanda had explained the situation. Now, it would only be reasonable to hire her for a few hours here or there when Wanda had a job interview.

  “I’m with Nelly, I don’t know—”

  “That’s fine, Wanda. Bring her along. I’ve been there, you know.”

  Traipsing across town with Nelly in the carrier wasn’t fun, especially considering the baby’s weight at eight months old, but Wanda didn’t like how she’d left off with Maddie. She regretted her words and wanted a chance to patch things up. And apparently Maddie had something to tell her.

  Wanda promised to meet Maddie at noon and then hurried through the tasks she’d put off since she’d stuck her nose in the computer. She threw on a pair of jeans, but paired them with red ballerina flats and a matching oxford shirt instead of the beat-up sneakers and old turtlenecks she’d been wearing lately. A light jacket and she was ready to go.

  But as Wanda slipped out the door with Nelly at her chest, she almost tripped on a massive box with a bow on top. Her name was written in big letters, but she didn’t recognize the handwriting. This was obviously from Max or Galina, but nowhere could she find a clue. She ripped at the paper and drew in a sharp breath when she saw this was a gift she couldn’t refuse: a stroller.

  Before leaving, Wanda sent text messages to Galina and Max, asking if either of them had left the gift at her door. She didn’t receive a reply.

  ~~~~

  March in Paris could either be an extension of winter, or a beacon signaling the warmth and sunshine to come. On this particular day, the breeze was gentle, an early taste of spring, as it tossed Wanda’s hair back from her face. Effortlessly, she wheeled Nelly along the wide sidewalks of the sixteenth arrondissement, flanked by plane trees changing their look from gray to green. The sixteenth had plenty of busy avenues and tourist attractions, but there were even more tranquil residential areas that transported Wanda far from city life. As she walked, she savored this sense of calm.

  She met Maddie at the café where they used to have lunch. For the quiche/salad combo they ordered each time. But today, after so many days of reheated noodles and other uninteresting dinners, the salad had never seemed so crisp, the quiche never so tender and fragrant.

  Maddie and Wanda chatted about this and that for a few minutes, as if neither wanted to broach painful subjects. Wanda appreciated this seat at the back of the terrace, tucked between overflowing planters and the glass window. It was quiet so Nelly could snooze and they could talk without overhearing and being overheard by the businesspeople making deals over wine at the tables closest to the street.

  Wanda remembered those days, the long business lunches over several courses and lots of wine. Everything had tasted pretty much the same as she focused on the numbers in her spreadsheets instead of the flavors on her plate. And how much waste was Whilt money responsible for? She hated to think of the quantity of champagne, foie gras, truffles and other delicacies that ended up in the trash.

  When they finished the last bits of lettuce and ordered two coffees, Maddie took a deep breath and lowered her voice.

  “You’re not the only one leaving Whilt,” she said.

  “They’re doing this to someone else?” Wanda’s hands gripped the water glass so tightly she nearly broke it.

  “I’m leaving, and with an… agreement.”

  “But you wanted to stay.” Wanda thought back to their last conversation and the weariness on Maddie’s face. “I didn’t understand why, but I knew you wanted to stay. And I’m sorry. It was none of my business. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you.”

  “You don’t have to apologize again. I understood your frustration. You see, I never wanted to hang onto that job—I needed to. But things have evolved.”

  Maddie’s blue eyes caught hers, and all of a sudden, Wanda realized there was more to be told, and Maddie was about to tell it.

  “Wanda, I didn’t sign the financial disclosure agreement. I couldn’t. If I did, they would have learned that my finances were a disaster and that I desperately needed to keep my job. I would have lost all leverage. They would have demoted me.”

  “But you have dirt on Louis!”

  “Well, so do you…”

  “I… I guess I do, but I’m not as high up in the Whilt food chain.”

  Maddie smirked. “Yes, you’re right. What I had to say would carry more weight than what you might say. But I knew that wouldn’t last very long. Once Whilt saw the debts, they would do a bit more digging, and they would discover Henri’s alcoholism, the gambling. If I dared to drag Louis and the company through the mud, they would ruin Henri’s name and my name forever.”

  “Oh Maddie, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

  “No one does. Even close friends don’t realize what’s happened over the past five years. It started when he was ousted from the firm. He couldn’t get back on his feet, the cocktail hours extended into days. And that’s how the story goes.”

  Wanda held her head in her hands as the waiter set two cups of coffee before them. She inhaled the bittersweet scent, usually one of her favorites, but today it nearly made her gag.

  “So I preempted the drama. I offered Whilt the opportunity to settle with me unless the company wanted me to speak with the press. This isn’t just about Louis. They don’t care about him or anyone else. If it was about him, they would have let him fall and saved some money. No, this is about the Whilt culture. And that, they will defend to the death.”

  “And you agreed to never divulge what you know.” Wanda tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. Before, there was hope that maybe, just maybe, Maddie would change her mind and help Wanda gather a bit of evidence or provide an affidavit. But now, all was lost.

  Wanda sipped her drink, burning her palate, and winced. Tears rose into her eyes, but she blinked them back.

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

  “Because I wanted you to know that a court subpoena overrides any nondisclosure agreement I may sign.”

  Wanda knitted her eyebrows. “You would—”

  “I wouldn’t have a choice,” Maddie said.

  “Maddie, I never thought… I figured Whilt employees would lie in this sort of situation, too afraid of losing their jobs.”

  “How right you are.”

  Now Wanda smiled, a wan little smile, but a smile nonetheless, as she thanked Maddie. She had faith in this woman, who if called to testify, would do so truthfully. Wanda wasn’t foolish enough to think Maddie’s allegiance would change the outcome of her case, but perhaps this ally—this possibility—was one bright spot at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

  Chapter 33

  The screen of Wanda’s cell phone lit up as she huddled in the corner of her bed, a book against her knees. It was past midnight, and she couldn’t sleep. She’d fallen into a rhythm of insomnia, unbroken by warm milk or the music of crashing waves. She tried counting stars and sheep, and watching movies. And then she decided to accept it, reading into the wee hours and then the next day forgetting exactly when her eyes had slipped from the page.

  Wanda’s phone shouldn’t have been on. Usually she turned it off much earlier than this. Her shoulders stiffened, sending her book to the floor with a thud, as the text message arrived.

  Yes, I brought the stroller by.

  Max. He must have just finished his shift at the hospital.

  Wanda typed and retyped several times, words she meant but wasn�
��t ready to say: I’m sorry, I love you, come over, I want you here with me. Then she erased them all and simply wrote: Thank you.

  She tossed the phone back onto the bed, pretending she didn’t care if he replied when really that was all she cared about right in that instant.

  A few minutes passed. Give up, turn off that thing, she told herself. And then it buzzed.

  Max: How are you?

  Wanda: OK. You?

  Max: Tired.

  She held her breath. He could have said “pissed off at you for pushing me away,” but he didn’t. She could have turned off her phone, angry that he had walked out on her and called her selfish. But she didn’t. Max was right. She had been thinking of her own pride before anything else. Still, even knowing this, Wanda was scared to take the risk of being hurt. Whilt had left her broken. She needed time alone to rebuild her confidence, her faith in the world and the people around her.

  Max: Finally having dinner. Reheated takeout noodles. You’d love it.

  Wanda smiled, then typed: Same dinner here.

  Max: Under the same stars.

  Wanda: Yes.

  She pictured those stars from the window of his apartment as they lay side by side, tracing constellations with their fingers. She wanted to be there, back in that moment.

  Max: So when can I see you?

  Wanda took a breath and answered before her heart could instruct her otherwise: I need some time.

  Max: You want to see how long I’ll hold on before giving up?

  Wanda: You’re probably about to.

  Max: Give up?

  Wanda: Yeah.

  Wanda bit her lip. She was being unreasonable. How long would be long enough? When would she trust him? When would she truly believe he wanted to be with her and wasn’t sticking with her because he felt trapped? After the trial, she told herself, but she had no reason—scientific or sentimental—to back that up.

  The phone buzzed.

  I don’t give up this easily.

  Wanda read the words over and over. She was about to continue the conversation, then changed her mind and typed: It’s late, Max.

  Max: Why aren’t you sleeping?

  Wanda: Insomnia.

  Max: Well, that’s obvious but…

  Wanda: Boredom, maybe. I miss my job, and job prospects are abysmal.

  Max: Wouldn’t it be better if we were together?

  Of course it would. But Wanda couldn’t give herself that gift right now. She studied the phone for a few minutes and almost thought it would vibrate once again, but it didn’t.

  So she typed: Goodnight, Max.

  He didn’t reply.

  Chapter 34

  The job interviews were almost nonexistent. The job listings were almost nonexistent. So when Wanda was called for a fund management position at a firm in the old neighborhood, tears flooded her eyes. After weeks of searching, weeks of believing there wasn’t a single position in her field in that city…

  For the first time in a long while, she tossed aside her jeans and donned a real, professional outfit. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and swallowed hard. The same beige silk dress she had worn many times to work, along with the matching suede heels. The smooth ponytail and tasteful nude makeup. She should have looked the same as she did during her days back at Whilt, yet somehow she didn’t. There was a change in her face that she couldn’t identify. A sense of melancholy even when she forced a smile.

  She stared at herself for a while, as if observing a stranger—a pathetic stranger. The nanny’s voice from the other side of the dressing screen broke Wanda from her thoughts. Colette would take Nelly for a walk in the park, then put her down for a nap if she hadn’t already fallen asleep.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Wanda called out. Colette carried the baby over for a quick goodbye, and then the door closed behind their soft voices.

  Confidence, confidence, Wanda repeated to herself as she grabbed her handbag, avoided the mirror and set off for her interview.

  ~~~~

  In the half hour she waited in the conference room, Wanda chewed down one nail, checked her cell phone a dozen times and filled the margins of two pages of her notebook with calculations pertaining to her personal finances. She glanced up a few times at the boring white walls bearing modern art in shades of black and gray.

  “Wanda Julienne? Hello, I’m Joyce Cooper.” A woman about Wanda’s age entered and shook her hand. Her glossy dark hair was wound into a thick bun at the top of her head, and she wore a bright purple dress—an appearance that made her stand out against the blandness of the office. Her smile was wide and bright, but her eyes looked wistful.

  She and Wanda sat, and Wanda didn’t have to wait long to understand the wistfulness.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to be honest: We’re wasting your time. You’re well overqualified for the position we have to offer.”

  Wanda’s heart sank.

  “My assistant shouldn’t have called you in for an interview. I just found out an hour ago, too late to cancel. There might have been some confusion between candidates since we received so much interest in this position.”

  “I’m still interested, Ms. Cooper.” Wanda’s voice took on a pleading tone that shamed her, but she set aside her pride and instead thought about the bills she had to pay. “I don’t expect to find a position identical to the one I’d had at Whilt.”

  “Ms. Julienne, believe me, you wouldn’t last longer than a day in this job. You’re well beyond it. I had a look at your resume and your fund performance. You’re an excellent catch for any firm. You would leave us as soon as the opportunity arose. This job pays less than half of what you made at Whilt.”

  “But would you hire me if I was all right with that?”

  “No,” she said flatly. “We have plenty of candidates perfectly suited to the job. It wouldn’t make strategic sense for us to under-employ and then lose that employee when they found a better opportunity. And don’t say that won’t happen. Because it will. I’ve experienced it and don’t want to again.”

  Her voice was pleasant but firm. Wanda sighed.

  “Look, I know it’s difficult out there.” Ms. Cooper’s sharp dark eyes held Wanda’s. “Senior positions are scarce. I’m hoping things will turn around. But if they don’t, you would be better off changing careers than settling for a job so far below your level. When that happens, everyone is miserable, and performance suffers.”

  Ms. Cooper was right, but Wanda couldn’t overcome the disappointment rising within. She forced herself to smile, to make small talk as the woman escorted her down the hall. And then she was alone, walking along the vast tree-lined avenue on this perfect spring day. She remembered the days spent ensconced behind her desk at Whilt. She remembered longing for the outdoors, for the gentle breeze on her cheek, for the scent of flowers in the air. And now, all she wished for were four walls, a computer and a paycheck.

  Chapter 35

  The man on the other end of the line told Wanda his name was Michael Smith and he was a reporter for The Times. A strange feeling of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach. She had been curled up in the corner of the couch with her laptop, scrolling through the job listings as raindrops pelted the windows above. Every once in a while, she leaned over the edge to rock the lounger where Nelly napped. The ring of her phone had cut through this calm picture, jarring Wanda so that she almost dropped her computer. Now, she stood at the window near the kitchen sink, gazing at the grayness beyond and waiting for Michael Smith to confirm her suspicions.

  “We hear you’re suing your former employer, Whilt, and we’d like to hear your story,” he said.

  Suspicion confirmed.

  “Where did you get your information?” she asked. “And how did you find my phone number?”

  “An anonymous tip. Sorry, I can’t reveal sources.”

  Wanda’s mind raced through the possibilities: Anyone in Whilt upper management, Louis, Maddie, Max, Galina. Clearly, it wasn’t in Whilt’s interest
to make a lot of noise about the case so they were off the list. That left the people who were closest to her. Except for her parents, who didn’t know she no longer worked at Whilt. She hadn’t told them, hoping she could cover things up until she found a new job.

  But Wanda didn’t have time to further analyze the situation. Michael Smith cleared his throat and continued, “So how about a phone chat, Ms. Julienne? We could do it at a time that suits you. We’d like to hear your side.”

  “My side? Do you plan on publishing something whether I talk with you or not?” Her hand was gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She winced, switched hands, and leaned against the counter as if without it for support, she would collapse.

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Wanda’s voice came out like a growl.

  “It’s of interest to a lot of our readers.”

  “If this is true, and I am suing Whilt, what would your readers care about one person’s fight against her employer?”

  “It’s human interest. It’s something a lot of people can relate to.”

  Yeah, human interest all right, she thought. You mean “fodder for people’s curiosity.” If she was famous, the tabloids would be calling right now offering her cash for a few quotes. The whole idea made Wanda sick. Whether a paper had money to offer her or not, she refused to step into a grotesque version of the limelight. She didn’t want to speak to anyone except the lawyers and the judge about what had happened at Whilt.

  “I decline to comment on anything at this time,” Wanda said, borrowing words she’d read many times before. That would put a stop to this pesky reporter. He didn’t have a story without her comments.

  “Think about it,” he said. “You don’t have to decide on the spot. Here’s my contact information…”

  And as he rattled it off, Wanda—determined to never speak with him again—still took note.

  ~~~~