Following the confrontations with Callie and then Tyrese, I decided to take Friday off. After breakfast I sat at the dining table with a notebook open in front of me. But the page was blank as I'd been staring out the window, thinking.
When Tyrese accused me of not caring yesterday, my mind had instantly gone to Callie, not Nat. Knowing Tyrese had been fucking Nat behind my back for months, if not years, didn't much bother me. If I was honest, I was still more upset about Jared kissing Callie.
That paired with the fact I didn't want to move on and find someone else, left me with the underlying truth: I had feelings for Callie.
I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. The problem now was what to do about it.
She didn't want me any longer and I wasn't entirely sure why. She'd questioned my view of women, always protesting she wasn't a slut. But my views were based on vast amounts of experience with those type of women. Except ... what I knew about Callie now didn't fit. Yet she had spread her legs for me within minutes of meeting.
Denaun arrived an hour or so later to find me still seated at the table, wrestling with my thoughts.
"Hey, I just heard about Tyrese. Shit man," he said, shaking his head and sitting down at the table with a soda. "Paul's been trying to get a hold of you. Sent me to tell you to answer your phone."
"Yeah, speak of the devil," I said as my phone flashed Paul's number again and started to buzz on the table. I hit decline.
"Did Tyrese say why he did it?" Denaun asked.
"He's been fucking Natalie, mad at the way I treated her."
Naunie sputtered. "Are you serious?"
I nodded.
"And the hits just keep coming," he muttered. "How are you doing with all this?"
I shrugged and we sat in silence for a bit.
"I've always thought actions meant more than words, ya know? Like someone can say all the shit they want, doesn't make it true. But what they do, that reveals what they're really about," I said, turning to look at Denaun.
He nodded. "That's a sound philosophy."
"But is it? What if someone does something out of character? A behavioral anomaly. How do you tell?"
Denaun thought about it for a moment, nodding slowly. "I don't believe a single action ever defines a person. People are the sum of what they do. So you gotta look at all their actions together. What they do regularly, consistently, is who they are. If one action doesn't fit in with all the rest, that's the anomaly you should probably overlook."
I nodded and turned back to the window. "That's what I was thinking too."
"But that doesn't mean you should overlook what Tyrese's done. Somethings are too big to ignore, anomaly or not."
My phone flashed Paul's number and started to buzz again. I hit decline.
"What?" I asked, turning back to Naunie. "Oh, no. I already fired his ass."
"So you're talking about Nat? You thinking her cheating with Tyrese was a one-off? You still thinking about getting back together with her?" Denaun asked.
"Nah, that was no anomaly," I laughed. "Like Taylor said, we are never ever ever getting back together."
"Good," Denaun smiled as his phone started to ring. Pulling it out, he answered. "Hey. Yeah I'm with him now."
Shrugging an apology at me, he set his phone on the table and hit the speaker button.
"Marshall?" Paul's voice crackled from the phone.
"Whatever it is, can it wait?" I sighed.
"No," Paul said. "Did you hire an escort?"
"What?" I asked, sitting up straight.
"Did you hire an escort?" Paul repeated.
"Come on man!" Denaun laughed. "He don't need to pay for pussy."
"Marshall?" Paul said and Naunie turned to look at me.
I licked my lips, trying to decide how to answer. "Why are you asking? What's going on?"
Denaun's eyes got wide and Paul let loose a tirade of swearing.
"What the fuck were you thinking Marshall? You hired a fucking escort?" Paul screamed through the phone.
"Not exactly," I said.
"How do you not exactly pay and fuck someone?" Denaun asked.
"I set something up, yeah. But I didn't go through with it. Never met up with her, didn't fuck her!"
Technically it was true, even if I thought at the time I was fucking an escort.
"Alright ... That's something I guess," Paul replied. "When did this happen?"
"After I broke up with Nat. I was having a tough time," I said. "Yo, how do you even know about this? I never told anyone."
"Well someone knows. Because they sold the story to a magazine and it's dropping tonight online. They say they have hard evidence. No way I can block it."
"Oh fuck," I swore, closing my eyes. The last thing I wanted was for my girls to read that shit about me.
"The escort?" Denaun asked. "Think she blabbed?"
"Nah," I said. "I never met her. She wouldn't have proof."
Only Josie and Callie knew about my attempt to hire an escort. Had I pushed Callie too far? Had she sold me out?
"I doubt it was anyone connected with the service. Once this is public, the police will investigate and shut the whole thing down. They have everything to lose," Paul said. "More likely it was someone with a score to settle and access to inside information."
"No," I whispered. Callie wouldn't do this to me, no matter what I'd done.
"Yes. I'm sorry Marshall," Paul sighed. "But I think this is what Tyrese was referring to. Nat has something to do with this."
My head snapped up as pieces fell into place. "My phone! She went through my phone after we... uh, broke up. She'd have seen the number in the call log. If she called it, she'd know. Fuck!"
I was on my feet and pacing now. That vindictive bitch!
"Wait. Can't you stop her? Doesn't the nondisclosure agreement mean she can't say anything?" I said, pausing to look at the phone on the table.
"Normally, yes."
"I sense a 'but' coming," Denaun whispered.
"But nondisclosure agreements don't cover criminal activity," Paul continued.
"Yeah and?"
"Marshall, hiring a prostitute is against the law. If she reports that you broke the law, it's not covered by the agreement she signed."
"Fuck!" I yelled, starting to pace again. "What're we gonna do?"
"I'm going to talk to media relations about a possible response. Change the narrative. Maybe we claim you were dating someone over the last couple months. Make that the story. So it doesn't seem possible you were out sleeping with escorts."
I stopped pacing and looked towards the phone. "I was. Sort of."
"What?" Denaun said at the same time Paul asked "Who?"
I bit my lip, suddenly unsure whether I should tell them. "Callie Walker," I said finally.
"I knew it!" Naunie smacked his palm down on the table. "I knew you guys had something going on. The chemistry was off the charts."
"That might work ..." Paul said.
"Except ..." I sat back down at the table. "I screwed it up. She ended things a couple weeks ago."
Paul sighed. Naunie looked disappointed.
"So that's why she quit," Paul said. "I'll see what I can do and get back to you. Next time I call, answer your fucking phone."
Denaun left soon after. I slumped in the chair and returned to staring at my blank notebook.
When the story broke tonight, it wouldn't matter that I'd only hired an escort once. Everyone would judge me for that one time and assume that's who I was.
Like I'd done to Callie ... I groaned. The irony wasn't lost on me. Karma truly is an evil bitch.
And how the fuck was I suppose to get Callie back now? Just as I'd realized she wasn't a slut, every media outlet was about to call me a john.
Things between us were already so fucked up. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be and I should move on.
Flipping through my notebook I tried to lose myself in some lyrics. A post-it on one of the pages caught my eye. I didn't use post-its. Frowning I read the lines.
"Baby I wanna hit it in the worst way, Schemin' on that ass since the first day!"
Borrowing since I don't write lyrics. Doesn't make them any less true. ♥ Callie
There was a lump in my throat as I re-read the LL Cool J lyrics she'd written. Shit.
Jared's words came back to me - if you really want to be with someone, you don't let anything stand in the way. In that moment I knew, I wanted to be with Callie.
Should I call her? And say what? Sorry about everything, I want to give a relationship with you a try. Oh and by the way, I'm about to be dragged on the front of every tabloid. Hope you don't mind. But that has nothing to do with my decision, I swear.
I pushed back from the table in disgust. She'd laugh her ass off before hanging up on me. I'd made a real mess of things.
To distract myself from thoughts of Callie and Nat's impending bombshell, I worked out hard, then showered. It was late afternoon when my phone rang and I grabbed it. "What?"
"Just called to see how you're doing," Denaun said.
"Been better," I admitted, staring at Callie's post-it note that I'd stuck on the bathroom mirror.
"Hang in there. Paul's on it. He's meeting with Callie right now to make her your girlfriend."
My heart stopped. "What?"
"Paul's asking Callie if she'll go along with the plan to say she's been your girlfriend and you haven't slept with escorts."
"Where? How do you know?"
"At the studio. I just walked past as they went into the board room. Paul's got your back. He'll figure this out," Denaun said.
"Thanks. I gotta go."
Grabbing my keys, I headed to the studio at race car speeds. On way I tried to figure out what I wanted to say to Callie. It wasn't that I needed her help. Or that now I understood being judged by a single action. Or that I was sorry and missed her. It was everything.
Outside the board room I took a deep breath, then opened the door. Paul and Callie looked up.
"Marshall, this isn't a good time. Let's talk later," Paul said as he stood and came towards me, preventing me from walking further into the room.
"I need to speak to Callie," I said. "Alone."
Paul shook his head. "Not right now."
"Please," I said quietly.
Paul glanced back over his shoulder at Callie, who gave a slight nod. Sighing, he relented.
"Don't make this any worse!" he whispered to me, then stepped out into the hall and closed the door.
Crossing the room, I took Paul's seat across from Callie. She'd obviously come from work and was dressed in a navy suit jacket and skirt. Her hair was pinned up, showing her neck. Memories of all the times I'd run my tongue down her neck flashed through my mind. I looked down at my hands clasped together on the table to get my thoughts in order.
Now that the moment was here, I wasn't sure how to start. There were so many things I wanted to say, needed to say. Callie sat, arms crossed and waited for me to speak.
"I'm sorry," I said finally, looking up at her. "You don't have to do this, and I wouldn't blame you for saying no. You don't owe me anything."
There was silence as Callie tilted her head, studying me.
"That's ... not what I expected," she said. "No threats, no intimidation, no blackmail?"
"No," I said, with a small smile. "We're not in the bedroom now. That's the rule, right?"
Callie nodded as Paul poked his head in. "Everything okay in here?"
"Paul!" I yelled, annoyed at the interruption.
"It's fine," Callie said, waving Paul back in. "Let's figure this out."
"You'll do it?" Paul asked, shocked.
"I'm willing to hear what you propose," she corrected.
Paul sat back down at the table beside me and open a file. "We'd like to put out a statement denying the allegations and announcing your 'relationship.' This would be collaborated by your attendance together at an awards show next month."
"Is that the only planned public appearance?" Callie asked.
"At this time, yes." Paul nodded.
Callie looked away as she thought it over. When she turned back, it was clear she'd made a decision.
"I have three conditions," she said.
"Name them," I said, willing to agree to almost anything to get her back.
"I'd like to review the statement before it's released."
"Absolutely," Paul agreed. "I'll send it over as soon as it's done. Next?"
"I want your help taking down Dickwad," Callie said to me, then explained for Paul. "A partner at my firm."
"With pleasure," I nodded.
"Its probably best I don't know the details," Paul said, looking pained. "What's the third condition?"
"You pick up the tab for one helluva gown for the awards show," she said. "I'm talking Cinderella on steroids."
I hid a smile. "Anything you want. I'll even throw in shoes."
"Congratulations," Callie said. "You've got yourself a fake girlfriend."
"Thank you," I said, bristling at the word fake. If I had my way, it wouldn't be fake for long.
