“No.”
“Yes.”
Eleanor was crying too.
Zoe noticed.
“You cried more.”
Eleanor laughed through tears.
“I think I did.”
Then Zoe said something Eleanor never forgot.
“My daddy helps people.”
She leaned against Marcus.
“That’s why he wasn’t there.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
He had spent all night thinking that helping Eleanor made him fail Zoe.
His daughter had somehow managed to hold both truths without choosing between them.
Eleanor left just after eight.
Marcus ordered a rideshare.
She wore his old Hornets shirt and gray sweatpants beneath her winter coat because her dress was still stained.
At the door, she turned.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“I will not tell anyone a version of this that isn’t true.”
He nodded.
She continued.
“And if somebody else does, I will correct it.”
“Thank you.”
She looked toward Zoe.
“I’m sorry your dad missed your play.”
Zoe smiled.
“He watched it.”
“Yes.”
Eleanor nodded.
“He did.”
Monday morning, Marcus arrived at Langford & Price twenty minutes early.
His stomach had hurt since waking.
He expected HR.
Whispers.
Looks.
Some rumor.
Anything.
Nothing happened.
The receptionist smiled.
Todd Baxter complained about traffic.
Two analysts argued over a forecast model.
Marcus reached his office.
No meeting invitation waited.
No voicemail.
No email.
He sat down.
Then his computer notification appeared.
Meeting request: Eleanor Whitmore — 10:30 a.m.
Marcus stared.
At exactly 10:30, he entered Eleanor’s office.
The door remained open.
He noticed immediately.
So did she.
“I thought you might prefer that.”
“I do.”
Eleanor sat behind her desk.
No makeup beyond what she normally wore.
Dark green suit.
Hair perfectly styled.
Almost impossible to reconcile with the woman on his couch forty-eight hours earlier.
“I wanted you to hear this directly.”
Marcus waited.
“I informed HR that I became intoxicated at Friday’s reception and that you assisted me when I could not safely arrange transportation.”
Marcus felt his shoulders tighten.
“I also documented that you behaved professionally.”
“Did they ask why you were at my house?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth.”
Eleanor opened a folder.
“I included my sister’s name if HR needs verification that I initially woke disoriented.”
Marcus’s stomach tightened again.
Eleanor saw it.
“I also told them explicitly that there was never an allegation against you.”
He breathed.
“Thank you.”
“There shouldn’t need to be a thank-you.”
“No.”
“But there is.”
Eleanor closed the folder.
Then she looked at him differently.
“I reviewed your personnel file.”
Marcus frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I realized something.”
“What?”