Roland turned off the overhead light. Good night, Vivien. We'll figure out your mess in the morning. He walked into his own room and shut the door. He didn't lock it.
He lay down on his bed, listening to the rain outside. He had quit his job to escape the chaos of Viven Croft. Yet here she was, sleeping in his living room, dragging her war into his home. He closed his eyes, knowing with grim certainty that the hardest part was just beginning. Morning in the apartment did not come with the soft, synchronized opening of motorized blinds.
It came with the aggressive clatter of a garbage truck backing down the alley at 6:30 a.m. Vivien sat up on the lumpy sofa, her neck cracked. She looked down at the faded fleece blanket pulled around her waist. It had cartoon dogs on it. For a long, disorienting moment, she stared at the dogs, trying to map out where she was and how she had fallen so far.
Then the smell of frying bacon hit her. She stood up, her silk blouse hopelessly wrinkled, her bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor. She walked toward the kitchen. Roland was at the stove, flipping eggs in a scratched teflon pan. He wore gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt.
Khloe sat at the small table, swinging her legs, aggressively coloring a picture of what appeared to be a purple dinosaur. "Morning," Roland said, not looking away from the stove. "Bathroom's free. There's a clean toothbrush in the wrapper on the sink. " Viven crossed her arms, suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled she looked. She was a woman who scheduled her haircut 6 months in advance in Paris.
Now she felt like a stray cat. "I need a phone," Viven said. Her voice was raspy from sleep, but the command was still there. "Good morning to you, too," Roland muttered. He slid the eggs onto two plates.
"My cell is on the counter, but if you call your uncle and start screaming, I'm kicking you out. I don't need corporate espionage waking up the neighbors. Viven ignored the barb. She grabbed the phone, dialed a number from memory, and walked into the narrow hallway for privacy. Roland set a plate in front of Chloe.
"Eat up, Bug. We've got to get you to school. " "Is the towel lady staying? " Kloe asked, stabbing a piece of egg with her fork. "Just for a bit. She's having some trouble at work. Did she get in trouble with her boss?
Roland smiled a tight, ironic smile, something like that. In the hallway, Viven's voice started low and quickly escalated. What do you mean recused? David, you were on a retainer that could fund a small country. I don't care if Richard threatened your partnership track.
You file the injunction or I will personally ensure. She stopped. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at the blank screen. He had hung up on her. Viven leaned back against the cheap drywall.
The drywall gave slightly under her weight. David was her fiercest litigator. If David was backing down, Richard had already bought the firm, or at least terrified them enough to sit on the sidelines. She was truly cut off. She walked back into the kitchen.