Chapter Text
“This is… this is ridiculous. Sir, with all due respect, I can’t just look the other way on this."
The papers splayed on the desk between them are too damning. If Carolina hadn’t seen them with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. Well, that’s not quite true. It’s easy to not believe in things you don’t see. But there it is in black and white, the proof she’s been denying for… an embarrassingly long time.
Leonard Church Senior barely blinks at her as he glances up from his computer and then down at the papers. “And what exactly do you find so ridiculous, Carolina?”
She just stares at him, her mouth falling open. How can he just sit there? It doesn’t even sound like he cares.
That’s because he doesn’t, says a part of her brain that sounds just like Leo. He doesn’t care about a goddamn thing. He never has.
Carolina grabs a few pieces of paper at random. It doesn’t matter which, honestly. They’re all equally damning. “You’ve been embezzling, and paying people off, and investing in--these companies can’t be legitimate. Sir, this is… are you even going to deny it?”
“I fail to see what that would accomplish,” he says flatly, already returning to whatever he’s working on.
She wants to put his face through the damn monitor. But she knows how that would go. The files on Wash are there along with everything else. It strikes her then that she doesn’t have to wonder… she’s absolutely sure he would do just the same to her. His own daughter and she knows for damn sure he wouldn’t even hesitate.
Because he doesn’t care. About her. About any of it.
“I quit.” The words tumble from her lips almost thoughtlessly.
That at least makes him look up, one brow rising ever so slightly. Oh, now she’s surprised him. Of course.
Carolina steps back, lifting up her hands. “I’m not going to be part of this anymore, not for another second. I’m done.”
For the first time in years, her father looks at her with something other than vague disinterest in his eyes. There’s curiosity there as he tips his head slightly to one side. “And you’re not threatening to turn me in? To expose all this?”
She can’t stop herself from scoffing as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Would that do any good? I know your lawyers--Price was my mentor for years. Knowing him, if I go to the police with any of this, they’ll show up at my door the next day to arrest me for all of it instead.”
And maybe they should. It’s not a pleasant thought, but… she’s signed off on things she shouldn’t have. She’s cut corners where it was necessary, not looked too closely at things that had bright red warning flags all over them. There’s excuse after excuse to explain it, but that doesn’t make her any less complicit.
Because she should have known all along. It’s not as though the signs weren’t there. York and Leo have been right all along. And they’re never going to let her hear the end of that.
“Well now, aren’t you clever?” He’s not denying it. For some reason, her father smiles as he leans back in his chair, tenting his fingers. “So… is that all then? You’re just going to walk out that door?”
Carolina squares her shoulders. “Are you going to stop me?”
He regards her for a few long moments before leaning forward and hitting the intercom button on his desk. “Phyllis? Would you mind sending up security to escort Carolina from the building?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Thank you, Phyllis.” He moves back to his computer, not sparing her so much as another glance. “I will be expecting a formal letter of resignation, Carolina. There is a proper procedure to these matters.”
She grits her teeth, hands curling into fists at her sides. He has to be so damn casual about it. “It’ll be on your desk by Monday.”
“And may I remind you that you’ve been driving a company car?”
It takes all her willpower not to throw the key at him. Face carefully blank, she drops it on his desk along with the pin pulled a little too roughly from her lapel. Just so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of asking for that next.
Carolina turns when the door opens. She’s half surprised it’s just Niner there, not one of the new, massive security guards. That’s probably Phyllis’s doing. For someone so devoted to her father, Phyllis has her heart in the right place. Mostly.
Niner’s doing her best to look intimidating, like Carolina doesn’t know exactly how to get her giggling in five seconds flat. They lock eyes for the briefest of moments before Carolina squares her shoulders and strides out of the office. The door shuts behind them. She wants to think her father is still in there somewhere, that he’s sighing and pulling off his glasses, telling Phyllis to hold his calls while he thinks about how he’s gotten to this point.
It’s almost certainly not the case, but it does help ease the anger simmering in her veins a little. But it’s not enough, not even close.
Carolina waits until they’re several hallways away before she drives her fist into the wall. Taking a few deep breaths, she shakes her hands out. It’s not entirely surprising to find Niner a few feet away, staring at her, arms crossed, looking rather unimpressed. “You good now?”
Flexing her fingers, Carolina shakes her head as she follows Niner to the elevator and hits the button with a little too much force. “Not really.”
“At least you just dented it this time. You wouldn’t believe the way the maintenance guys bitched last time you knocked a hole in the wall,” Niner says, snorting.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding and Carolina lets Niner pull her along with a gentle tug. They’re up on the top floor, so they’re going to be there a while. Knowing Phyllis, she knows exactly which elevator they’re in and she’ll make sure that it only makes one stop. So Carolina lets out a breath and leans against one of the walls, pressing her forehead to the cool metal.
“He’s a monster,” she says after a few moments.
Niner snorts again. She leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed over her chest. “You say that like it’s news. Oh wait, are we doing that thing where we pretend he’s got his reasons? Because I only agreed to do that on the holidays and when I need a raise.”
Carolina shoots her a glare, but her heart isn’t in it. But Niner knows her too well, and the derisive expression on her face softens a little. “Cee, don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“You know what. Beating yourself up for the things he’s done isn’t gonna help anyone. The best you can do is try to change things from the inside.”
Not looking at her, Carolina carefully fights down a wince as she idly rubs at her bruising knuckles. “Actually, that’s no longer an option.”
Niner’s brow furrows. “What? Why the fuck not?”
“I quit.”
“Huh… well, guess you could also do that.” She pauses there, scratching at her head and Carolina knows it’s only because they’re practically sisters that Niner isn’t calling her stupid and telling her to go right back up to her father’s office.
But Niner understands, well, as much as anyone who hasn’t spent their entire life under her father’s thumb can. She’s seen enough. So it’s not entirely surprising when she crosses the elevator and gently grabs Carolina’s shoulders. “Then get the hell away from this place. And don’t look back. Just go home, hang out with your boyfriend, and put all this behind you.”
Carolina can’t stop herself from wincing this time. Niner sighs. “What Cee?”
“York and I are… on a break. Again.”
“Jesus Christ.” Her hands dropping away, Niner takes a step back and runs her fingers through short, closely cropped hair. “What was it this time?”
“He was… trying to tell me I should quit.” She looks at the elevator floor because she knows the face Niner is making and she can’t blame her for it. “We were just talking about it, and he brought up Wash and I was… I was so frustrated with him, I said… god, I said he only cared about that because of Tex and I…”
Maybe it’s because just after that fight, she finally let herself fall down the rabbit hole and she had gotten so preoccupied, but she hasn’t given herself a chance to think about the fight. About the look on York’s face when he had gotten up and said he needed to take a break. Carolina can count the texts she’s sent him since then on one hand. And that was weeks ago now.
She tips her head back against the wall. “I really screwed up this time, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you kinda did. And I don’t get off for another six hours, so you’re going to have to find someone else to attend that pity party of yours,” Niner says, sounding almost regretful about that second part, as the elevator finally stops and the doors slide open. They’re not touchy, they never have been, so it’s a little jarring when Niner links her arm through Carolina’s and leads her along to the front door.
“Look, Cee, you fucked up, but you don’t have to deal with this place anymore. So just… go home and take some time to get your shit together. This is the first time in… what fifteen years you’ve been unemployed?”
“Oh god.” For some reason, putting it that way hits Carolina like a wrecking ball to the gut. She’s been working straight since college. There’s always been a new job before she left the one before. Suddenly, she’s very glad for Niner’s arm through hers, holding her steady because the world is very off balance, spinning and shifting around her.
Niner seems to understand and gently pats her hand. “Go home. Call York, or don’t, but just… look call someone. Someone that isn’t me. I’m gonna have to put up with your whining for weeks, I can tell, so pick someone else tonight.”
That gets a snort of a giggle out of Carolina, but the world feels no more steady. The concern in Niner’s eyes is impossible to miss. “Do I need to call you a cab or something?”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call someone.” Stubborn as she is, Carolina doesn’t feel like walking all the way home. She takes a breath, trying to force herself calm. It sort of works and she’s able to manage a tight lipped smile for Niner. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
“You better,” Niner says, pointing her finger warningly. She lingers for a brief moment longer before turning away and heading back to the elevator.
Carolina takes another breath as she pushes open the massive front door. It’s not really cold outside, it never is, but there’s a breeze that makes her shiver. Taking a few steps back, she turns and looks up at the massive building. Every floor is built on lies and the broken backs of people like Wash and it makes her stomach turn.
God, she had been proud , so damn proud when her father had made her an executive, offered her real sway in the company. Finally, a chance to really prove herself, to put all her experience to work. And where had it gotten her? What had she really helped do?
Forcing her eyes away, she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts. Her finger hovers over York’s name. She hasn’t heard his voice in weeks. And that hits her like a truck. It would be so easy to call him, to admit she had been wrong.
But he’s the one that walked out. He wanted the break. She can’t go crawling back, begging him to change his mind.
Even if she knows she wouldn’t have to, that he would sweep her into his arms in a second, without even thinking twice. Because that’s what he does. He always wants her back, no matter how many times she pushes him away.
She can’t. Not yet. Not now. She needs to… to put things back together. Build herself up again. Try to remember what it’s like to be a person.
So she scrolls back up.
There’s no way she’s calling Church. His ‘I told you so’s would be even worse than York’s, who’d probably stop with that as soon as he got bored. Leo would never stop.
Tucker’s disconnected from the situation, and, for all his obnoxious jokes, he’s good about not making emotional things any worse than they already are. But he can’t keep his mouth shut. And he probably doesn’t need to drive halfway across town on a school night.
South would never stop with snide comments about the Wash situation. Which… alright, she probably deserves, but Carolina’s so not in the mood for that.
A name catches her eye and she hesitates. Carolina’s been trying to be more social, or well, she had been until a few weeks ago when getting to the bottom of what her father had really been doing consumed every part of her life. But before that, she had forced herself to introduce herself to her new neighbor. And… it hadn’t gone as poorly as she had expected. She’s not sure if they’re friends, but they’re something close to it.
Carolina takes a breath and hits call. The phone rings twice before there’s an answer. “Hello? Carolina? Is everything okay?”
For some reason, there’s a sudden burst of nerves that has her tucking flyaway pieces of hair behind her ears. “Hi Kimball. Yeah, everything’s fine. Well, sort of. I’m sorry to bother you so late.”
“Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t doing anything anyway. Did you need something?”
Carolina lets out a sigh and fights back a wince. “Actually, yes. Would you mind giving me a ride? I’m stranded at work and I hate to bother you with this--”
“I’m already getting in the car. Text me the address and I’ll be right there.”
“Alright. Thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just buy me a coffee and we’ll call it even.”
“I’d be happy to. See you soon.” There’s a smile on her face as she hangs up and quickly texts the address. And then Carolina has to pause. Did she just… was that Kimball asking her on a date?
No… no, it’s just repaying a favor with coffee. That’s normal. That’s what friends do. Isn’t it? God, she needs more friends. And Vanessa Kimball is nice and relatively normal compared to most of the people she usually hangs out with.
She’s also very pretty. Which isn’t something Carolina should be thinking about. Not when she has York. Because… she still has him, doesn’t she? They really, really need to communicate more about what their ‘breaks’ mean.
But this is just about the worst time to be thinking about any of this. Stress is still tugging her in a dozen different directions. There’s too many things to think about--she needs to find a new job, rent doesn’t pay itself. And she needs to get a car. Or figure out how the bus line works. Too much to do.
Carolina doesn’t even notice the small blue minivan pull up until a soft car horn drags her out of her thoughts. The window’s rolled down and Kimball’s offering her a little wave. Taking a breath, Carolina shoves a smile onto her face and rounds the car to climb into the passenger’s seat. She shoots Kimball a grateful look as she pulls on her seatbelt. “Thank you again. I’m sorry about this it’s just--I usually drive a company car, but… I don’t exactly work there anymore.”
Kimball’s eyes widen a little, taken aback. “Jesus. They just took your car?”
“It wasn’t really mine, but yes, they did.”
Starting up the car, Kimball shakes her head. “Your boss must’ve been a real douchebag.”
Carolina can’t stop herself from snorting. “You’re not wrong. But I’m… I’m going to try to just put that behind me.”
“Fair enough. Sounds like you’re better off that way. Have you eaten? We could get something on the way back. I know this little diner that just started staying open late.”
For a moment, Carolina nearly says no. She probably should. Kimball isn’t quite her friend, but she could be. There’s something about her that’s extremely calming, and those deep brown eyes have a shocking amount of warmth to them.
Her stomach also picks that moment to remind her that she hasn’t eaten since that morning, and even that was just half a granola bar. Slowly, she nods. “Alright, sure. I can’t remember the last time I had diner food.”
Because it’s usually so terrible, it’s not even worth the pathetically cheap prices, says a horrible part of her brain that sounds just like her father and his inability to stomach anything that doesn’t cost more than most people make in a year. But she doesn’t have to impress him anymore. She doesn’t have to choke down caviar and survive on the tiniest portions possible so he doesn’t make casual comments about how she’s so clearly letting herself go.
Diner food sounds like the best thing in the world now that Carolina’s thinking about it.
The diner is… a little worn down. Paint peels from the walls and Carolina’s sure after a glance that the upholstery in the booths must be older than she is. But that’s not the first thing that catches her eye. As she follows Kimball in, her eyes go to the waiter behind the counter and she freezes. “Tucker?”
He stills where he’s standing behind the register, blinking at her for a few long moments,his brow furrowing. “Carolina? The fuck are you doing in here?”
Kimball pauses a little awkwardly, hovering near the counter. “You two know each other?”
Tucker nods and moves to grab two menus. “Yeah, her brother’s the grumpy guy that likes to take all the coffee. You want your usual booth, Nessa?”
“Ah, you know, now that you mention it, I think I see the resemblance,” Kimball says, glancing back at her, slight smile on her face. “And sure, but I’ll probably just take the usual.”
“Can do.” Tucker jots something down on his notepad as he walks out from behind the counter and leads them to a little booth toward the back.
There aren’t too many other customers, but it is rather late. Most of the occupied tables are full of college students, a few nodding or waving to Kimball as they pass. Kimball takes the side of the booth that puts her back to the far wall, her eyes flicking around the diner, lingering on every window and door. Now that brings back old memories.
“So,” Carolina says slowly, once Tucker’s left them be to go check on the other tables. “How long did you serve?”
Kimball’s eyes widen for a moment, before the corner of her lips turns up. “Five years. I was discharged… two years ago now. Is it that obvious?”
“Not really. But I know the look. My mother served too, she hated sitting anywhere she couldn’t put her back to the wall. My father would always call ahead to reserve a table in the corner whenever we ate out.” She doesn’t mean to sound wistful, but a hint of nostalgia creeps into her voice.
“It’s a hard habit to break.” Kimball shrugs a little sheepishly, toying with the silverware. There’s scars on the backs of her hands Carolina’s never noticed before. She can’t help wondering if those, or the one on her face running from temple to chin has anything to do with that discharge. Maybe it’s best to save those questions for later. “I don’t have to bother here though. They’d probably let me sit in the kitchen if I asked.”
“It does seem pretty… relaxed here,” Carolina notes, glancing around the place. One of the other waiters is sitting at a table a few feet away, chatting animatedly with a few of the customers, and Tucker’s up at the counter, phone in hand, typing away.
There’s a wry smile on Kimball’s face as she nods. “You’re not wrong. The food is good though, as long as you don’t mind it taking a little while to show up. I only started coming here last year after they got a new chef. All the kids at New CC couldn’t stop talking about this place, so I thought I should come see what all the fuss was about.”
“That’s the community college, right?” Carolina’s almost certain she’s talked to Kimball before about what she does for a living. Something to do with… was it coaching or counseling at the community college. That had been the time Kimball had stopped to talk to her after getting back from jogging. It had been a very good, very distracting look.
“That’s the place. They keep changing the name every other semester because no one can agree on everything. Right now it’s ‘The New Blood Gulch City Junior College for the Community’.”
Carolina just blinks at her. “Well, that’s… a mouthful.”
Kimball snorts. “You’re telling me. New CC is much easier. And it sounds a little less pretentious than Chorale Academy, which all the kids love.”
Having left the state for college, Carolina’s only familiar with the local university through word of mouth. However, she’s seen plenty of the university buildings around town… and the rather unflattering posters often stuck to the windows of said buildings. So she’s fairly sure that there’s some sort of rivalry going on that probably makes perfect sense to the people involved.
“I see. Of course, you’re above that sort of thing, obviously.” There’s a hint of a tease in her voice.
Kimball’s lips twitch as she sits up a little straighter in her seat. “Obviously. I wouldn’t even think of supporting such a silly rivalry. Even if they do plan all their big events the exact same days we set ours. And threaten us with lawsuits for stealing their mascot, which they can’t prove we did.”
Carolina presses a hand to her mouth to stop a laugh slipping out. “Right, of course you wouldn’t get involved with any of that. But… did someone really steal the mascot?”
Casting a surreptitious glance around, Kimball leans a little closer over the table. “You never heard me say any of this…”
By the time Tucker comes over to ask if they want anything to drink, Carolina has both hands pressed to her mouth and her shoulders are shaking with barely suppressed laughter. She gets enough of a grip to order the greasiest burger on the menu, which both Tucker and Kimball highly recommend. Because fuck it. Her father’s had her counting calories since high school, but that doesn’t matter anymore.
He doesn’t matter anymore. And that’s an intensely freeing thought.
There’s still a surge of guilt, that unpleasant, nagging voice in her head despairing over the grease and the fat. But it’s not so loud that she can’t push past it to order a milkshake too. Tucker nods his approval before heading back toward the counter and into a door that Carolina assumes leads to the kitchen.
He returns sooner than expected with a burger the size of Carolina’s head and a massive stack of pancakes for Kimball. “If you guys want anything else, I’m pretty sure there’s a bunch of eclairs or something about to come out.”
Carolina blinks at him, brow furrowing. “You serve pastries? I didn’t see that on the menu.”
Tucker shrugs. “Yeah, that stuff never goes on the actual menu. Our chef just makes that shit when he’s got extra time. He’s a stress baker.”
“I think I’m alright. But… if I could get a few to go when we leave?” Kimball sounds as though she’s done this before.
With a little grin, Tucker nods. “Can do.”
And he’s off, back to the counter, leaving the two of them be. Carolina just stares at the burger for a moment. It’s… a little daunting now that she’s got it right in front of her. There’s probably more calories in that monster than she usually eats in an entire day. Bacon and cheese and a fried egg and a pile of french fries, that’s really just downright unnecessary. She glances over at Kimball, who’s eating the whipped cream smiley face off the top of her pancakes.
She takes a breath and dives in. The first bite is almost too much. Every part of it is perfect. It’s greasy and messy, but the bacon is crisp and the egg breaks under her teeth, and every individual layer is like a note in a symphony. Carolina just barely holds back a moan. “Oh my god.”
Kimball’s already grinning at her. “Right? Just wait until you try the eclairs.”
They fall back into easy conversation until the bill comes and Carolina almost has to wrestle it away from Kimball. “You picked me up. I know you said coffee, but I think this is a better trade.”
With a sigh, Kimball relents, sitting back in the booth, holding up her hands in surrender. “Fine, but I’ll get it next time.” She pauses. “If there is a next time.”
“Well, I definitely need to come back here again,” Carolina says slowly, signing off on the bill. “And I might have to ask for a few more rides. So… I wouldn’t be opposed to a next time.”
The smile Kimball gives her makes Carolina’s stomach flip for a reason that has absolutely nothing to do with the massive amount of grease and cheese in her system. That might be a problem. But Kimball’s just being friendly. Isn’t she?
Carolina tries to push the thoughts from her head as she follows Kimball toward the counter.
“Just gotta grab those eclairs before we head out,” Kimball says over her shoulder. But the door to the kitchen opens and Carolina stops so suddenly, she almost stumbles.
It’s been years, and she doesn’t remember those dark circles under his eyes or the scar across his face, but there’s no mistaking those storm gray eyes--so like his sister’s--and that mess of freckles. Guilt crashes over her like a wave and her ears start ringing.
“Tucker,” he’s saying, hands on his hips after he sets down the tray of eclairs on the counter, “I thought you said the display case was empty. Where are we supposed to put all these?”
Tucker rolls his eyes. “Dude, there’s like half a pie left in there. We’ve got room. Plus, I already sold half of those,” he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
Carolina’s blood runs cold as Wash slowly turns to look her way. His eyes widen, mouth stuck halfway open. For a second, the diner feels far too still and quiet. He recovers first, blinking in confusion. “Carolina?”
“Wash? You… work here?” The question tumbles out inelegantly. But she can’t think of anything better. She’s vaguely aware of the fact that Kimball and Tucker are both staring at each other. Sucking in a breath through her nose, she crosses to the counter, though she can’t muster up the nerve to casually lean against it, instead crossing her arms in front of her chest. There’s movement in the corner of her eye and she’s vaguely aware of Kimball stepping up alongside her. Somehow that makes the world feel a little more steady.
Wash hesitates, glancing sideways at Tucker before nodding. “Yeah, uh… I’ve been working here since I got out.”
Carolina feels as though she ate a few rocks to go with that burger, weight settling in the pit of her stomach. She’s seen the files, read the deal he was forced into, remembers every last fucking word she had said defending her father before that. She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. And it’s too late to take any of it back.
“Well… it’s good to see you,” she says, almost feeling the words fall flat. “Are you… doing alright here?”
Again, Wash glances at Tucker for some reason. Whatever he sees there makes him steady himself a little. “I am. It might not have five stars, but it’s nice. It has everything I need.”
For some reason, that makes Tucker absolutely beam at him. Wash’s face goes a little pink, but he carries on, casually clearing his throat. “What about you? How are… things?”
“Good,” she says, nodding. “I uh… I quit my job today.”
Wash’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head, his pale eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Did something happen?”
Letting out a breath, she tips her head to one side. He sounds concerned. For some reason, she had hoped he would be happy, even vaguely smug she could take. “Sort of. I found some files I probably shouldn’t have and decided that… I couldn’t be a part of that anymore. I only wish I had found them sooner.”
There’s a lot in that that she’s not ready to fully unpack. But Wash nods slowly, like he understands. Carolina almost wants to take it back, because she didn’t mean it as an apology. It’s not nearly good enough to be one. He offers a faint little smile. “Well, at least you’re done with it now. That’s something.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” She glances at Kimball, who meets her gaze, raising one eyebrow slightly. Like she’s silently asking if everything’s alright. The awkward air is still heavy all around them, but she gives a very faint nod before turning back to Wash, forcing more of a smile into place. “It really is good seeing you, Wash. We should catch up sometime… if you want to.”
Wash looks surprised again, but the faint smile grows a little as he nods. “I’d like that.”
Carolina realizes as he packs up a box of eclairs for Kimball and she follows the other woman out to her car, that she’s signed herself up for what’s probably going to be a severely uncomfortable talk at some point. But she owes Wash that much. And… she’s missed him. It’s slowly sinking in, the memories of a crooked grin that lit up his wild eyes flitting through her head unbidden.
She can’t help wondering if he can still smile like that.
Kimball’s apartment is right next to hers, so they walk together up from the parking lot. Conversation is easy, naturally moving from one topic to another until they reach their doors. Carolina leans against the doorframe, her face hurting from smiling so much.
“Thank you for picking me up. This was… a lot of fun actually. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
“It’s no problem.” Kimball shifts the box under her arm as she digs through her pockets for the key to her door. “I… it was nice having the company. Lately, things have been so busy at work, I haven’t really spent much time with anyone who’s not an undergrad in… an embarrassingly long time, honestly.”
“Then we definitely need to do this again, and soon. My schedule just opened up fairly wide for the foreseeable future, so let me know when you have a night free.” And Carolina will be more concerned about that in the morning. She likes having at least a bit of a schedule. Too much free time is going to drive her insane.
“I’ll have to check my schedule, but I should have some night free later this week. As soon as I figure it out, I’ll text you.” Kimball’s smile softens a little and she reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Carolina’s ear. Fingers trace over her cheek and send little tingling sparks down her spine.
Before she can think, Kimball’s leaning in and kissing her cheek. Her lips are soft and full and Carolina almost wants to turn her head to catch them.
York’s face flits through her head and she goes completely and utterly still.
Kimball pulls back, her brow suddenly furrowing, lips curling into a frown. “I’m… I’m sorry, I read that wrong, didn’t I?”
Carolina quickly holds up her hands, shaking her head. “No. That wasn’t… It’s just--I’m sort of seeing someone right now. We’re taking a break, but… it’s complicated. I’m so sorry, Vanessa, if I led you on--”
Kimball shakes her head, wincing. “No, it’s my fault. It’s like I said before, I haven’t actually spent time with someone my own age in a very long time. I thought you were flirting.”
“I was. A little bit,” Carolina admits, feeling another rush of guilt and discomfort. “But I shouldn’t have been. I… I really did like spending time with you. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in weeks, and I’d love to do it again, but… just as friends. If that’s alright with you?”
Kimball manages a smile as she nods, but it looks a little forced. “Of course.” That heavy, unpleasant silence is back. “I should head in. Goodnight, Carolina.”
“Goodnight Vanessa.” Carolina turns away, pulling out her own key and does her best not to flinch when she hears Kimball’s door click shut behind her. She pushes open the door and steps into the apartment.
It’s cold and suddenly far too neat, like she’s barely lived in it for weeks. Which… is just about true. Her room’s a bit of a mess, and she really, really needs to do laundry. But the bubbly energy that had been filling her is suddenly nowhere to be found.
Steps heavy, she moves to the couch and drops down onto it. Pulling up her legs, she grabs the old brown blanket hanging over the back and curls up in it. Deep breaths smell like York, smoke and a faint hint of that stupid cologne clinging to the fabric. It makes her stomach twist, but she keeps the blanket close. She should text him. Or call him. Or just… something.
Her phone is in her hands before she can think. His name is right there. It would be so easy. She doesn’t even have to apologize and he would come rushing back. That thought settles for a second before it makes her sick.
It’s what her father would do.
Carolina can’t count the times they had argued and he had said things that sent her running. But as soon as he opened the door even a little, she would come rushing back. He never apologized, not for a damn thing. She can’t be like him. She won’t.
With a huff, she drops her phone onto the coffee table. It buzzes a second later and Carolina is so, so glad that she lives alone so no one gets to see the way she flops off the couch in a mad scramble to reach it. Rubbing her head, she sits up and snatches the phone off the table.
Her brow furrows at the name on the screen. It rings twice and her finger hovers for a long moment before she finally answers. “Phyllis? Is everything alright?”
“Oh hello Carolina. I hope I’m not bothering you too late. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. The Director informed me that you were no longer working with the company.”
Letting out a breath, Carolina lets her head fall back against the seats of the couch. “That’s correct. I resigned, but I’m just fine, Phyllis, you don’t have to worry. And tell my fath--the Director that I’ll have my official resignation in as soon as I can.”
“Of course. I will make sure to pass that along. However, I had another reason for calling. My sister recently left her temporary job and I know the establishment in question is looking for a new accountant. It is a bit below your pay grade, but I’m sure they would be more than happy to have you, even if it is only for a short time.”
She hesitates. Jumping right into a new job does throw a wrench into her plans to do nothing for a while. But… rent won’t pay itself, and it would be so nice to have her own car as soon as possible.
“Send me the information. Thank you, Phyllis, I really appreciate this.”
“Of course! I am always happy to help. I will email you the information first thing tomorrow. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”
“You too, Phyllis.”
Carolina hangs up and stares at the screen as it fades to black. Well… at least there’s one less thing to keep her up at night. Wrapping York’s blanket tight around her shoulders, she forces herself up and shuffles into her room. She sinks onto her bed, phone still in hand. Rolling onto her side, she glares at it for a few long moments before unlocking it to send one message.
So, dad sucks.
The response is much faster than she expects.
Jesus fucking Christ, are you just now realizing that?
No. Well. Sort of. Don’t rub it in.
That gets more of a pause.
Okay. What happened?
Carolina hesitates. Apparently for far too long.
Sis, come on. What did he do?
Nothing new. I found all his secret files and confronted him about it. He didn’t even care that I knew. It didn’t matter.
And there’s a lump in her throat now.
Sis…
I didn’t matter. I told him I knew and that I quit and he didn’t even care.
He’s a douchebag, Lina. He always has been.
I know.
Still sucks.
No shit, Leo.
Ughhhh I hate when you call me that. But okay, look. He sucks. Dad’s a total fucking prick. But you got out, right?
I did.
So you don’t have to answer to him anymore. You’re done.
I’m not sure it’s that simple.
It could be.
Maybe. I don’t know. It’s still complicated.
Is it ever not?
Good point.
She shifts, rolling onto her back. Her phone buzzes a few more times.
So.
Tucker says you were hanging out with some hot girl.
Who is she?
You finally dump York?
Good riddance, the guy’s an ass.
Sis?
Lina?
Come on, who was the girl?
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
Goodnight, Leo.
You’re no fun. Fine. Night.
Carolina lays there for a while longer, too many thoughts floating around her head. She scrolls back through her contacts. York’s name stares at her. He’s the one that walked away.
But she’s the one that pushed him to it.
She takes a breath and sends off one last message: I’m sorry.
As soon as it sends, she shuts off her phone and tosses it into her nightstand drawer. One more thing to deal with in the morning. It’s been a long, long day. So she rolls back onto her side and shuts her eyes. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but it arrives nonetheless. Dreams filled with gentle, scarred hands, and the smell of bad cologne mix together in her head. But one thing keeps coming back, and when she wakes up to the early morning light flitting through her window, Carolina is certain of one thing and one thing only.
She needs another goddamn burger.