24 The Big Misunderstanding
A flash drive is on the desk right in front of my face, which reminds me of the flash drive. Smith hasn't shown up all day. I grab my keys and exit the house to go and meet Ashley, Jordan's manager. She shakes my hand and sits on a chair at the restaurant.
"We loved working with you the last time," she says with a smile. "Jordan was very happy with the result. I'm sure you understand why he can't show up at every meeting we have."
"Yes. I do," I say. "It's completely okay."
"I'd like you to work with us again. Maybe this time on something huger. What do you say?"
"I'd say I would love to! What is this huger thing?"
"I'm thinking about Jordan's next lyrical music video. It'll be something simple but neat and good."
"That would be great! I'm so glad you asked me this."
"But there's a contract we need to sign and some paperwork. We'll talk about the schedule and everything. I'm free on Saturday night at seven. Is that okay with you?"
"Yes! Of course, that's okay with me."
"Alright then. I have to be somewhere else right now." She gets up. "Have a lovely day."
I get up with her. "You too!" and she leaves.
I arrive home and sit on the couch while the flash drive is in my hand. It's eating me alive. The doorbell rings, and I run toward the door.
"Oliver?"
"Mrs. Collins?" A man says in uniform.
"Yes?"
"Are you Mia Collins?"
"Yes. How may I help you?"
He shows his badge. "NYPD. You to come with me."
Oh crap. "Why?" I ask, my voice shaking.
"There's been a complaint against you. You have to come with me." He cuffs my hands. "You know James Williams?"
"Yes?"
"He has filed a lawsuit against you."
"For what?"
"Crashing his car."
"Crashing what?!"
He puts me in the car. "We'll talk about it when we get to the precinct."
We arrive at the precinct. The same cop is behind his desk, and I sit in front of it. "I came home at 2 pm and haven't left since," I say.
"And where were you before that?" he asks in an accusing tone.
"I-I got coffee with a client at a cafe. You can ask the manager there. They'll give you the camera footage."
"Who did you get a coffee with?"
I want to say Ashley Turner, but I don't want to lose the job I got from her. "It was a client. I'd rather not bring their name into this since they value their privacy."
"No alibis makes it hard."
"But it wasn't me. I don't even know what car he drives. You can't arrest me without any proof."
"We have the video of you threatening Mr. Williams at his office with a knife."
"Th-That's..." I suddenly lose the ability to form a sentence. I knew that goddamn camera at Smith's office would be my end.
"We have to check a few things. Before anyone testifies for you," the detective says. "You need to stay in the cell."
"You're joking."
"I'm not. Randy, get her in the cell," he orders an officer.
The officer comes close to me and grabs me by my arm. Then he drags me to a cell. I don't struggle. I only get in and watch as the bars close before my face. What on earth is happening to me? How could everything get so wrong? How would this even happen?
"Mr. Williams?" The cop asks. I look and see James entering.
"Where's she?" James asks, fixing his sleeves. The cop points at me, and James starts walking toward me. "See you in the right place," he says to me.
"What the hell, James?" I ask, getting closer to the bars. "You think I crashed your car?"
"You threatened me with a knife and told me to sleep with one eye open!"
"Paper-knife. You're such a baby."
"Seriously?!"
"I did nothing! I'm not the only one who hates you. Remember? Everyone at Whoosh hates you!"
"No one has the motive as you do."
"Really? Dig a little deeper. I can think of at least one more person who hates you more than I do."
"Who?"
I widen my eyes, not believing how stupid he is. "Tall guy, grey eyes, black hair?" I say, and he still looks clueless. "Maybe you'll recognize him from the knife on his back. The one you stabbed him with when you betrayed him and took all his belongings."
"Oliver?"
"So, the knife is more familiar than himself."
"He would never do this."
"He knows we slept together."
"We what?!"
"Yeah. I didn't want Smith to know, but it just happened."
"Oh, you really have lost your mind."
"It just happened."
"Listen to me carefully." He gets his head closer to the bars. "You hit rock bottom and thought you would sell this lie to get money from me, but you're dead wrong. I'm not paying shit to you. So, don't ever try to embarrass me in my workplace."
"Money?! I don't want you to do shit about it. It was just one night, but stop being a fucking pussy."
"What night, you crazy moron?"
I gasp. "The night of my party. Remember? We danced?"
"Yeah, and you left me and went to your room."
"And you followed me to my room."
"No. I left."
"You followed me to my room to search for your stupid dog."
"What dog?"
"Loco?"
"I don't have a dog."
I move my jaw a few times. "You got your dog, and we had sex."
"You're crazy. I left. As a matter of fact, Oliver was the one who picked me up."
"You're lying."
"Why don't you ask him?" he says. I take some time to think. He seems pretty sure. "You will pay for my car," he adds.
"I didn't crash your car!" I say. "If I had, I would be injured. I'm not. Look at me! Where are you going?!"
He stops in his tracks and turns to me again. "You should know," he says before leaving, "The cafe that you said you were at, at the time of the vandalism... It has no camera footage," he continues as a joyful smile spreads across his face.
"What?! You're lying. Every place has cameras!"
He shrugs. "It does have cameras but has no videos. Someone must've accidentally removed them." He starts walking away with a smug smile on his lips.
My mind is fuzzy. I'm screwed. God knows what he did to that cafe to ruin the only proof I had. I can't ask Ashley to testify for me. Am I going to get into jail? My baby!
I put my hands on my belly, and my breath comes short. My heart feels heavy, and I can't gasp for air. My hands keep shaking the bars for the guard to notice me.
He walks to me. "What is it?" he asks, and I open my mouth to form a sentence, but no voice comes out. He realizes how I struggle to breathe, and his facial expression changes. "Are you okay?" he asks with a brooding look. Suddenly, the world gets black before my eyes, and I fall to the ground.
I open my eyes and realize I'm in a hospital now. My hand is cuffed to the bed, and a guard watches over me. I hear a knock on the door, and someone enters. It's the cop that arrested me. At this moment, I think of nothing and no one but my baby. I ruined her entire life with my stupid choices. I will never forgive myself for it.
The cop gets a little closer to the bed. "You okay?" he asks, and I stay silent. How can I be okay? "Someone testified for you," he says. It washes away all of my worries. I put my hand on my belly, fixing my back.
"Who?" I ask. Jess enters the room, his hands in his pockets. My relief lasts only a couple of seconds because I know there's something behind this kind gesture.
I finally get discharged, and before I kill everyone in the precinct for almost costing me my baby, I get out of there. Jess is standing by my side.
"Well?" I ask him as I cross my arms.
"A thank you would be fine," he says.
"What do you want from me, Jess?"
"Nothing yet."
"You're keeping me on my toes, aren't you?"
"Are you that scared of me?"
"Don't be too surprised. You like others to be scared of you. You enjoy the feeling of being a predator. Anyway, I'm exhausted. I'm sure I'll hear from you soon enough." Before I walk away, he grabs my arm.
"What did you talk about with Bill?" he asks.
How does he know about Bill? I have to think and choose my words wisely. I pull my arm away and put distance between us. "Who?" I ask, acting clueless.
"Don't," he warns me. "Bill Saltzman, my coworker at Whoosh?" he says. "The one you knew was capable of the same things as me," he adds. I don't want to speak. He waits for me to talk.
"Did you put yourself through all this trouble just to ask me this?" I say.
"What are you planning?" he asks.
"Mind your business, Jess. I'm getting tired of seeing your face." I walk away from him and leave.
***
It's been a few days, and I finally found Smith. He is sitting in a bar, a scarily empty bar. There's no guard, no bartender, or anyone other than Smith. He doesn't seem so happy to see me.
"Why are you here?" He asks as I get closer to him. He's drinking from a bottle. There's a nasty wound on his cheek and forehead. It hurts to see him like this. "Fuck off, Mia!"
His cursing surprises me because he never curses, but I suppose he's too drunk and hurt. "I looked everywhere for you," I say gently.
He gets up from the chair. "I'll leave," he says. I notice his arm now. He has wrapped it with bandages.
"Oliver, please. Let me explain, then hit me with the bottle in your hands if you're still mad at me." My tone is sincere. He hesitates. "Please, just five minutes," I beg, and he sits down. "I had no idea who he was back then. I swear I didn't know you were dating him. Hell, I had no idea you're gay." He holds the bottle too tight in his hand, and I'm worried it will break.
"I was drunk like I had never been before." I continue. "It was my promotion party. I was dancing, and suddenly James showed up. It felt nice to have him touch me, but then I got overwhelmed and left for my room. I thought the night had ended there because I remembered nothing else. Later, I found out I was pregnant. I forced myself harder and remembered that I slept with someone that night. I think it was James, but I'm not sure."
He breathes deeply and repeats it a few times. Then he grabs the bottle and takes a long sip. I wait for him to finish it while I try to stay as quiet as possible. He wipes his wounded, swollen lips with the back of his hand.
"Uh. Bloody hell." He looks at my belly and breathes deeply. "Are you sure you're pregnant?" He asks finally.
"I had an ultrasound."
He doesn't part his look from my belly. "Why did you ask me to move in with you?" he asks.
"Because I needed someone to share my drama with. You seem to handle it well."
"Do I seem like I'm handling well?!"
"Honestly? Considering everything you've been through, yes! Pretty damn well!" He doesn't look eased. "You opened up to me last night. I realized, damn, this man has lost everything, and he's still standing like a fucking boss. You told me you wouldn't turn to me on your bad days, but guess what? You did, and you're stuck with me whether you like it or not."
I sit next to him and stay quiet so he can digest everything. After he calms down, silence fills the entire bar. His breathing turns normal, and he stares at a wall.
"Is it the right time to ask something?" I dare to say, and he zones back into reality.
He sighs. "Go ahead."
"Did you pick James up the night of my party?" He thinks for a few seconds, then nods. "Oh," I say, and he gets curious.
"What?"
"It's safe to say all the mental breakdown you just went through was for nothing."
He looks at me, confused, and I continue. "You picked him up. It wasn't him whom I slept with. It was someone else."
"Fuck, Mia. Do you really not remember?"
"No! Ugh. You crashed his car for nothing."
"How do you know I crashed his car?"
"He thought I was the one who did it and had me arrested."
"What? When?"
"Today. I got bailed out."
"I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want this to happen."
"I didn't want this to happen either. Look at you."
"I'm fine."
"Is it only your arm and face?" I ask.
"Yeah. The window broke when I crashed."
"Did you want to hurt yourself? Or his car?" I ask. He says nothing, and I suspect his answer is both.
"How did you find here?" he asks, changing the subject.
"I asked Alfred."
"Who?"
"Your old housekeeper. It's funny how you're secretly the Batman, but Sebastian was the one thinking he was."
He laughs but immediately stops since his face hurts. "His name is Harry," he corrects me.
I shrug. "Tomatoes, tomatoes."
"God," he sighs. "I won't remember tonight. Tomorrow you should kneel and beg."
"I think I can get you to forgive me easily tomorrow."
"How?"
"I have something that I'll blackmail you with." I play the video of him stripping at the strip club, and he watches it with round eyes.
"Is that—?" he asks with a haunted look.
"It's you," I confirm.
"Who recorded me?! Oh, my God. I miss being a decent human being."
"If it's of any consolation, the video has almost one hundred and fifty thousand views."
"It does?"
"Yes. You're the hot guy stripping at the male strip club. It's an achievement for a New Yorker." I want to stop the video, but Smith doesn't let me.
"Wait!" he says. "Is that you?"
I look at my phone again to watch the video and see myself getting on the stage. "No," I lie.
"Yes! It is you!" He laughs out loud. "Did you just do a spin?"
I look away, feeling embarrassed. "You asked me to do a spin, or you wouldn't get down."
"That was the lamest spin I've ever seen!"
"Shut up!"
He laughs again. "It's like a seventy-year-old woman is trying not to fall on the subway."
"I'm a horrible dancer."
"I can see that!"
"At middle school, I attended a contest and tried to mix robot dance and ballet."
"You did what?"
"I jumped in slow motion and landed on my knees, breaking both my legs."
Smith tries not to laugh but makes a noise with his mouth.
I continue. "And since then, everyone would make the sound of an ambulance siren whenever they saw me. Because an ambulance came immediately to take me to a hospital."
"I'm so sorry," he says, laughing out loud.
"Yeah. Good times!" I tease.
"I'm sure they forgot about it soon."
"They would if I hadn't joined the next year's contest."
"Why would you ever?" he says, and I shake my head.
"I couldn't even make it on stage. I fell from the first stair and landed on my face, losing my front tooth and hurting my neck." Smith starts laughing again, and I can't help but join him. "And they called the ambulance."
"Obviously," he says between his laughs. "Although they could call a dentist."
I shake my head. "They didn't know about my tooth until I handed it to the nurse at the hospital."
"You just handed it to her?"
"Yes."
His laughter gets louder. "The nurse must've been so confused. Like, what am I supposed to do with this?"
"She was. She stared at me, and then I smiled, and she noticed the big gap in front and realized where the tooth came from."
The night continues with the both of us telling each other the silly memories we have and laughing at them even though they were hurtful when they happened.