VINCENZO
Tuesday morning is filled with far more cheer than Monday, and it’s because something good amongst all the bad has happened between Jessica Lee and I. Do I understand it completely? No. But I know I like fucking her, and she’s great company, so it doesn't really matter right now. My email notifies me that the architect for the community outreach project has sent the first draft. My phone begins to ring, so I pick it up immediately without looking.
“Hey, boss. After extensive digging, I’ve concluded that Jessica Lee doesn’t exist.”
“What does that mean?”
“Lilly Haan is Ms. Lee’s given name. She changed it after what looks like a federally investigated case. It’s possible she could still go to jail because it was reopened a couple of weeks ago. We also thought it was important to note that some of the boys spotted her going into a men’s jail next to Chinatown on Saturday afternoon. She was there for about an hour before walking home.” I hadn’t quite prepared for something like this. Not after she promised me no more lies. Lying about your whole ass identity is a little too close to home for my liking.
Lee takes my pause as a reason to continue.
“She’s still taking calls from burner phones. Apparently, these started around the time her case was reopened.” I glance over to her desk, but the dividers are too high to see her. My first instinct is to fire her again because rage is usually when I make most of my impulsive decisions. Instead, I let the anger simmer in my very core. I want to demand she tell me what the hell is going on, and I need to know immediately.
“Sir, I can continue digging-“
“That won’t be necessary, Lee. I’ll keep you updated if anything changes.” I end the call and hit the intercom button at the same time.
“Yes?” Ms. Lee answers.
“Come to my office immediately.” The line is quiet, and then I see her heading my way. I'm fuming, practically burning with rage. How is it possible for her to say she cares for me, yet lie to my face about her identity? For God's sake, I didn’t even know her real name? I feel so foolish for allowing myself to be so transparent with her.
She comes in without knocking, as she often does when I summon her. I stand up after the door closes and begin to shut the blinds. She crosses an arm over her stomach, clutching her elbow in a nervous stance.
“Sit,” I say as I find my chair.
“What’s wrong?” She has the lunacy to even ask with doe-eyed innocence.
“ Ms. Lee, just when were you planning on telling me about your past?” Her face goes pale for a moment, and I can see the cogs turning.
“My past?” She repeats, sounding slightly dazed.
“I grew up in foster care, was never adopted, got my own apartment at 18… I’m sorry, why are you asking me this now?”
“Because I know who you really are, and I thought I’d give you one last chance to tell me the truth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Where were you on Saturday?”
“I-“ her narrowed eyes shift around the room as she shakes her head. “I already told you… Is a good cop gonna come out? Do I need a lawyer before I speak? What the fuck is wrong with you?” She sneers, crossing her arms over her chest, her cheeks now flushed with annoyance.
“I know you visited a men's jail, I know your birth name is Lilly Haan, and I know you're involved in a sensationalized case.” Her jaw drops, and she’s blinking at me under furrowed brows.
“How the f-“
“Lee. I had him look into your past.” I tap the ball of my pen on the table. “I thought we respected each other more than this, Ms. Lee. You’ve betrayed my trust, and I don’t think I can ever look at you the same.”
“You have no right to do something like this. You wanna talk about respect and trust. What the fuck does that even mean to you?” I don’t look directly into her eyes, and she continues to raise her voice. “No! You don’t get to play hurt! I accepted the protection of a name change because it was keeping me safe, just like I’ve been trying to keep you.” I clench my jaw and tense my face into a scowl, fighting her words with only physical reactions.
“You don’t get to pout. You fucked up. You lost my respect and trust and whatever other bullshit relationship nonsense you’re spouting off about. And for the record, you haven’t even asked me to be with you officially. Our relationship is on your terms. You keep me at arm's length until you need me, and then it’s back to waiting for your call and living off the high of your voice for a night.” Tears are brimming her reddened face, and her throat begins to crack from speaking so loud.
“Look at me!” She yells, and I snap my head back in her direction.
“Get out.” I point to the door.
“Wh-“
“I said GET OUT!” I feel the veins in my neck bulge, and my throat goes hoarse. Her tears fall quicker as she stands shakily to her feet.