Sophia
Three hours after making that phone call, I sit down for coffee with George Turner.
The years haven't been kind to Turner. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is thinning, and there’s a mustard stain on his shirt I’m trying very hard not to stare at.
“Did you get me fired from the hospital?” I ask bluntly. I’d debated the best way to approach this topic on the drive over, but I couldn't decide what to do. Evidently, I left subtlety fifty miles down the road.
Turner doesn’t give me a direct answer. At least, not immediately. “For ten years, I thought you might ask me about it,” he says. “How did you figure out that it was me?”
I won’t tell him what Mrs. Webb told me. “Did you do it?”
“Oh, what the hell? Yeah, fine. I did. I told Mrs. Caldwell that you were in a threesome. I knew she would fire you, that uptight bitch.”
She was a bitch, but it still makes me angry when he calls her that. “How did you find out?”
“I overheard Cardenas talk about it.” He sneers. “The pretty boy with his bespoke suits and his handmade shoes.”
Damien wouldn’t have been indiscreet. I need more details. “Where? At work?”
“At the IHOP. I went for my usual Sunday morning breakfast, and Cardenas came in with another man. He didn't even realize I was there. Can you believe it? People like me are nothing to him.”
You’re nothing to me too, George, you fucking slime.
“What did they say?” I probe.
“I can't remember. Cardenas said something like he didn’t expect that to happen. And the other man said that he wanted to see you again. He asked Cardenas how he felt about sharing, and he said, ‘If Sophia is fine with it, then so am I.’” He leers at me. “That’s when I knew who they were talking about. You.”
I ignore his expression. “And you told Mrs. Caldwell. Why? What the hell did it matter what I did outside of work?”
“Karina was looking for another job,” he replies. “When she left, she was going to recommend you as her replacement. I wanted the job, so I did what I had to do.”
I don’t know why I’m shocked. I shouldn’t be. Turner always took credit for our work. This is only a short step away. “You got me fired so you could get promoted?”
“Don't pretend that you wouldn't do it,” he snaps. “Don't pretend to be saintly. I would do anything to get ahead, and so would you. It's a dog-eat-dog world. You have to watch out for yourself because nobody else will watch out for you.”
They’d been overheard at an IHOP. It’s so ridiculous I want to laugh. All the while, I thought it was a grand betrayal, but it was just bad luck that Turner was at the same diner as Damien and Julian. If I wanted, I could be angry that they discussed me at all, but that would be completely irrational.
Damien and Julian didn’t get me fired. George Turner did.
“You're wrong,” I say, getting to my feet. “People don't have to screw people over to get ahead. I'm sorry you never learned that lesson.”
I always pictured Damien telling Mrs. Caldwell that he slept with me, but even in my deepest rage, it hadn't rung true. I clung to it anyway, clung to my anger. It was easier to believe they got me fired than to face the alternative. Which is that after just one night, I was well on my way to falling in love with them.
I glance at the dashboard. It's eight. Damien and Julian were going to paint Julian’s foyer. They invited me, but I've barely been at home and have laundry to do, so I declined.
They're going to be at Julian's house. I need to talk to them. It's time to put it all out in the open.