Chapter Eight: The Deal has been Done

By the time Yennifer got home, her nerves were stretched so tight they almost hummed.

Chloe’s apartment was exactly as she had left it that morning: a little too warm, a little too cluttered, and faintly smelling of the vanilla candle Chloe insisted made the place feel sophisticated and rich. 

Yennifer shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, her handbag hanging from her shoulder like a small, spiteful reminder of everything that had gone wrong. Raising her bag, she opened it, dipped her head in, and let out a scream,

“Aaarrrghhhhhh,” before throwing her bag on a couch 

Tears stung her eyes as she kicked off her shoes before arranging them by the door, then dropping to the floor and staring at the ceiling as if it might explain George Ashford’s existence, but it did not.

The past three days of her life have been circling one man, one who's inconsiderate, intimidating, and by God thinks she's out to seduce him. An accusation so ridiculous she still wanted to throw something.

And then, of course, Mom.

Yennifer dragged a hand down her face, standing up and crossing the room to the kitchen, where the kettle was. She filled it, set it on, then changed her mind and turned it off again before it could even begin to boil.

“No tea for you,” she told the kettle.

Her phone buzzed again.

She froze.

Then, with visible reluctance, she pulled it from her bag. Another message from her mother.

“Please, Yennifer. Just come home and talk.”

She let out a short, humourless laugh. Talk. That was what people said when they wanted you to sit still and let them explain why your feelings were inconvenient. As if she needed another reminder of Lily.

Her throat tightened. She tossed the phone onto the couch as though it had bitten her, then paced the tiny living room once, twice, trying to outrun the thoughts gathering in her head. Feeling like everything was beginning to go against her these past days brought her to tears. Remembering the meeting, the game night, the supposed interview and now her family, how life has been with her family, with Lily.

Lily had always known how to get to her, yet Yennifer always overlooked, not so sure if she could call it “overlooking” because growing up she was drilled by her parents to overlook as the eldest, but now she sees clearly. One name, one memory, one carefully chosen silence, and suddenly Yennifer was eleven years old again, standing in the middle of a family argument no one had bothered to ask her to join.

The worst part was that she still did not understand where everything had gone so wrong. One day she had a family. Then Lily cried, her parents took her side as if the matter had been settled by some sacred vote, and Yennifer had become the problem in her own home.

She stopped pacing and pressed both hands against the back of the couch.

“Fantastic,” she muttered. “A ruined interview and emotional damage. A productive day all around.”

The words came out flat, but they almost made her smile.

Almost.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. Her mother. Yennifer stared at the screen until it stopped ringing. A second later, another notification came through. This time it was from Chloe.

Tell me you didn’t murder anyone. I’m on my way home.

Yennifer snorted despite herself. As if on cue, the front door opened, and Chloe came in carrying a plastic bag of groceries and the expression of someone who had already decided the day had been dramatic enough for one person.

“You look like someone insulted your ancestors,” Chloe said, dropping the bag by the counter. “Which, knowing you, is either true or about to be.”

Yennifer gave her a dead-eyed look. “George Ashford accused me of trying to seduce him.”

Chloe, very sure of Yennifer's virgin state, couldn't help blinking once before asking, “Who?” 

“Exactly.”

That earned a laugh, quick and sharp. Chloe set both hands on her hips and studied her for a moment. “Start from the beginning.”

Yennifer opened her mouth, shut it, then let out a long breath. “I waited three and a half hours. Three and a half. Then he spoke to me like I’d broken into his life for fun.”

Chloe’s expression shifted. “And the seduction thing?”

Yennifer dropped onto the couch as though her bones had given up. “He said I came back to finish what I couldn’t finish in the bathroom.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Chloe, being her overly dramatic self, made a sound halfway between a gasp and a laugh and covered her mouth with one hand. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that is vile.”

“I know.”

Yennifer groaned and covered her face. “I hate my life.”

“No, you don't; you just currently dislike a particular hot, popular hockey player whom you walked in on butt naked, reeks of money and way too much confidence.” Chloe teased

“That too.”

Chloe sat beside her, still smiling, though more gently now. “So what happened after the dramatic bathroom accusation?”

“I left.” Yennifer peeked between her fingers. “Then I remembered my career was apparently dependent on this interview, so I went back and apologized, and after stooping so low to apologise, all he could say to me was, 'I'm very busy, book an appointment.”

Chloe stared at her and Yennifer stared back.

Then Chloe leaned away and said, “That man has the emotional warmth of a locked refrigerator.”

“That’s insulting to refrigerators.”

“True. Refrigerators at least open when you ask nicely.”

Despite herself, Yennifer laughed. It came out broken and tired, but it was real.

For a few seconds, the apartment went quiet again. The kind of quiet that left room for things neither of them wanted to name.

Then Yennifer’s phone lit up on the couch. An unknown number flashed on the screen 

It caused her to frown and reach for it.

The message was short and read, “ Hi, I'm Mark, Mr. Ashford's PA. This email is to let you know there's an opening on his schedule. Still in need of the interview, come to TAH tomorrow at 10 a.m. Don’t be late.

Mark Stone.

Yennifer sat very still as Chloe watched her discreetly. Seeing the shock on her friend's face, she couldn't help but ask, “What is it?”

Yennifer looked up slowly, the first spark of shock giving way to disbelief.

“I just got an appointment for tomorrow with him; his PA, Mark, set it.” “That's great”, Chloe exclaimed

Still basking in the shock that a journalist secured a scheduled appointment with Mr Ashford- something that had happened, as said by Chloe, her phone buzzed again.

This time the name on the screen was

“Lily.”