The Second No

Chapter 15

I called him from the lobby with the speaker on and five people standing around me.

Not because I wanted witnesses. Because my hands were shaking and I couldn't hold the phone to my ear and the phone kept slipping and finally Luis said, "Miss Brennan, put it on the table," and I put it on the table, face up, and hit the number from the note.

It rang twice.

"Ms. Brennan," Adrian Voss said.

The super was standing there in his work boots with his gloves in his hand. The delivery kid was there with his bag. Mrs. Delgado was there with her coat still on and her arms crossed. Luis was behind the desk with his cap off. And two women from the fourth floor had come down and were standing by the mailboxes pretending to sort their mail.

"How much is the water bill," I said.

"Good morning to you too."

"How much is the water bill."

"Whatever the number is."

"That's not an answer, that's a receipt." I leaned on the table. "You paid my mother's doctors. You paid my landlord. Now you're paying my building's water and the super's in the basement yelling at a plumber, and there are people in this lobby who think I'm the reason their water was off on a Tuesday."

"Is it back on?"

"That's not the point."

"Is it back on," he said again.

The super said, "It's back on."

"It's back on," I said.

"Then good."

"Don't say then good." I had both hands flat on the table now. "You didn't send the coffee because you wanted me to drink it. You sent the coffee so I'd know you knew."

"I sent the coffee because you were going to sit in that apartment all morning rehearsing a speech," he said. "You don't do mornings well. You never have."

The lobby went quiet.

Not the quiet where people stop talking. The quiet where people stop moving.

"Say that again," I said.

"You don't do mornings well."

"How would you know that?"

The two women by the mailboxes had stopped sorting their mail.

"Ms. Brennan," Adrian said, "you called me to say no. Say it."

"I'm getting to it."

"Say it now, or I'm going to start telling you things you didn't ask about."

"Fine." I straightened up. "No."

"Say it like you mean it."

"No," I said, and my voice came off the lobby marble, and the two women by the mailboxes turned around all the way. "No. I'm not signing your folder. I'm not marrying you for thirty days. I'm not standing at a dinner with a man who pays my mother's doctors without asking and then tells me he knows how I sleep. I don't care what you paid. I don't care what you know. The answer is no."

Luis put his cap on.

"Okay," Adrian said.

The whole lobby waited.

"That's it?" I said. "Okay?"

"What did you want?"

"I wanted —" I stopped.

"You wanted me to argue," he said. "You wanted me to fight for it. You called me at nine in the morning from a lobby with a speaker on because you wanted a fight, and now I'm saying okay, and it's making you crazy."

"Nothing is making me crazy."

"The water bill is making you crazy."

"The water bill is making me crazy," I said, and Mrs. Delgado made a sound like a laugh, and I turned and looked at her, and she put her hand over her mouth.

"Then I'll stop," Adrian said. "No more payments. The doctors are paid for three months and they stay paid — that was done, I told you it was done, and I don't take back a thing I've already given. But no more. No more water bills. No more coffee."

"Good."

"Good," he said. "Is that everything?"

I looked at the phone on the lobby table.

"One more thing," I said.

"Go ahead."

"There's a name that came up."

"Which name."

I looked at the lobby. Luis. Mrs. Delgado. The super. The delivery kid. The two women from the fourth floor who had given up on their mail entirely.

"Adrian Voss," I said. "Somebody said that name to me eight months ago in a parking lot on Weller Street and I forgot it by the time I got to my car. I want to know who."

The line was quiet for one second too long.

"Did Morgan Hale call you yet," Adrian said.

The lobby tilted.

"What?"

"Did Morgan Hale call you yet," he said again, flat as a table. "Because he will. He's seen the video. Everybody's seen the video. And a man like Morgan Hale doesn't watch a video of his ex-girlfriend screaming at a hotel clerk about a check without picking up the phone."

"You answer my question."

"I did answer your question," he said. "You asked who said my name to you in a parking lot. I asked you a question first. That's the rule. You don't get my answer until I get yours."

"What rule? I didn't sign your folder—"

"The rule isn't in the folder," Adrian said. "The rule is in the man. And the man doesn't answer questions for free." He paused. "So. Did he call you yet."

The super said, quiet, "Damn."

"Nobody's talking to you," I said, and the super raised his hands, and I picked the phone up off the table. "No. He didn't call."

"Then he's going to."

"You don't know that."

"I know that," he said. "And Ms. Brennan — when he calls, and he will, don't take it in a room. Take it in the lobby. Take it with the speaker on."

The phone went dead.

The whole lobby stood there.

I put the phone down on the table.

"He hung up on me," I said.

"He didn't hang up on you," Mrs. Delgado said. "He gave you homework."

"Mrs. Delgado—"

"He gave you homework," she said again, and picked up her mail, and walked to the elevator, and the two women from the fourth floor went with her like they'd been given a signal.

My phone rang.

I looked down.

The screen said Morgan Hale.

The lobby table. The speaker. Luis behind the desk with his cap on straight. The delivery kid, who had not left and was never going to leave. The super, who had a clipboard and no reason to be in my lobby but was in my lobby.

I put it on the table and I hit the speaker, and the whole lobby heard me say it.

"Morgan."

"Mia." His voice. Eight months and his voice did the thing it does — went down and got warm and made you think you were the only person in the room. "Jesus. Where are you? I've been trying to get you since Sunday."

"I'm in my lobby."

"Your lobby?"

"My building's lobby. I'm here with my doorman and my super and my neighbor Mrs. Delgado and a delivery kid who's got a bag of somebody's groceries and no reason to be standing here, so whatever you want to say to me, say it so the whole floor can hear it."

"Mia."

"Say it."

The lobby was so quiet I could hear the elevator motor.

"Okay," Morgan said, and his voice went careful. "Okay. Fine. I've seen the video. Whole office has seen the video. That's not a thing you do, Mia. You don't stand in a street screaming at a car."

"You want to talk about what I do in the street?"

"I want to talk about the man," Morgan said. "I want to talk about who he is, because nobody knows who he is, and the one thing I do know is that he walked into that dinner with you and told a room full of people you were a paid date."

The super lowered his clipboard.

"He told the truth," I said.

"He humiliated you."

"I humiliated me," I said. "I hired him. I told him to lie. He wouldn't."

"Somebody's been asking questions about you," Morgan said. "You know that? They've been calling the office. Asking when you left. Asking about the parking lot."

My hand went cold on the table.

"Which office?"

"Mine. Twice last week. And I'll tell you something else—" He stopped. "I'm not going to do this over a speaker."

"You're going to do it over a speaker or you're not going to do it."

The lobby waited.

"Fine," Morgan said. "Whoever it is, they know about Weller. They know about the parking lot. They asked me a question about that night that I didn't like and then they thanked me and hung up, and Mia, I'm going to ask you this one time — are you in some kind of trouble?"

Luis said, "Miss Brennan," very quietly.

"No," I said.

"Because if a man is paying your mother's doctors—"

"How do you know who's paying my mother's doctors?"

The line went silent.

"Morgan," I said. "How do you know who's paying my mother's doctors."

"I've got to go," Morgan said, and his voice was different now, flat, and there was a sound behind him like a chair moving. "Mia — take it off speaker. Take it off speaker right now."

"Why do you know who's paying my mother's doctors?"

"Because somebody sent it to me," Morgan said, and there was a crash on his end, a door — an office door coming open. "Somebody sent it to me this morning, and there's a note with it, and the note says—" His voice went up. "Look, I've got people walking into my office—"

The lobby door opened.

The delivery kid said, "Yo, there's a dude on the stoop."

"Take it off speaker," Morgan said, and hung up.

The lobby door was open. The stoop was there. And a man in a gray suit, no coat, no folder, was standing on the stoop of my building with a phone in his hand and a woman behind him with a camera.

"Ms. Brennan?" he called, through the open door. "I'm with the Post. Two questions — is it true Adrian Voss is paying your mother's medical bills, and did Morgan Hale know about the marriage before you did?"

The doors of my building came around and shut with a bang the whole lobby felt.

---

Chapter 15 Ends