Stay Tuned

Chapter 62

Chris was waiting in the foyer when I walked through the front door of the house at close to midnight.

“A million-two!” he said.

I set down my bag and put my hands on my hips. “Are you kidding? For real?”
    
Chris grinned and folded his arms across his chest. “I started to tell you this morning. Macon Financial. They’re going to pay me one-point-two million to settle. One-point-two million not to sue them for sexual harassment and to keep me from splashing the hedge fund story all over the media.”

Chris shook his head. “Plus they fired Tyler. They let her go today! What do you think about that?”

“Oh, my. Wow.” My knees wobbled. I braced myself on the wall with one hand. “And so what are you going to do?”

“Take the money. Be done with it.” Chris replied. “That’s what the lawyer says. We’d be crazy not to do it. I don’t want to go to court and fight some legal battle.”

“Are you thinking about going out on your own?” It was perfect timing for Chris. My palms got sweaty. I needed to talk to him about Darius.

“What is it?” He tugged on my arm. “What’s wrong?”

I tried to focus on my shoe. A speck on the floor. Anything but Chris.

Chris’s hand tugged my arm. “Come here. Sit down. I need to show you something.”

Too tired to protest, I let myself be led into the living room, then to the loveseat. Chris turned to the television. He took a white case from the top of the entertainment center and slipped out a disk, then inserted it into the DVD player.

The DVD. Of Chris and Tyler.

I started shaking my head. “No, Chris. I don’t want to watch that.”

He turned around, red-faced and flustered. “I-I don’t want you to either. This isn’t easy for me. But what I’ve decided, especially after seeing your reaction a few minutes ago, is that you’ll never believe me if you don’t see the DVD for yourself.”

“I thought you didn’t have it,” I demanded.

Chris glanced at the disk. “I told you the original was delivered to the CEO of the company. I didn’t say anything about a copy.”

My hands gripped the edge of the loveseat. I shut my eyes. So many secrets and half-truths. And I had my own guilty conscience.

“I’m playing it,” he said finally. “You can watch it or not.” Chris pressed the button and stepped away from the television set.

A boardroom table came into focus, with Chris at the far end. He had stacks of paper around him, folders to one side. Pencils and pens lined up in front of him. A tall, thin centerpiece sat in the middle of the table, filled with roses and lilies.

A door opened and closed. Chris looked up. His face showed no expression.

“Well, hello, sugar,” said a woman, still off-camera. Her voice was soft and slow, with a deep Southern accent. “How’s everythin’ going here? Need some help?”

Tiny goose bumps popped out on my arms. I wanted to tear my eyes away. I couldn’t.
 
Chris’s eyes widened. He looked down at his work. “Um, not really, Tyler. Thanks anyway.”

The woman laughed. It was a satisfied sound. She was in control, it said.

A slender woman with long, straight brunette hair and a snug red suit appeared in the corner of the frame. Taking one step, then another, she walked down the side of the table, letting the fingertips of one hand trail over the top of each chair.