89 — The weak link
“A plan?” Julian’s eyes shine in an understanding that makes me regret playing with his expectations, and then he adds to me, “I see… when you said you *had a plan,* that’s what you were talking about.”
“Before I explain everything, how about ordering something? I don’t want to disturb your lunch.”
Julian clenches his teeth, probably swallowing petty words. It’s funny how he’s always composed but seems on edge now. I never imagined he was the jealous type; it’s like he has so many facets yet to be uncovered. But, well, it doesn’t matter… I feel like I could love them all.
“Just a double American,” Julian says plainly, without looking at the menu, and I order the fastest choice — a *Club Sandwich.*
Tyler moves away to prepare the orders, and Julian brings his face close to mine to whisper, “What are you up to behind my back, little girl?”
“I told you the photo wasn’t what you thought it was,” I mumble, shifting restlessly in my chair, feeling his cologne intoxicating me. “We had a theory and confirmed it.”
“And what would that theory be, hmm?” He brushes his lips against my ear, “For you to get so close that it seems like you two were kissing?”
“Are you still upset about that?” I move my face, looking directly into his eyes, and looking up this closely, they seem even more like emeralds.
“I just don’t trust that guy-”
“Don’t worry, *Grandpa.”* Tyler interrupts him, placing our orders on the table. Julian glares at him, and I have to hold back my laugh at the nickname. “I’m just trying to help with the stalker problem and get back at that psycho. Hopefully, we get them both at one stake.”
Julian frowns, tapping his fingers on the table, watching intently as Tyler sits right in front of us. I can’t tell if he’s more bothered by the nickname, by being interrupted, or by Tyler sitting there so casually.
Either way, he doesn’t look very happy now.
“He’s talking about Laura.” I point out innocently.
“I’m aware,” Julian grumbles, snorting, then picks up his mug to take a generous sip of coffee. Apparently, the booze is still taking its toll. “So, what’s the plan?”
Tyler looks at me as if seeking my permission.
And well, I have to be honest... I wanted to solve it my way. I thought that if I involved Julian, maybe my pride would be hurt. I didn’t want to hold on to him or anyone else when this problem affects only me — and Tyler, in a way.
But now, I don’t feel defeated or bad by involving Julian or counting on him... So I nod and turn to Julian, seeing his eyes firmly on mine.
“It’s highly possible that Laura is behind all this. I can’t imagine anyone else who would take such pleasure in destroying my life, and she’s proved to be determined to do it lately. She’s two-faced, but her manipulations don’t blind me or Tyler anymore. When we talked and found out what she’s *really like,* we concluded that yes, it could be her.”
“This crazy woman has been texting me, asking to see me, to come back. There are so many different numbers; it’s truly stalker behavior.” Tyler adds, but Julian doesn’t look at him for a moment.
“So we did a test yesterday. From that angle, it really looked like something was happening between us. If someone just wanted to screw me over, they wouldn’t take pictures of me kissing someone else. There’s nothing wrong with a kiss. And remember, they recorded me at the club... *dancing in my lingerie on stage...”* I say low, suddenly embarrassed to remember that. “And not when I kissed someone else.”
“Right.”
“But this time, they posted a picture of me *kissing* Tyler...” I make quotation marks with my fingers, watching Julian clenches his teeth tightly, his jaw muscles jumping. “The person even said he was Laura’s ex-boyfriend. People are guessing that he’s the baby’s father and that she became a single mother because of me. This narrative fits perfectly with the photo.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s her,” Julian says coldly, sending a shiver down my spine because, yes, I know it doesn’t prove anything. It’s not enough; we need more proof. “The I.T. found nothing but a dead end.”
“That’s what they told me, but I think we can push a bit harder.” I finally turn my eyes to Tyler, directing my words at him, “You said you have a plan... Tell me more about it.”
Tyler gives me a mischievous smile, alternating his eyes on Julian and me.
“To make this work, we need a weak link... Someone who’s on Laura’s side but at the same time isn’t loyal to anyone. A person who plays all sides but seeks their own benefit first.” He says, with a wicked voice that sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you have someone in mind?”
Yes, there’s no doubt about it.
*The weak link.*
Someone who plays all sides.
Someone who isn’t faithful to anyone.
“Grace,” I say, the name slipping smoothly through my lips. “She’s the one who started it all.”
***
Back at the office, with the whole plan running through my head, I’m just waiting for the show to begin... for when we’ll start moving our pieces to seek justice for Laura’s misdeeds.
However, something has been bothering me deeply.
Since the whole plan was explained, Julian has listened silently. He really hasn’t said a word.
Honestly, I expected him to say something, maybe that *I’m crazy, that I’m being petty,* or at least express his opinion about it. But he kept quiet the whole time, and when we returned to the company, he went straight to his office… At least he agreed to cooperate fully despite everything.
But first, I need to set the stage and make sure everything is in place. That’s why, when I see Grace getting up and going to the break room, I do the same, straightening my hair and walking slowly, like there’s no meaning at all.
I approach just as she fills her glass with water, giving me enough time to catch her attention. Fortunately, it won’t be difficult.
The reason I chose Grace as the weak link is because, of all the people around Laura, she is the only one who continues to act normally when we are alone. Her mask remains intact, which gives me a chance to get closer… And I prove it when she greets me with a friendly smile while I feign interest in an espresso. Even though terrible rumors are being spread, she still cares to keep up appearances with me.
*That’s what makes her perfect for this.*
“Oh, Grace! Since you invited me to that club, I’ve been thinking... we haven’t had another chance to go out together, have we?” I look at her innocently, noticing that she seems suddenly distressed. “I want to make it up to you.”
“It’s okay...” She says abashed, giving a forced laugh, “You don’t have to -”
“I got invitations to *The Elysian...”* I catch her face suddenly changing, so I hurry to say in a soft tone, “You’re new to New York, but you must have heard of it, right?”
Of course... By the way her eyes shine at the mention of this extremely exclusive club, I can tell I’m not wrong about her character.
“I just heard that only people from high society get in...” Her voice comes out soft, and her whole posture changes. If before she was forcing herself to smile, now she’s looking at me like I’m a gold mine.
“That’s the one!” I say with fake excitement, trying to mirror the futility in her eyes. “I got the invitations, and I’m calling some close friends. I thought of you because, even though we’re not that close, you’ve also invited me before... But it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable.”
“No, no!” She tries to mimic my tone and movements, almost like she’s a mirror now. *It honestly disgusts me.* “If you’re being so considerable... I’d love to!”
“Oh, but please, don’t mention it to anyone...” I say innocently, in a low tone, looking around, “Invitations are short; if other people find out, there won’t be enough for everyone. And if everyone can’t go, then nobody should... You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.” With a soft smile, she adds, “You can count on me.”
I know the bait is too good to be ignored by the likes of her... I can see it in the way her eyes shine with greed.
“Friday, then?” I smile back, picking up my coffee that I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to drink — my stomach is churning.
Grace nods in agreement, saying how excited she is when my phone buzzes with a text from Tyler. I dismiss her gently, walking back to my desk as I read,
**[It’s done. Be ready at three.]**
I look at the clock: 2:53 p.m.
*Already?*
My heart is pounding while I sit back in my chair, sinking completely into it. I pull out my phone, looking for something else to grab my attention, but the computer screen is open with the projects waiting to be done, and none of them can distract me...
The truth is that I’m so anxious that I break out in a cold sweat. There’s no way I can work in this state.
I discreetly raise my eyes again to find Laura on the other side, at her desk, sniffling like her world is falling apart. Honestly, besides the shame she felt at being scolded by Julian earlier, I don’t believe any of her reactions. She has so many faces that it’s hard to know which one is the real one.
*2:55 p.m.*
Time seems to drag on.
Now I look at Julian’s door, suddenly tempted to find some excuse to see him. Perhaps a report I haven’t done, a stupid question I already know the answer to, or simply to knock and say that I miss him, even though his warmth was so close to mine just a few hours ago.
This need is starting to get on my nerves.
My attention turns to the huge clock on the wall before me...
*2:59 p.m.*
I hold my breath, watching the seconds tick by so fast that I catch myself counting them down... And when the sound of the elevator reaches my ears, a shiver runs up my spine.
The metal doors open, and heavy footsteps begin filling the office, attracting murmurs and curious looks that theorize about what’s happening. But I know... It’s clear that the show has begun.
The pieces have started to move.
“Mr. Angelee O’Neil?” An unfamiliar voice makes me look up… and faced with his friendly expression, I feel almost guilty for making him deliver something so empty and unromantic, which is only a way for a petty plan. In his hands, a bouquet of white lilies catches my eye — not just mine, but everyone around me is looking at it.
My track record with bouquets at work isn’t the best, but this time it’s different... I accept them, thanking the delivery man with a sweet smile while my eyes immediately land on Laura. And she doesn’t look at me angrily, no... she’s petrified!
Her eyes are bulging, her mouth half-open, her face pale...
This bouquet may have been delivered into my hands, but it’s not a message addressed to me. And now I understand why she got so angry when Eric sent me roses. It was never about him.
*White lilies* — the same ones Tyler bought before he caught her in bed with Eric.
Guilty conscience is a bitch, a trap that our own mind makes against us.
And you, Laura... You’re about to fall into yours.