237 Ks Zero Fs Chapter 03
My posting to London happened to overlap with the Seattle headquarters’ annual business gala.
The HR director posted the dress code in the team Slack channel.
I glanced at it and felt exhaustion settle into my bones. I didn’t want to go.
I was halfway through typing my excuse when the director messaged me privately. Management was planning to announce my transfer at the gala. They wanted to toast my send-off. The occasion mattered for me.
Well. When she put it that way.
I walked out onto the terrace and called Conor. “Company gala Friday night. I need a plus-one. Otherwise I’ll be the odd one out the whole evening. Are you free?”
His end was chaos. The bass thumping through the speaker was almost loud enough to vibrate the phone.
“I can’t hear you! Hold on…”
A shuffle of footsteps. The background noise dropped slightly.
“Okay. Go ahead. What’s up?”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Climate Pledge Arena. Watching the Billie Eilish concert with Hailey.” He paused.
Then he added, transparently covering his tracks: “She’s been dying to see this tour for months. Barely managed to get tickets. Her roommate bailed at the last minute, so I’m just being a decent guy and filling in.”
A cynical smile tugged at my lips. “I was just asking. No need to throw a whole explanation at me.”
Conor’s breathing seemed to get heavier.
I repeated the gala information. He didn’t answer directly. He muttered something about bad reception and hung up.
Friday evening. I stood outside the Hyatt Regency revolving doors in a thin evening gown, waiting for Conor.
An hour passed. Not even the shadow of a car.
Washington State’s early-winter devil wind kicked up. Freezing rain slanted in sideways, soaking my expensive Jimmy Choo heels. The stockings clung to my calves, the cold like needles stabbing into bone.
I rubbed my arms and retreated into the ballroom.
By the time I came back out with a glass of champagne, Conor was already at a table.
Attending as Hailey’s partner.
“Maya! Over here!” Hailey, draped in that eye-catching red dress, waved at me with exaggerated excitement.
Everyone else at the round table had paired off. I was the only one alone. The scene was acutely uncomfortable.
I turned to head for the bar, but the director pushed me toward the table from behind.
“Maya, your husband’s right there! Go on!”
She shoved me into the empty seat across from Conor, winked at him, and teased, “Conor, your wife’s here. How about pulling out her chair?”
Hailey sat beside Conor, practically glued to his side all night. Every time a male colleague approached to chat, she’d reach out and lightly tug at Conor’s sleeve, tilting her head up at him with a pleading, helpless expression.
The smile on the director’s face went rigid. She looked at me, then at the two of them. Grasping for damage control, all she could manage was a dry, “No big deal. I’ll go rustle up a bachelor for Maya.”
I tightened my grip on the champagne glass and fixed Conor with a cold stare.
This was basic human decency.
I had asked him first. Even if he didn’t want to be my plus-one, the bare minimum was a text. A heads-up. Anything. Not leaving me standing in freezing rain for an hour.
Before I could unleash, Conor launched into his self-righteous explanation:
“Hailey’s had a few guys from the engineering internship pestering her lately. They keep bothering her. She asked me to come along so I could help run interference. Everyone knows I’m a married man. Standing here is deterrent enough.”
“She’s fresh out of school. Doesn’t get workplace dynamics yet. I’m her mentor. I have an obligation to look out for her.”
Once again, in front of a crowd, he had firmly chosen to play Hailey’s protector.
The first time, to protect his sleep, he’d almost left me buried alive under a mudslide.
The second time, to protect her social standing, he’d made me a laughingstock in front of the entire company.
The director ultimately failed to find me a plus-one.
I sat alone in the most inconspicuous corner, dodging every single one of the ice-breaker partner games.
Watching my legal husband and the intern I’d personally trained enjoy song after pop song on the dance floor.
The final segment was an anonymous question game.
When Hailey dragged Conor onto the stage, the colleagues below quieted noticeably for a moment.
Probably remembering the incident that had blown up engineering circles three years ago. The “near-fatal mudslide.”
People exchanged glances. A lot of sympathetic looks stole their way toward me.
It felt like a needle-tip piercing through every pore. An unbearable, crawling discomfort.
The old, long-dormant coldness inside me began to stir, pulling itself to the surface.