anyway, of course. I knew it was a bad idea accepting that bribe to hand over the idea, but it was a bad year. My dad needed that big operation and I needed the money to help him. Colin was so persuasive and I thought..." She shakes her head. "Thought I could keep it under wraps. But the guilt kept eating away at me. And when my dad found out a few days ago, he demanded I come forward. So, I did."
"But why didn't you come to me, is what I can't understand," I say, wanting to shake her. 'So, I did' - does she have any fucking clue what her 'so, I did' is going to cost me? "Don't you realize - "
"I wasn't thinking straight," Pamela confesses, whipping the hair back. "I'd just lived with it for so long, I just wanted it off my chest. Blurt it out. I didn't think it through. I just reacted. I was afraid that if I didn't come forward, I'd keep making excuses."
What she's saying makes sense, would make sense, except -
"I'm the lawyer on the case," I snarl. "You didn't think - "
"No," she says miserably, an up-down of her shoulders. "I didn't."
Her gaze searches mine. "But Goldtree, they didn't actually..."
"They did," I confirm with a swift nod. "I'm off the case."
"Oh," is all she says, sagging against the kitchen counter behind her. "Shit."
"Yeah, basically." I let out a laugh, though there's no mirth in it. "The firm's having its annual review this week, too."
Pamela's mouth forms a horrified 'O' in comprehension. "Kyra, I never thought - "
"Yeah, that's just it." My voice is rising and it feels good, good to be letting this anger out. "You never thought about anything other than yourself. And now I could lose my job."
Her head is hung, looking at the tile floor we put down together, way back when I first bought this place.
Pamela's been with me through everything. But this... this could ruin everything. Has it?
"I don't know what to say," she says quietly, meeting my gaze miserably. "I'm sorry. I know it doesn't mean much." Sad, bitter laugh. "Hell, it means jack shit. "But I never wanted for any of this to happen."
"Why couldn't you have asked me for help for your dad's operation?" I ask. I still can't get my head around all this. That it was Pamela. Pompom. That she was the one who took the bribe from Collin Storm. She was the one who could've handed me the case tied in a bow. And instead turned the bow into a noose around my neck. "You know I would've been happy to."
"I know, I just..." A sigh. "You know how my family is about borrowing money. My mom has never been able to pay back my uncle for that money he gave them for the house, so we try to avoid borrowing at all costs. I didn't want the money I'd borrowed from you hanging over our heads and messing up our friendship if I couldn't pay it back." She exhales, grabs a tissue from the countertop and blows her nose noisily. When she looks up, her nose is pink on the freckled tip, her eyes rimmed with red. "But now I've messed it up anyway, haven't I?"
The question hangs in the air. It sits me down on the kitchen chair, opens and closes my mouth.
How to begin to answer that?
One thing is for sure: I won't be able to do it justice now, with how I'm feeling. Like I've run a marathon. I guess it isn't all that surprising, with all that's happened in the past 24 hours. Talk about emotional exhaustion.
"Sorry for messing up your vacation too, for what it's worth," Pamela's saying now. "If there's anything I can do..." She trails off, stepping away from the counter and drawing herself upright.
She lets out a long, ragged breath, presses her lips together. Her green eyes are bright with tears. "You need time. I get it." Head bob. "I just hope you can forgive me at some point."
She turns away, pausing. Waiting for me to say something that I can't. Promise that things will be OK.
But I don't know that. I don't know what tomorrow will bring.
All I know is that right now, I want to hug her. And slap her. Yell at her and cry with her.
"Goodbye, Pompom," I say softly.
A half-smile crosses her face. Maybe she's right - maybe there's some hope in that. That I