Strike Me Down - Mindy Mejia Page 0,16

blinked. “What?”

“They passed the vetting process this afternoon, and Jim told me to make it happen. He and Rajesh are preparing for that conference in Singapore and I’m taking the family to the North Shore for the weekend, so that leaves you.” He drained the rest of his beer and set a bill next to the empty glass.

“You’re assuming there are no threats to my independence.” She sat up straighter, trying to slow this whole conversation down.

“Don’t make a fuss about your membership,” Corbett said. “It’s not an issue. How much do you pay to go there?”

“Five hundred dollars a month.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t have a gaggle of children to feed and clothe.”

“Or a wife who considers Amazon her own personal warehouse.” He muttered, reaching across the bar for her beer, and took a healthy swig. “How much of your monthly disposable income does that represent? Ten percent? Fifteen?”

“Closer to ten.”

He shook his head and scooped his cash back off the bar. “You’re buying this round. You should’ve bought every round this month.”

She tossed out a twenty without comment, grinning despite the rumbling of unease in her gut.

“The membership’s negligible,” he continued. “It’s not an investment, anyway. Month to month?”

She nodded.

“It’s a discretionary consumption, just like eating at a restaurant. You put all this through the framework already.” It wasn’t a question. The conceptual framework for independence worked like a living machine at the edges of their minds. “And if it really bothers you, you can always suspend your membership for the duration of the case. Or, Christ, join another gym. For a hell of a lot cheaper.”

He was right; it was just a gym and there were a host of others downtown, but even the idea of them repelled. They wouldn’t smell like the sweat that emanated off the bags; their walls wouldn’t echo with Logan’s voice, pushing them to be stronger, jab faster. Guards up! You never know what’s coming at you next.

“I’m not worried about that. The membership doesn’t compromise my independence.”

“See, there’s no problem. You can take it.” He stood up to leave and before she’d figured out the best way to phrase it or map all the possible responses, she grabbed his arm and swung him back around.

“I had sex with Gregg Abbott.”

It wasn’t what she’d meant to say. It wasn’t the reason she felt conflicted, but before she could tell him more or try to explain the feeling twisting her stomach, Corbett’s expression froze. He looked directly at her for the first time since they’d sat down, his mouth open, and all the good things he’d thought her to be seemed to drain slowly from his eyes.

“Ellie, you’re married.”

* * *

“Jesus Christ.” Corbett had left the dark crush of Ike’s happy hour and pushed his way out to the sun-broiled downtown streets. He walked fast and hard, but Nora kept up. “You slept with him. You slept with him.” He kept repeating it, changing the emphasis to a different word each time, as if trying to find the one that would finally make sense. She felt shock reverberating through him and didn’t know how many knots of their friendship were loosening, becoming unsecured.

“I didn’t know who he was at the time. But now …”

They stopped near a crowd waiting for the light to change and Nora stared at the trucks and cars honking their way through the intersection. “Gregg said something happened to him and Logan recently, an event she blamed him for. Maybe she found out about the affair.”

“You’re speculating.” Corbett’s voice dropped into short, clipped tones.

“I know, but it would make sense. Most people resist polyamory.”

“I can hardly believe I’m having this conversation right now. Mike’s a good man. And you’re a mother, for Christ’s sake.”

“I told you, we have an—”

“An open marriage.” He shook his head like gnats were buzzing in front of his face. “What does that even mean?”

The light changed and the crowd hurried into the crosswalk, Corbett and Nora among them.

“It means we don’t rely on each other for every physical and emotional need. You know Mike.” She gestured helplessly. “He’s affectionate, demonstrative. He was born to cuddle with someone while watching TV, and I …” She shrugged.

“You were born to expose liars and cheats and you think that means you have to keep everyone in your life at a fifty-meter distance.” Corbett shook his head. “This makes perfect sense coming from you, Ellie. I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

She hadn’t expected him to understand, but even so, the bite