P.S. You’re Intolerable (The Harder They Fall)
P.S. You’re Intolerable: Chapter 17

CATHERINE APPEARED IN THE living room, swinging a baby monitor from her index finger. I’d been doing work on my laptop, waiting for her to show, though I hadn’t been certain she would.

I clicked my computer shut and set it beside me. “She’s asleep?”

“Like a baby.”

She handed me the monitor and plopped down on the opposite side of the couch from me, tucking her legs beneath her.

The screen showed Jo swaddled in her bassinet, her head turned to the side, lips pursed like she was dreaming about milk. She probably was. Milk and her mom were all she knew. A simple, perfect little world.

“Do you spend a lot of time staring at this?” I asked, placing the monitor between us.

“Probably too much.” She wrinkled her nose. “When I brought her home, I had the bassinet right beside my bed, but every little noise she made had me popping up to check on her. I’m a bad sleeper as it is, but I really couldn’t get any rest like that. My solution was to move her to the far side of my bedroom and set up the monitor.”

“Did it help?”

She shrugged. “A little. I’m still a shit sleeper, but I’ve always been like that.”

“Why are you a shit sleeper?”

“Don’t know. My dad used to say my mind was a dervish, always whipping up trouble.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Her mouth curved. “Well, you didn’t know younger me. I was a major troublemaker.”

“I wouldn’t have believed that a couple weeks ago, but now that I’ve seen all your tattoos…”

She pushed up the sleeve of her cardigan, revealing her inked forearm. “Maybe I just like being colorful. Don’t tell me you’ve got a boomer mindset and everyone who has tattoos is a criminal.”

“I absolutely don’t believe that.” I took a moment to study the long tail feathers of a phoenix snaking along the length of her forearm, clusters of flowers shadowing it. Tattoos weren’t my forte, but these appeared to be fine quality. She wore them well on her soft, pale skin and it was a shame she hid them. “I’m curious why you’ve kept them so thoroughly covered all this time.”

She let her sleeve fall down to her wrist. “I suppose I have a little boomer in me. I can hear my father’s voice in my head, telling me tattoos aren’t professional. And since I didn’t know how you’d feel about them—though I admit I assumed you wouldn’t be a fan—I decided the safer option was covering them up.”

“I’m not a fan of all tattoos, but the ones I’ve seen on you are really nice.”

A flush rose from her chest, traveling to the apples of her cheeks. She’d been blushing like that for me from the beginning. The smallest compliment, and her blood heated.

“Well, thank you. I like them too.”

“Is your dad still living?”

Her head jerked back, color draining from her face in an instant. Interesting. “Why do you ask?”

“You mentioned him, and I was curious if he knew how you were living in that house. If you were my daughter, I would do everything in my power to take you out of that situation.”

She shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the bottom of her sweats and adjusting the straps of her tank.

“My parents aren’t a part of my life, so no, he didn’t know.”

“And Josephine’s father? Did he know?”

That question brought on a sigh that could have taken out a small country with its weight. We’d been avoiding the topic of her house all week. She hadn’t been ready to talk about it, so I’d given her time. The state I’d found her in had been so fragile I wouldn’t have dreamed of pushing her.

But she’d slowly relaxed over the days she and Jo had been here. The change in her had been evident. Each day that passed, her skin became brighter, her eyes clearer, and her smiles came easier. I didn’t take any credit for it besides providing her with shelter. It had to be getting out of that wreckage that had given her room to breathe.

“I don’t know if he did. I suppose he must have had an inkling since it’s his fault I am where I am.” She rubbed her lips together. “I met Liam while he was volunteering to build houses in Mexico. I was the project coordinator. Then we traveled around, volunteering, working, and, yeah, partying. We ended up in Costa Rica for a while, and I loved it there. Have you been?”

“I haven’t. Unfortunately, my travel has been confined to work lately.”

“Mine too.” She shot me a weak little grin. “Anyway, Liam got this idea for us to flip a house together. One of the volunteers we befriended was from Denver, and she gave us tips on neighborhoods to buy in. After that, it was a whirlwind. Liam became obsessed with the idea, wouldn’t let it drop, so we moved, bought the house, and—”

“Where’d you get the money?” Buying a house wasn’t cheap, and she couldn’t have made much working for a nonprofit.

“Liam came from poverty, and he was broke from traveling and volunteering, but I had a small-ish trust fund. We put a chunk down and took out a loan for the rest.”

I was beginning to understand what had happened, but I needed her to say it before I reacted.

“So you bought a flip property.” I raised my eyebrows. “Who did the work? Because I think you should tell them to go back to school if that’s the best they can do.”

She sucked in a jagged breath. “It’s a bit of a story.”

“I have the time. Tell me.”

Without further preamble, Catherine launched into a tale that made my jaw tighten and fists clench. This dick, her purported friend, had gotten her to sink her savings into a house far too expensive to make sense as an investment. Had he done his own research instead of listening to some random person volunteering with them, he would have known that.

On top of the ill-advised investment, the ex had hired shoddy people to do the work, and when Catherine couldn’t pay, they’d upped their shoddiness and stripped her house bare.

Liam was lucky he was on another continent. He showed his face around me anytime soon, the violence thrumming in my veins wouldn’t be contained.

“Who the fuck does that to their friend?” I seethed.

“I know.” She pressed her hands to her temples.

“Who the fuck does that to the mother of their child?”

“I know, Elliot.”

“He wasn’t your friend.”

Her head dropped. “So he showed me.”

“He’s not a father either.”

Another sigh, equally heavy. “I’m aware.”

“You’re aware now. You should have been aware a year ago. A man who leaves his pregnant friend alone and then doesn’t come back for his baby is not a good person. You should have seen that far before sinking your savings into a house with no real plans of how you were going to do the work it required or how long you could float before you had to pay the bank.”

She leaped to her feet, arms flinging to the sides. “Don’t you think I get it? I’m an idiot. I fell for the pretty picture a man I shouldn’t have trusted painted for me. I should have seen it coming, but I wanted it too bad to use common sense. The house, the stability, the little family. I was dumb and needy. I brought my daughter into a bad situation. I know that. I know it!”

Her face was pink, tears cutting thick, broken lines down her cheeks. Alarm bells rang in my head, and panic churned frothy in my gut. Once again, I’d gone too far. Took a hammer to a situation that required velvet gloves. Catherine wasn’t one of the hardened men I dealt with on a daily basis, but I’d spoken to her like she was.

“Catherine—”

Her hair crashed around her shoulders from the violent shake of her head. “I get that I’m a bad mother. A failure of a mother. Don’t you think I know? I wasn’t ready for this, but I was selfish and had her anyway because I wanted her. Now look at me, making a fucking fool of myself in front of my boss and—”

I was on my feet, dragging her into my arms before I could think. This was exactly what I’d avoided for months—getting close to her, touching her—but I needed her to calm down, to be okay, more than I needed to preserve my boundaries.

Locked up memories of my own mother breaking down, falling apart, sobbing for days on end, clawed free. I was hugging Catherine but squeezing Elaine. The past and present blended, and I clamped my eyes shut, willing myself to remember who was in front of me.

Not my broken mother.

This was Catherine, having a bad moment, a bad few days, a tough fucking month or two. That was all it was. This wasn’t the end of everything.

“You’re okay,” I murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I’m so stupid,” she rasped, letting her face fall heavy on my chest.

“You’re not. You made mistakes, but you’re not even close to stupid. I’m sorry.”

I cupped the back of her head and stroked her long, thick hair. Her cries were weak, barely even whimpers, but her shoulders shook like earthquakes.

“I let him lie to me. Lie for me. Why did I do that?”

“You said it, Catherine. You wanted a family. There’s nothing shameful about that.”

“That isn’t true. My shame is so deep I don’t know where it ends. And now I’m stuck, so stuck, and I never wanted to be in this position.” Her fingers curled into my T-shirt, clutching me like the only thing tethering her from falling under all this heaviness. “I shouldn’t be holding you,” she whispered.

“I’m holding you. There’s nothing wrong with accepting comfort when it’s offered.” I dragged my hand down the length of her spine. “Tell me to let you go and I will. But I can keep holding you for as long as you need to feel okay.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Have you ever known me to do anything I don’t want to?”

“Never.” She knocked her forehead against me. “I need to tell you something else since I’m spilling my guts.”

My muscles tensed, bracing for impact. An instinctive response from long ago when I had to be prepared for my mother’s extreme highs and rock-bottom lows.

That wasn’t what this was, though. Catherine wasn’t Elaine Levy.

I continued my path up her hair, soothing her as much as calming me. “Go ahead.”

She blurted out her confession in a rush. “After my interview with you, Liam told me he’d added a fake company to my résumé so I would look like I had more experience. I chose not to do anything about it, but I truly didn’t believe I’d get the job. Then I did, and I was paranoid that someone was going to uncover my lie. I’m still a contractor because I was too nervous to draw HR’s attention, especially after I overheard them talking about someone else being fired for falsifying references.”

“You weren’t shifted to full time months ago?” She shook her head. “Jesus, Catherine. I put in the request to HR two months after you started working for me. You should be at full salary, full benefits. The contract salary is—”

Someone’s head was going to roll over this. I wasn’t happy with my request being disregarded. Lack of attention to detail was a fireable offense as far as I was concerned, and not following through with the CEO’s directive was a massive oversight.

“Pretty dismal.” She let out a shuddering laugh. “But didn’t you hear the part about the lies on my résumé?”

“I heard, and I was aware. If you think I’d have a background check done on you and not look into your references, you’re mistaken.”

She pulled back, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You knew the reference wasn’t real? Liam said he made a fake email address—”

I scoffed. “He’s an idiot. One search and it was obvious the company never existed. My interest was piqued though, so I reached out to the email address listed. The response—from Liam, I now know—was riddled with typos, and he claimed the business wasn’t searchable outside of Australia.”

Her brow puckered in confusion. “Why in the hell did you hire me if you knew?”

“Your other references were legitimate and glowing. I needed an assistant, and you were the best candidate, despite the fudging on your résumé.”

“That…doesn’t seem like you, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

It wasn’t like me. She had no earthly idea how unlike me it was, and it was better that way.

I cupped her shoulders. “I’m not pleased you accepted less than you should have, Catherine. You should have come to me about your salary.”

“I was scared, Elliot.”

“I understand that, and I’m going to make it right for you immediately. But I need you to know your worth. Don’t you understand how valuable you are to me?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m only an assistant.”

“No. I’ve had a lot of assistants. None have lasted longer than six months. They either quit or I fire them, and the reasons are numerous. But you have become my teammate, and I refuse to lose you. You’ll be paid what you’re worth, which should always be nonnegotiable.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. I may have stunned her silent, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore.

“Since we’re laying our cards on the table, what are your plans for the house?” I asked.

Her eyes darted to the side. “I want to sell it. I have to, but…”

“But you can’t afford the work it needs?”

“Right.”

“Would you live there if you could afford it?”

“Yes. I mean, the neighborhood is lovely, and it’s the perfect size for me and Joey, but it’s not going to happen. I have to sell it.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What? No, that’s too much.” Color rose to her cheeks again, but I sensed this time it was more due to indignation than embarrassment.

I squeezed her biceps. “Real estate is my arena, as you know. I’ll have one of my realtors do the work.”

“I really can’t ask you to do more for me than you already have.”

“Good. You didn’t ask, so don’t worry about it anymore. It’ll be taken care of.”

She stared up at me for a long time, brown eyes darting between mine. “I’m too tired to argue with you about this, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“There’s nothing to argue about. I have resources at my disposal, and I’m choosing to use them to help my assistant so she can do her job without worrying about anything else.”

One brow popped. “So this is purely for selfish reasons.”

I inclined my chin. “Of course it is. Why else would I help you?”

Her laugh was hollow, but it was far better than tears. My mother would have never pulled herself together so quickly. A breakdown like this would have taken her days or even weeks to recover from.

Another reminder Catherine wasn’t Elaine.

The situation wasn’t the same.

The outcome would be far, far different.