I looked across the restaurant, watching Kate glance around as she came in. I had arrived a few minutes early and the maitre d' had already seated me in a booth near the back. It's comfortable there, a little apart from the tables. A good place to talk. Kate had called yesterday to ask if I could meet her for lunch. I picked a quiet, upscale place I frequent. It is quiet and secluded, but relatively easy to find.
Kate and I had worked for the same company. Actually, I had worked for her. At the time, I was the head of R&D for her father's company. She was, and is, the chief operating officer. And we'd been lovers. One morning she had stormed into my office in a rage, firing me on the spot. At the time I had no idea why. She didn't have the authority to fire me, but that was only a technicality.
It turned out that one of my assistants, her cousin, wanted my job. She had been whispering in Kate's ear that the program I had developed as part of a new control panel wouldn't the way I said it would, that I was sabotaging it just as it was almost ready for beta testing, and, oh yeah, by the way, I was playing around behind Kate's back — she had seen me hugging some woman at a restaurant. Later I realized she had seen me with Jan, a friend since childhood. Apparently that's what set Kate off.
She wouldn't listen when I tried to calm her down and get a coherent explanation of what was going on, so I packed the personal items from my office and left. For several days, I called her twice a day, but she wouldn't take my calls and didn't call back. After a week I gave up. I packed up everything she had at my place and asked a mutual friend to return them with the key to Kate's place, and to collect the few things I had at Kate's place. Being slightly paranoid, I changed my locks.
Technically, my contract required that the company had to have cause to terminate me, give me written notice of the cause, and allow me the opportunity to present my side of the dispute to the board of directors. Of course, Kate, her father, her brother, the company's chief financial officer, and its accountant were the board of directors. Like I said, a technicality. I didn't bother.
I had the impression that when personnel finally found out what had happened, the wind blew and feces was airborne. I got calls from Kate's father, then from the Company's attorney, and, eventually, from Kate, all leaving messages on my box, apologizing for the 'misunderstanding,' and asking me to come back. I didn't return any of the calls. I know - childish. But I didn't see any reason to call. I wouldn't be going back.
About that time, someone remembered that, before I joined the company, I had developed the programs that formed the core of 3 of its best-selling products and I owned those patents. They also realized I had a very good lawyer. Although the company could still use the programs, paying only a very small royalty, the license was exclusive only while I was an employee and I did not have to offer the company any improvements or upgrades I made if I was no longer an employee. Oops.
My attorney handled the wrongful termination settlement. The severance package was a lot more generous than my contract required. I guess they decided that if they were going to have to spend the money on lawyers, and still lose the lawsuit, it was easier and less expensive in the long run just to give me a large chunk of it directly. And I kept the software. That was a little over a year ago.
Until she called me to ask if I would have lunch with her, Kate and I hadn't spoken since the day she fired me.
She still looked great. Pretty. Dark brown hair a little shorter than it had been, shapely, 5' 6", great legs. The maitre d' led her to my booth. I stood up as they approached and Kate gave me a hug as she kissed my cheek. She still felt good — soft yet firm. Smelled good, too. It was as exciting as hugging my great-aunt.
I asked the waiter to bring us a wine I thought Kate would like. We ordered lunch and chatted about inconsequential things as we ate. When the dishes had been cleared, I poured Kate another glass of wine then sat back and looked at her, waiting.
She looked around as she took a deep breath. Just then, the restaurant door opened. I turned to look. Kate's head turned, following my gaze. A gorgeous blond walked in. Head turning beautiful. Hair the color of dark honey fell loosely to just past her shoulders. Tall, with long legs. Slender but not thin. She looked and moved like a well-toned athlete. The maitre d' obviously knew her as she leaned close to speak to him. He said something in return, pointing to his seating chart, then smiled and turned slightly so she could get past.
We both watched the blond move through the restaurant. Passing the tables, she stopped briefly at some of them, exchanging a few words with the other diners, then sat down at one of the tables with two other women. Reluctantly, I turned back to Kate.
Kate turned back to me as she took another deep breath
"We really want you to come back," she said.
Then, looking me in the eye for the first time, "I really want you back. I'm so sorry. I was stupid. Angry and stupid. I should have let you explain . . . ."
Her voice trailed off, as she looked at me. Expectantly? Maybe. I wasn't sure.
"Explain what?" I asked when she didn't continue. "Whatever 'it' really was, I didn't do it. Certainly not the cra . . . reasons I was given."
"I know," she replied in a small voice. "Now. But not then."
"If you'd talked to me, you would have. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. Maybe you didn't want to listen. Maybe you did, but couldn't get past it. Maybe you wanted it to be my fault for some reason. Probably not, but it doesn't matter, Kate. Either way, it got us to the same place. You blew up, fired me, and wouldn't answer my calls. I finally lost interest."
"I know," she replied again, even more softly this time. "I'm so sorry."
I looked at her for a moment, considering what she had said and what she had implied. It didn't change anything. I'd never expected it to.
"It's been in the past for a while now," I said.
"I want to change that," she said, "if you'll give us a chance. We . . . I want to make it up to you."
"Kate," I said, "I'm not trying to make things hard for you. I'm not trying to make you grovel and beg so I can feel like I won."
"I know," she replied. "You wouldn't do that. Even after the way I treated you."
"I got over the mad and the hurt a while ago. I still feel some . . . affection? . . . for you. I have pleasant memories of how we were. It's just that I've moved on. I have other interests now."