Crash Page 16

  Opinion: Pardini family cover-up shows youth that drinking and driving is ok

  Is the law lenient on the rich?

  None of them seemed to care that William wasn’t in the driver’s seat. All that mattered was that he was rich. Ben mentioned the deadly crash during one of his interviews and the media ran with it, igniting a firestorm of vitriol and public outcry against the Pardini family.

  When I called him, his voice was quieter. It was as if they were slowly draining him of life. He was spiraling.

  “When can I see you?”

  Silence crackled on the other end of the line. Ten—fifteen seconds.

  “Will, are you still there?” A bit of anger crept into my voice, but I stamped it down.

  “Uh—what? Sorry.”

  “I said, when can I see you again?"

  “I don’t know,” he said blandly. “I have to go now.”

  I bit my lip hard so that he couldn’t hear the tears in my voice. “Okay. Bye.”

  Without so much as a farewell, William hung up and I stared at my empty phone as if it could tell me what was wrong with him.

  I couldn’t even think about how depressing my life had become. I still had no job, my parents would not stop calling, and it looked like I was going to lose Will. Every time he looked at me, he would be reminded about how my ex got him into this mess. It wasn’t my fault, but he would still resent me for it.

  I crumpled up the piece of paper I’d been using to sketch a design and hurled it across my too small bedroom. The final designs I had yet to finish glared at me through the computer screen.

  A soft knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.

  “Come in.”

  A sliver of Jessica’s slight figure appeared in the crack of the door. She gave me a wry smile. “Come here. Luke has something for you.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just come,” she said innocently.

  Whatever it was, Jessica looked like she was barely containing her excitement. I followed her into the kitchen where Luke stood, still dressed in his work clothes. He held a folder in his hands and was beaming at me.

  What could he possibly have for me? “What’s up?”

  “Natalie, everyone really loved the approach you took for the campaign.” Grinning ear to ear, he walked closer. “The creative director leading the bed and breakfast campaign wants to hire you as a full-time employee. Here’s the offer she wants to give you.”

  Stunned, I took the folder he handed me. Jessica let out a joyous shriek and tackled me.

  “You did it! You’re going to be working for Pardini Worldwide!”

  Luke chuckled. “Well, if she wants to.”

  I opened the folder and thumbed through the HR welcome packet, still not quite believing it. A surge of energy burst into my veins, followed by a sickening thought. “Did Will do this?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Ah, no. Like I said, our creative director emailed Will and said she wanted you. You’re supposed to get an email, but I thought I’d come in person. Will was supposed to, but he hasn’t been at work lately.”

  All the joy I felt at being offered a position at such a great company evaporated into thin air. Luke’s eyes hardened at the mention of his cousin.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s in a really bad way, Natalie. I think all of this negative press is bringing back a lot of memories from the accident.”

  My hand fell to my mouth as I realized the pain he must be going through alone. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and checked it for messages. Nothing.

  “Why hasn’t he called me?”

  His eyes wrinkled as he gave me a helpless shrug. “I don’t know.”

  He needs me. I dashed around the apartment, grabbing my keys, purse, and phone. Maybe he was too stubborn to ask for help. I glanced sadly at the packet Luke gave me.

  “Thanks a lot, Luke. I wish I didn’t have to leave but I think Will needs me—I’m really excited to start working for Pardini Worldwide.”

  He nodded seriously. “I’ll tell them. Carrie will contact you with the details.”

  * * *

  A group of paparazzi clustered around Will’s apartment, surrounding the stairs that led to his building.

  Vultures.

  They whirled around to snap photos of me as I walked up the steps. Recognizing me, they screamed my name and the strangeness of having people I’d never met know my name distracted me for a moment. I stopped in front of the door and hesitated. I wanted to see him—I always wanted to see him—but would he want to see me? Would he send me back home immediately?

  Knocking on the door, I flinched as if I expected him to be standing right behind it. Several long seconds passed. The back of my neck burned as the vultures continued to click away. I knocked again.

  Nothing.

  Groaning, I sent him a quick text: It’s me.

  At last, I heard the sounds of someone moving in his apartment. The door cracked open and an angry, dark eye glowered at me.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  I was hurt by the gruff tone of his voice. “I know. Luke said you weren’t doing well, and you haven’t been responding to my calls.”

  “Interfering jerk.”

  “MR. PARDINI! Do you have a statement?”

  He shuddered slightly at the sound of their voices. “Get in quickly.” He let the door open and squinted from the sunlight. I gasped as I took in his haphazard appearance. His face was pale and gaunt; he looked like he’d stayed up several days, but his eyes were listless. Dark.

  The door closed behind me, shutting out the noise of the crazed mob.

  “Heard about the job. Congrats,” he said with his back to me.

  “Thanks,” I said in a small voice, feeling a bit wounded at the indifference in his voice.

  Without so much as a friendly greeting, Will walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, where he watched the giant plasma television screen. A CNN host argued with a psychologist about whether rehabilitation worked for DUI drivers while a marquee near the bottom mentioned that Pardini stock had fallen several points. He pulled a laptop over his knees and his sunken eyes darted across the screen as he read an email.

  “Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time?” I asked, horrified.

  He shrugged slightly, looking defeated in his battered t-shirt and sweatpants. “What else is there to do? I can’t leave and it’s all I’ve been able to think about for days. I’m going to hold a press conference tomorrow.”

  I sank into the couch next to him, feeling increasingly hurt by his utter lack of warmth. This isn’t about you.

  “What? Did your publicist tell you to do that?”

  Having a dozen different media outlets fire questions at him seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

  He sipped from the stone cold mug of coffee. “I fired my publicist.”

  Shock rippled through my joints. I looked at Will’s sunken face, debating whether I should keep my thoughts to myself. “Will, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can barely talk about the accident without having panic attacks.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I can or can’t handle. I need to do this on my own.”

  The coldness in his voice made me think that he also included me. “Will, you don’t need to do this on your own. Let me help you.”

  I tried to close the laptop, but he jerked the screen away from me. A pang struck my heart as he looked at me, a frightening, almost angry look striking out at me.

  “Just leave me be.”

  My heart seized with pain. I knew that he was hurting, but I desperately wanted to help him. I felt responsible for the whole thing. My hand fell on his thigh. “Please don’t shut me out.”

  The laptop clattered as he set it down on the table. A strange, humorless smile filled his face and he laughed, shaking his head. My blood raced through when he suddenly gripped his head and pulled his hair. I couldn’t te
ll whether it was madness or exhaustion.

  “Will, you’re scaring me.”

  I touched his shoulder, but he moved away from me as if I repulsed him. I pulled my hands away from him, my face hot. What did I do? The dam I’d built to keep my depression at bay finally crumbled and Will saw the agony on my face.

  “I’m sorry, Natalie. I can’t deal with this. It’s too much.” He finally looked at me and I could see the stress breaking him down. He was like a shattered sculpture. Maybe he could be mended, but he would never be the same again. There was still no warmth in his voice. It was as if he blamed me. “There’s just nothing left in me, Natalie.”

  “Are you angry with me?” My eyes burned as I watched him carefully, his face looked prematurely lined with fatigue. There was no spirit in his body, none of that fevered energy that made him so exciting.

  “No, I don’t feel anything for you anymore.” He turned his head sideways and his eyes looked like dark tunnels.

  Something went through me as I looked at him: a silent howl. He’s breaking up with me. I shook my head, tears already spilling down. “But—Will—”

  “I’m sorry.” He hunched over his faded sweatpants. His grief was beyond tears, it seemed. “I can’t do this right now.”

  I don’t feel anything for you.

  Whatever we had in our brief time together was gone. He couldn’t handle a relationship with me or maybe he really didn’t have any feelings for me. It didn’t matter. It was over. I felt like I was bleeding to death.

  “I want you to know that the time I had with you was the best in my life. I wish I could have done more for you.”

  Will cringed against the sound of my shaking voice. “Just go.”

  He might as well have kicked me in the ribs. The air left my lungs and a sob shook through my throat. His head turned and he finally looked alive, his eyes were glazed over and he made a movement as though he meant to touch me, but I dodged out of reach.

  I shot up from the couch and ran from him like a child. I hoped that he would catch up to me and apologize—or beg me to stay, but I didn’t hear so much as a whimper. I shut the front door as bright flashes blinded my eyes. I threw my arms in front of my face.

  “Ms. Porter!”

  A dozen strangers elbowed each other to scream at me, demanding questions and offering me thousands of dollars to sell a story. A violent surge of hatred reared up inside me as I stared at their insistent faces.

  “Fuck off!”

  There were yells of anger as I stormed down the steps. My shoulder slammed against someone’s camera and his voice rose in outrage.

  Good, I thought. Maybe you’ll understand how pissed off I am right now.

  They followed me all the way to my car, still madly clicking away at me even though they had no idea that I had nothing to do with William Pardini anymore.

  For a moment, I saw myself yanking on the steering wheel to drive towards Oakland and running over Ben’s body. He’d deserve it.

  It was easier to cling onto my anger, because if I didn’t, I’d be forced to think about how I just lost William. There was also the sting of disappointing my parents, who would be extremely upset. My mother’s voice rang in my head.

  First Ben, now William. You really go through them, don’t you?

  After this, they would lose all hope for me.

  I turned the key to my apartment and walked over the ugly carpet. Having no desire to be interrogated by Jessica, I headed straight for my bedroom. I saw a brief image of Luke and Jessica sitting at the kitchen table, standing up when they saw me. A bottle of champagne sat on the table.

  “Natalie! We wanted to celebrate—where are you going?”

  Oh, God no. Not now.

  Jessica took one look at my flushed face. “What happened?”

  My eyes darted to Luke, who still had the vestiges of a smile on his face. He fingered a bottle opener anxiously.

  “We broke up,” I said in a hoarse voice.

  My best friend gasped and looked at Luke. “Why?”

  I shrugged as if it was a minor inconvenience. “He couldn’t handle it.”

  Luke’s eyes were sympathetic and I felt a sudden rush of anger for him, too. Stop looking at me like I’m a beaten dog.

  “He’s under a lot of stress,” he said carefully. “It’s probably the best thing for now—”

  “How the hell would you know?” I snapped.

  “Natalie!”

  “No!” I looked at both of them, seizing upon something—anything that would make me feel better. “You never even liked him! He dropped everything in Italy and flew to Chicago just to help you.”

  “I know,” he said quickly. “I never said I didn’t appreciate it. I’m really sorry, Natalie.”

  It wasn’t enough. Will was gone from me and it was all Ben’s fault, but Ben wasn’t here for me to get angry with. Even if I wanted to sue him, how would I ever afford the lawyer fees? How could I prove he’d done anything? Ben was going to get off scot-free and my life—Will’s life was in shambles.

  Their sad faces watched me anxiously; in their heads they were making excuses for my rude behavior. I didn’t want excuses. I wanted to fight someone.

  The dirty apartment only added fuel to my anger. There were crumbs on the floor and I knew she hadn’t vacuumed while I was gone. I looked at her round, blonde face and felt a stab of anger. “Couldn’t you have cleaned while I was gone?”

  I left Jessica as she stammered a reply and entered my room, slamming the door shut. I buried myself under the covers of my soft bed and tried to close my eyes, but a vicious cycle of images passed through my head like a slideshow: the nude pictures, Ben, William in handcuffs, him breaking up with me, the paparazzi outside his apartment, and Jessica and Luke waiting for me in the kitchen with a bottle of champagne.

  As I thought of them, I felt a fresh wave of remorse and shame. They had done nothing but support me. Luke posted bail for William and they planned to celebrate my new job with me, but how could I celebrate when William was suffering?

  We bonded so much on the trip. It was the best time of my life, but reflecting on it now was like remembering someone who died. I bundled the thick comforter near my face and grimaced against the sadness thickening my throat. He did so much for me. He got me this job, he made me feel better about myself, and he helped me confront Ben.

  I thought hard about what I had done for him in return, but couldn’t come up with anything. All I did was ruin his life. No wonder he broke up with me.

  I wanted to help him, a desperate voice inside me insisted. Maybe I should have tried harder.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning with my eyes swollen shut with dried tears. I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone, hoping for a text from Will or a missed call—nothing. He really is done with me.

  I hurled the phone to the carpeted floor, which absorbed the force of my throw harmlessly. A swell of rage burst through my limbs and I wanted to smash the phone with my feet. Ben was the one who deserved this. I took it and threw it across the room with a small scream but I only felt disappointment when it struck the wall, leaving a small dent in the plaster.

  Jessica was in the kitchen when I emerged from my bedroom. Her delicate wisps of hair were caught into a severe ponytail and she looked at me and flinched, as if she expected me to throw her across the room, too. I couldn’t help but notice the spotless floor.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said baldly.

  She nodded. “It’s fine. You’re pissed. I would be too.”

  “I need to apologize to Luke, too. He’s been nothing but helpful to me.” I sank down at one of the metal chairs surrounding the kitchen table and heaved a great sigh. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on.”

  “For starters, you could press charges against Ben.”

  I snorted. “With what evidence? And money? The fucking bastard won. He got what he wanted, he drove us apart.”

  It should have been easy to mo
ve on from a three-week relationship, but I grew way too attached to him during those weeks and there was the fact that I never been happier in my life. I never felt so completely satisfied with someone. Still, I tried to seize upon the advice that I always gave to other people.

  Oh well, you’ll find someone else. There are plenty of other fish in the sea.

  Only there weren’t any that interested me. I had done nothing wrong. It ended because of Ben.

  No, it ended because of Will. He doesn’t want you.

  “Maybe you should go back to his apartment,” she suggested.

  I shook my head. “No, that’s pathetic. If he doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want me. Begging won’t help my cause.”

  “I’m not talking about begging. I’m talking about just being there for him, even if you’re not in a relationship.”

  “I don’t know.” I grabbed my laptop from my room and collapsed onto the couch, reading my work emails, which largely consisted an introduction from HR. I turned on the TV for a distraction.

  Bury yourself in work. Don’t think about it.

  The only reason I had this job was because of Will.

  Jessica sat at the table. Every so often, she would give me an unhappy look as if my misery infected her.

  I half-listened to the TV as I drafted a profanity-laden email to Ben that I probably wouldn’t send. There was something about an exclusive report and I almost wanted to change the channel. I’m so sick of the news.

  “Natalie!” Jessica gasped.

  A familiar voice spoke from the TV and I lifted my head from the laptop, bewildered. William stood in front of his apartment dressed in a suit. He looked—

  “Oh my God. He looks terrible!” Jessica clapped her hands in front of her mouth and her face went red. “Sorry.”

  He hadn’t shaved for at least five days and his face was skull-like. Bloodshot eyes looked directly into the camera without blinking.

  “He looks like he’s going to throw up or collapse.”

  “Shh!” I hissed.

  “Several years ago I was involved in a fatal DUI accident. My friend, Daniel Martinez, was driving my car.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Three people were killed: Julian Metsky, Michelle Ramos, and James Ramos. I think of them every day. Words cannot express how much I regret my actions that night and if I could give up my life to return the victims back to their families, I would do it in a heartbeat.