A/N: See, I promised it wouldn't be too long before the next update! Here it is :)
I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around when I hear her sigh. After a few moments of awkward silence, she eventually says, "I'm sorry. I was rude, and I have no right to be."
I take the few steps back toward her until I'm standing in my previous position facing her. "You're right, you don't," I confirm, my own irritation not being masked in my tone.
She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just looks at her beer bottle and peels at the corner of the label. "You can sit down, if you want," she says, moving over just slightly on the log. There's plenty of room for two more people to sit on it, so she didn't really need to move at all. But, I find myself appreciating her intention, despite the fact that it sounded like it physically hurt her to say those words.
I nod as I take another step to sit down next to her, leaving plenty of space between us as I do. I take a large gulp of the beer still in my hands, knowing that I'll need it to help get through whatever confrontation is about to go down.
Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. Instead, we drink in silence and stare into the fire, which is still going strong. Now that the sun has completely set, the temperature has dropped another 15 degrees or so and a slight breeze is coming off the lake. The warmth of the fire is alluring, and if this whole situation wasn't so fucked up I would really be enjoying it. It's mesmerizing.
"I didn't want to fire you, you know," she eventually says, causing me to look over at her in disbelief. I'm surprised to find that she's looking at me, rather than down at the beer that she's been finding so interesting for the past ten minutes.
"What?" I manage to ask when I finally find my words.
She shrugs and looks back into the fire, taking a sip of her beer before she continues. "I never wanted to fire you. I actually liked you more than most of the other people on my team. You weren't kissing my ass all the time, and even though I know you hated the work, you did it well and didn't complain. But, the order came from Gold. Our office had to let two sales staff go, and as you were the most junior staffer with the least total number of sales, I had no choice. Despite Jefferson's insistence that I'm the 'Evil Queen'," she says, rolling her eyes at his nickname for her, "I really hate firing people. It's the worst part of my job."
I take in what she just said, not sure whether I'm more surprised by her revelation that she actually liked having me work for her, or that she seems to genuinely feel badly about firing me. "I have to admit, I find that a little hard to believe," I say softly, almost hoping she doesn't hear it.
"Why? You think I'm that much of a cold-hearted bitch?" she asks. She's clearly offended, but perhaps there's a hint of amusement in her voice.
I take a deep breath before I speak, hoping that what I say won't derail our conversation. "No, I don't think you're a cold-hearted bitch…" I start, but I lose my nerve partway through and stop mid-sentence.
She interrupts me anyway. "So, just a regular bitch, then?" This time there's definitely some amusement in her voice.
I chuckle. "Yeah. You certainly have your moments. But, I've also seen you be supportive of your staff. I think people just overlook those brief positive moments and focus on the negatives."
She nods, understanding my point. "I'm guessing you did, too."
"It's hard not to. I was completely blindsided when you fired me, and it seemed like it was just another everyday conversation to you — something on your task list for the day that you could check off. It made me immediately forget all the nice things you had done for me over the course of my year working there, and instead that was the only thing that mattered," I answer honestly. "It was like you were on autopilot and didn't give a shit that you literally fucked up my life in the matter of five minutes."
I chance a glance over to her and she has the good sense to look ashamed. "I know I didn't handle it well. I don't like having to answer to Gold and let him dictate my personnel decisions," she says. "That day, when you and Ruby saw me in the restaurant with Daniel and Gold and two of his assistants, that was his way of ensuring that Daniel and I would follow through on his orders. Daniel had to fire someone that day as well. It sucked for both of us, because neither of us wanted to, especially because the two other junior staffers who could have been let go instead were on Arthur's team. Those two girls suck at their job and are generally horrible human beings, but they are incredibly skilled at flirting their way to sales…so, despite Daniel and I arguing to try to keep you and Tiana and fire the other two instead, Gold insisted. And if we didn't follow through, then Daniel and I would be fired, or at least demoted."
"Wow," I reply. I knew there were politics at Enchanted Education, but I never realized Gold was running that tight of a ship from his cushy office in San Francisco.
"Yeah…and I'm sorry if I came across as cold and callous when I did it. It's the only way I can get through it without completely breaking down. I made it about two or three minutes after you left my office before the stress got to me and I lost it," she says, completely shocking me. She continues before I'm able to respond. "But, maybe it's a blessing in disguise…this isn't what you wanted to do anyway, Emma. In your performance review when I asked you where you saw yourself in five years, I could tell you didn't really want to be there. I remember your resume and your writing samples – you're not meant to suck up to college professors to try to get them to buy a newer edition of a textbook for their class. You should be doing more. I saw you on the flight to San Diego, you know, working on your writing…that's what you should be doing, not working as a textbook sales girl."
Well, that's not what I was expecting to hear from her. I didn't think that she even knew I wanted to be a writer. Aside from the formulaic questions on the interview sheet, she barely said two words to me during my interview for that position. I certainly didn't think that she even read my writing samples, especially because those weren't required for sales associates. I had only submitted them in hopes that they may consider me for an editor position, even though there weren't any vacancies posted.
"What brings you up here, anyway?" Regina asks, giving me an out, and I'm happy to take it. I'm not sure how to respond to everything she just said, but this I can answer.
"There wasn't anything in Chicago for me anymore, and I wasn't having much luck on the job front, so I figured I'd come up here for a few months, unplug, and really work on my writing. If I couldn't get a novel done in this amount of time, then I would give up, go back, and try to find a regular job. But I owed it to myself to really give it a chance," I say, surprised at how truthful I'm being with her.
Regina smiles sadly as she looks at me. "That's really admirable, Emma. It's like you're Thoreau."
I chuckle. "I wouldn't go that far, but that was kind of the idea. Seclusion, no distractions, getting back to basics."
"Well, I'm sorry I ruined that for you by showing up here."
"It's fine," I shrug. "I usually take one day a week to meet whoever else is here. I can't write 24/7 or I'll burn myself out. A little break here and there is a good thing."
"And how's it going? Making progress?"
"Yeah, actually. It's been more helpful than I anticipated. I have two-thirds of a draft done, and the rest is completely outlined."
"That's wonderful, Emma. I'm really happy to hear that," she says, and I can't help but think, of course you are, because if I'm doing well it assuages your guilt for firing me. I know she didn't have a choice, and she does seem sincerely apologetic about it, but I still can't help but have some residual bitterness. It'll take me some time to move past it. "What's your book about?" she asks.
"It's a dark, modern retelling of Snow White," I tell her. I don't need to mention that I'm loosely using her as a reference for the story's villain. There's a reason Jefferson gave her that nickname in the office.
"That sounds really intriguing. I've always been a fan of fairytales — the original Grimm versions, not the happy Disneyfied versions," she says.
"Me, too."
"So how long have you been up here?" she asks, and I'm a little thrown off by how genuinely interested she seems to be.
"A little over two months. I have about three weeks left, though Mary-Margaret is trying to convince me to stay longer."
"I bet. It's probably good for business to have all the guests keep extending their stay," she laughs for the first time since we've been talking, and it's nice to hear her be a little less serious. "How did you even find out about this place?"
"Mary-Margaret is actually a friend of mine from college. She was my pledge mom in our sorority," I say.
Regina nearly spits out her beer. "You were in a sorority?"
"Yes…why, is that really that hard to believe?"
"Kind of…you just don't strike me as the 'I want to live in a house with 30 other girls and braid our hair and talk about boys and be sisters for life' types. Mary-Margaret does, absolutely, but you don't," she explains.
"I didn't think so either, but my roommate convinced me to rush and then the next thing I know I'm standing with 24 other girls at the pledge ceremony. It was fun, though. I wasn't as involved as Mary-Margaret, but I enjoyed my experience," I say. "What about you?"
"Was I in a sorority?" she asks with a raised brow.
"Well, no, but sure, that, too. I meant how did you find out about this place? It's still relatively new, and I didn't think it would really be something that you would hear about in your social circle…I figured you guys were more into beach houses and Cape Cod than roughing it in the backwoods of Wisconsin."
Regina cringes for a second, but quickly recovers. "Actually, David's cousin Kathryn is a good friend of mine from grad school. She told me about this place when I said I was looking for somewhere to take the boys for the long weekend. And then when they couldn't come, she encouraged me to come anyway. She thought I could use the escape…clear my head," Regina says, sighing and returning to her earlier somber mood, peeling the label from her bottle of beer.
I sense there's more, so I toe the line. I'm cautious, but I want to know. "Escape from what?"
"The city, the chaos," she says before letting out a wry chuckle, "my life."
I frown at that. I know I'm out of the loop since I haven't been reading the news, but when I left two months ago things looked pretty great for Regina — she and Robin were still gracing the cover of the society pages, and Ruby had told me that a few days after I was fired, Regina got a promotion from her position as Vice President of our division to Senior Vice President. I'm sure that came with a nice increase in salary, and the raise they gave her was probably more than I was making in a year as a sales rep.
"My marriage is over," she continues, not looking up from the bottle in her hands.
"What?" I ask reflexively, barely even registering what she had just said, since my brain is still trying to figure out if by firing me, Gold basically redirected my salary to her.
"You were right, that night at the conference in San Diego, when you told me I was being stupid and you 'called me on my bullshit,' to use your words. I should have left him before he had the chance to leave me."
I'm still baffled. "So Robin and that college student in the photo…?"
"No, I was wrong about that. It wasn't Ivy, thank God. It was his campaign manager, Marian. But that just means it's been going on for far longer than I ever thought…and how cliché can you possibly get? The politician fooling around with his campaign manager? Ugh. It's only one step above him cheating with his secretary or the intern. It's like a bad Lifetime movie…so, take note for your future novels."
"Wow," I say, not really sure what more to add in this situation. "That sucks, I'm sorry."
"I mean, I should have seen it sooner. We hadn't slept together in over two years, and he gave up initiating sex a year before that."
Holy shit, two, almost three years, I think, but at least my brain filters that to "damn," when I speak out loud.
"Yeah," she continues. "I thought it was some midlife crisis thing, maybe he couldn't get it up, but no. He just wasn't attracted to me anymore," she says looking down at her left hand. It's then that I realize the giant diamond is gone, and I'm surprised I didn't notice that sooner. She used to flash that thing around, nearly blinding us as the fluorescent office lights bounced off of it. She still has the understated silver band on her finger, which I'm guessing she can't bring herself to remove just yet, but the overly flashy outward signal of her relationship with Robin is no longer there.
"Regina, he's an idiot. You're gorgeous. Anyone who isn't attracted to you is blind."
Even though the sun has long since set, I can still see Regina blush. She sits up straight as she clears her throat. "It's getting late. I should probably stop drinking and go to bed, since I came out here to relax and recharge and all that. I don't want to spend my first morning hungover."
"I don't blame you," I say, standing up and wiping my hands on my jeans before extending a hand toward Regina to help her up. When she accepts my assistance and puts her hand in mine, I feel a spark, but whether it's metaphorical or just static electricity, I can't be sure. "Do you know your way back to your cabin?" I ask, looking around us as I drop her hand now that she's standing. The bonfire is almost out, and only David and Mary-Margaret remain, cuddled together under a flannel blanket. All the other guests have retreated to the safety of their cabins for the night.
Regina hesitates. "I think so."
"Come on, I'll walk you," I say as I roll my eyes, turning to throw my empty bottle in the recycling bin. I wave goodnight to Mary-Margaret and David and then gesture for Regina to follow me back toward the trail.
"I can find my way back, Miss Swan," Regina grumbles as she picks up her lone overnight bag from the ground and throws it over her shoulder.
"Emma," I correct her.
She rolls her eyes. "I can find my way back, Emma."
"I'm sure you can, but the last thing the Nolans need is for one of their guests to get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear, so you're stuck with my accompaniment."
"Are there really bears out here?" she asks, her eyes widening in alarm.
I shrug. "I have no idea…probably not. There are definitely coyotes, though."
"Huh," is all she says as she walks behind me, careful of her footing as we make our way along the wooded trail.
Her cabin is the halfway point between Mary-Margaret's house and my own cabin, so it only takes us five minutes or so at a leisurely pace to arrive. "Here you are," I say as we walk up to the front door. Regina sets her bag down unceremoniously on the porch as she digs the keys out of her pocket. "Goodnight, Regina," I say when I see her put the key in the doorknob. "I hope you enjoy your weekend here and find the clarity you're looking for."
"Thank you, Emma," she says sincerely, reaching out and taking my right hand that is hanging by my side, lightly squeezing it in gratitude. She hesitates for a moment, and then she leans in to kiss my cheek. "Goodnight. Don't get eaten by a coyote on your walk back to your cabin."
"I'll try my best," I manage to say, confused by what just happened. Before I can say anything else, the brunette has unlocked her door and stepped inside, sending me a small smile before she closes the door behind her.
A/N: I'm being nice and not leaving it on a cliffhanger this time. But, I have to admit I kind of enjoy all the squirmy reviews I got in response to the last few cliffhangers, so I may have to incorporate more in the remaining chapters of this fic ;)