Page 91 of Not Mine to Rescue

“No.”

Something shifted in Jim’s demeanor. “What do you mean, no?”

“Exactly what I said.” There was no emotion in my tone. It didn’t even cross my mind that I should have any about this. Why? It was as if there was an expiration date hanging out there.

Would it happen three weeks when my period came? Seven? Two months? Five?

Something deep inside me wobbled. The seismic cataclysm had begun. This was simply a warning rumble. I pushed it down.

“You don’t do affairs.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

Jim shifted in his chair. The tells were flying. He was uncomfortable, shaken, maybe even a little hurt. “Did I do that to you?”

“You didn’t—” I cut myself off. He had. But I’d also done it to myself. “It’s called growth.”

He frowned. “Growth is positive, not destructive.”

“Funny, my therapist doesn’t feel the same way. She’s applauding this.”

His expression darkened. “I don’t believe you.”

And there was the rub, wasn’t it? He’d spent so much time not paying attention to me that I’d moved past the point where we were in sync. “It is a good thing we aren’t married anymore then, isn’t it?”

His mouth hung open. The quiet devastation on his face was plain. I waited, maybe not patiently, but with a keen understanding that eventually, he’d grab onto something selfish and bludgeon me with it. And I was prepared for anything.

“Well, I hope it’s good fucking.”

There it was.

I smiled, knowing he’d exposed his Achilles Heel. But I remained mute. There was no need to say anything. The cat in cream expression on my serene face would be enough to dig silent barbs into his pride.

He gathered up his folders and exited my office.

Hopefully, he was a changed man.

But I doubted it.

Two hours later, Stephen knocked on my door. “May I come in?”

I was journaling. I set my pen down and motioned to the chair. I stood and settled on the small couch so we’d be at equal elevations. “How can I amuse you?”

He grinned. “I think you already have. Jim visited my office.”

“Let me guess, he had to tell you his observations of my affair.”

My boss snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. He wants you off the account.”

“And, what do you want?”

There was a deep moment of introspection. “I really want my team to put aside their war.”

Damn. I was guilty there. “I didn’t fire the opening salvo today.”

He tipped his head, acknowledging that. “But I think you sank him this time.”

Good. However, it wouldn’t mean the end of the battle. This was too personal for Jim. “What can I do to make it up?”