Page 5 of The Work Wife

She wanted to ask what the difference was, because she thought they seemed like the same thing to her. But she could tell by the way he spoke there was a definite distinction, and she didn’t want to give him more fuel for his very stupid fire.

“Whatever I am, I’m with Weston. We’re a team.”

With that she left his office, nodded to his assistant, and hurried to her own work area. Their assistant, Cindy, smiled tightly, having been able to see where she’d just come from. Jamie looked away from the woman, shame tickling up her spine until she realized she was being silly. She had done nothing wrong.

Except . . . she was thinking of how nice it would be to be handed the McCafferty job without so much as a hesitation. Damn it, she needed to get in on that trip. If she could just talk to them and get a feel for what they were looking for, she would be able to design something magnificent.

In their office, Wes was already hunched over a drawing, his brows pulled together. His dirty-blond hair needed cutting. She noticed it was starting to curl around his ears as she set his cup down.

“Thank you,” he said as he reached for the cup and took a sip. He made a face and held the cup away from him as if it had bugs in it. “It’s cold.”

For some reason she didn’t feel comfortable telling him what had happened with Duane. It didn’t make sense, nothing had happened, but still she kept it quiet.

“Yeah, well it’s cold outside. I’m sorry I didn’t carry your coffee between my legs to keep it hot.”

“What’s wrong?” He looked up at her with his brows pulled together.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee.”

“I know that. But you brought it yesterday, and I can’t let you one-up me.” She rubbed her forehead, hating that she felt unreasonable.

“Is something else bothering you?” As expected, he stood and came closer. He’d hugged her only once. Four years ago when she’d gotten the call that her father was cancer-free. It was a happy moment—one of the best in her life—but she’d cried, and couldn’t stop.

At the sight of her tears he’d thought the worst and offered up support without a thought. When she managed to get out the reason for her tears, he’d made a joke. “You mean I hugged you for no reason?”

Since then, anytime she was upset he always said, “I would hug you, but I already have one on credit.” He didn’t joke this time, and he didn’t hug her. He simply went back to his desk.

Her discussion with Duane was definitely not a cry-worthy event, yet she found herself wanting Wes to reassure her in some way. She was irrational. Why was she so upset? It was an offer. She should have been pleased to be considered. Instead she was restless.

She sipped her cold coffee and focused on her email. There was a new one from Duane.

I’m sorry if my offer upset you this morning. That obviously wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to make sure you knew you had other options. Many times people stay in a situation because they think it’s working for them, and don’t even consider other possibilities. I think we would be amazing together, and if you ever want to discuss it, I’m here.

“Shit.” She rubbed her forehead. This was why she was angry. Because she was thinking about her options now. It was nice to have someone else want her. And maybe Wes took for granted she would always be there. He didn’t even get excited by her designs anymore. He used words like good and nice. He didn’t seem to be as intent on getting to Team One as she was.

“You okay?” Wes asked.

“Yeah.” Why was she not telling him? “Do you have my drawing from the Newport building?”

“Yes. Did you need it?” He dug through a small pile and pulled it out.

“No.” Looking out the window at the gray clouds, she took a deep breath. She was being ridiculous. “What do you think of it?”

He held it out and considered it for a moment. “It’s nice.”

“Nice? That’s it? Why am I doing this if it is only nice?”

“You are aware nice is a good word, right?”

“It’s a good word, Weston. Not a great word.”

* * * *

Oh, hell. A glance at his calendar told him he wasn’t close enough to the X for it to be a menstrual thing. Jamie was rarely moody, but he always made sure to bring chocolate the week before the X.

He didn’t have any chocolate now, so he was on his own. There was something really wrong. He’d have to get her to talk to him. That thought sent a shiver down his spine.