by Dena Blake
“When is the last time you actually talked to any of the employees? Actually had lunch in the canteen? When did you turn into such a heartless bitch?”
She bolted from her chair and clenched the edge of her desk. “You’re treading on thin ice, Evelyn.”
“Am I?” Evelyn stepped closer. “Then drop the fucking pick and crack the ice. Get rid of me. I dare you.”
“That’s always a possibility.” She stood firm. “If you want to go down this road farther, I will.”
Evelyn dropped her hands from her hips and looped her arms tightly across her chest. “Got it.” She glared for a moment before she dropped her arms, spun, and headed to the door. “I’ll be in my office trying to figure out how we’re going to run this place without the resources you just fired. So much knowledge is out the door.”
The company had taken too many risks, put money into new technology that hadn’t paid off. Contractors and temporary employees had already been reduced to the minimum. Return on investment was down, and the company stock had taken a dip. They’d had no other choice but to cut the workforce. They hadn’t eliminated a huge number. Considering that the company employed close to forty thousand full-time employees, cutting three percent was a small amount overall. They would get two months’ severance, and benefits would continue for six additional months following. After all, she wasn’t heartless. Among all that, Wynn had fought mercilessly to keep Evelyn’s job from being cut, which she would never tell her.
She picked up her pen and jotted herself a note on the pad in front of her.
Visit canteen for lunch next week.
It would be an attempt at normalcy that she would probably never achieve. Once the company had gone public, they’d decided to make all the food in the canteen free, for full bellies promoted better productivity. It was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, but after today’s staff reduction it seemed frivolous.
She glanced at the time on her laptop. Twelve o’clock, long enough for the terminated employees to have been escorted from the building. She wrapped up one last email, gathered her things, and headed to the elevator. She would get some support from Jordan, her older sister, who’d called earlier in the week and scheduled her for a late lunch. She hadn’t expected the invitation, since Jordan seemed to work twenty-four-seven.
Wynn’s mother was babysitting the children of Wynn’s oldest sister, Suzanna, and her husband James, who were enjoying a weekend away. Hoping their company would get her mind off this morning’s activities, she’d planned to go there later to spend some time with them. Wynn had always intended to have kids in her future, but work had been her sole priority recently, and the idea seemed to have completely dropped off her radar lately.
The only thing brightening her day was knowing she’d be seeing her niece and nephew this afternoon. That wasn’t entirely true. She’d also thought that Carly, Jordan’s wife, might show up later this evening. She usually had mixed feelings about seeing Carly, who had been with Jordan about a year. But after the morning she’d had today, she was looking forward to seeing her. Maybe Carly could help her make sense of the remorseful feelings bubbling inside. Her chest tightened. Or maybe Carly would be disappointed in her for what she’d done.
Chapter Two
This day was dragging on longer than Carly had expected. She’d wanted to cancel all the remaining appointments on her calendar and go straight to her in-laws’ home to swim with the kids, but that wasn’t possible today. Her last session this afternoon was with a couple, Sara and Mike, who’d been teetering on divorce. She’d talked them off of the ledge once before but now wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it again.
As she glanced from Sara, then to Mike, and back to Sara again, all the signs that they were moving on were there. Minimal to no eye contact, obvious untruths, and arguments that were growing more hurtful by the day. None of that even included the so-called friends they’d each acquired over the past few months.
Her thoughts wandered to Jordan and the conversations they’d had recently about the same subject. Jordan had proposed an open marriage, and Carly didn’t know which had hit her first—impacted her the most—the shock or the pain. Would that arrangement help improve the mediocre life she’d been living with Jordan or just complicate it more? She didn’t know what she was thinking. An open marriage was impossible for her to even consider in her profession. Her colleagues would crucify her. She was at a loss. Her life with Jordan had changed so much over the past months, she barely recognized whatever they had now as the relationship she’d once enjoyed with her, the one they’d begun together just a little over a year ago. The intimacy had disappeared slowly after their honeymoon, and she wasn’t just talking sex. That was lacking too, but mostly she missed the conversations, the embraces, the small gestures people make when they love someone. She especially missed the ones that let her know she was loved in return. They’d both stopped doing any of that several months ago. Clearly she’d rushed into this marriage too quickly.
“She’s more than just a friend, and you know it.” Sara’s raised voice brought Carly out of her thoughts.
“No more of a friend than he is.”
They both stopped talking. Carly had been reading body language long enough to see that both of them had fallen out of love with each other, and each of them had most likely fallen into love with someone else. New lovers masked as friends were easy to spot in decaying relationships. The fact that they sat at opposite ends of the couch only cemented that observation further.
They’d married right out of college, loved all the same activities, same kinds of food. It seemed to be a match made to go the distance. But their sexual compatibility lay at opposite ends of the spectrum. She was good with once a week, and he wanted sex all the time. She wanted romance and he wanted release. Carly had been trying to get them to meet somewhere in the middle for close to six months, and while they both had seemed to compromise at first, they appeared to be right back where they’d started. They didn’t have any children, so they really had nothing to keep them together except their love for each other and the will to make their marriage work.
Mike looked at his hands and then up at Carly. “I moved into my own place last month.”
She raised her eyebrows. This was news to her. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were at the point of separating.”
“I wasn’t. We had an argument, and it just happened.”
Sara jumped in. “One minute we were arguing, and the next we were having sex like it was our last moment on earth together.”
“After that, I packed a bag and left. Rented an apartment and went back and got my stuff the next week.”
She observed Sara’s reaction. She didn’t seem upset or even confused. “And how did you feel about that?” Carly asked, still wondering about her own marriage. Would she be upset if Jordan moved out completely?
“Honestly, I was relieved about not having to worry about the next argument we’d have.” It wasn’t uncommon that being concerned about future events would impact a couple’s actions.
She looked from Mike to Sara and then to Mike again. “Why didn’t you come in or call me?”
“Because I thought you’d try to convince me to stay.” Mike didn’t lose eye contact. He was probably right. She would’ve pointed out all the good in their marriage.
Sara glanced at Mike. “And everything between us has been great since then,” she said softly. “We talk almost every day.”
He touched Sara’s knee. “It feels like I have my best friend back.”
Sara clasped his hand and smiled widely. “I know. It’s like the dead weight on my chest is gone, and I can breathe again. All the anger has gone away.”
“Exactly,” he said. “You’ll always be my best friend.”
“And you’ll be mine.” Sara dropped her head against his shoulder. They’d been high school sweethearts as well. Kids growing up together didn’t always make for good couples as adults. Couples who met as adult
s usually had a mutual respect for each other that wasn’t always present in those who met in younger years.
Carly’s attempts to set them on a better track to keep them together seemed to have failed. Maybe some people are better off as friends. “Well, it appears you’ve found the best solution for the both of you.” She smiled, concealing her disappointment. “Do you think you’ll be able to withstand new relationships with others when they develop?” She’d also warned them in the past about the difficulties of finding someone new, but they seemed to have both accomplished that feat already.
They nodded, and Mike said, “It’ll take some time before we can actually double-date.” They both laughed. “But yes. I’m glad she’s found someone who makes her happy. I never wanted to be the source of her unhappiness, and that’s what seemed to be happening more and more over this past year.”
“Well, okay, then. I guess we don’t need to continue counseling, unless you want to come in separately.”
Mike stood. “I think we’re good.”
Sara, on the other hand, only nodded as she stood, making Carly think that maybe she wasn’t as sure of this resolution as Mike was.
She waited for Mike to turn to the door before she made eye contact with Sara. “You have my number if you want to call or schedule an appointment.”
Sara nodded again and followed Mike out of the office. Something pulled in Carly’s heart. It was always difficult when a couple made a final decision and left her care, especially when they took a different road than she’d seen coming. She flopped into the chair, took a swig of Coke Zero, and spun around to gaze at the Palace of Fine Arts. She’d purposely chosen a brownstone in the Marina District because of the gorgeous view. She wanted a serene space that made her clients feel relaxed and comfortable. It also helped her decompress between sessions. She tried to detach from her clients, but sometimes that was difficult. She’d scraped and saved for years to be able to afford the lease on her office, but it was well worth the cost to keep her peace of mind on a daily basis. It didn’t hurt that her grandparents owned the building, and she was renting the place for a fraction of the cost. In fact, they owned multiple properties in the city, including this one and the building where she lived in Nob Hill. Her grandparents had told her that when the tenant upstairs moved, she could take over the whole space so she would only have to travel downstairs for work.
Did every couple have to reconcile? Were they better off apart? Would she and Jordan be better off apart? She shook her head. She doubted they could remain friends, and she loved Jordan’s family too much to let them go. Jordan’s sister Suzanna had been her best friend since college. Not being able to confide in her would put a huge hole in the center of Carly’s life. Not seeing her niece and nephew—her godchildren—would absolutely kill her. She loved those kids like they were her own.
Maybe it would be better for her and Jordan to just be friends again. It wasn’t like they spent all that much time together anymore. They’d been on different schedules for a while now. Sex between them was practically nonexistent, and when they did make love, it wasn’t all that special. Jordan was always preoccupied, and it seemed rushed, like more of a duty than the feeling of intimacy she craved.
She thought about a recent discovery she’d found while visiting Jordan at her office. Her assistant had innocently said something about how expensive it must be to keep two townhouses in the city. After a year of marriage, Jordan was still maintaining her own place. Jordan had explained the circumstances away perfectly, said it hadn’t sold, so she’d planned to sublet it, which still hadn’t happened. Carly clearly remembered Jordan telling her it had been sold early on in their marriage. She’d lied about it for no reason. What did that mean? Was someone else living there? Someone Jordan was seeing? Was Jordan just holding on to the place in case their marriage didn’t work, or was she actually planning to end it someday?
The big D word popped into her head. Carly had always been such a proponent of reconciliation. How would she explain that outcome to her colleagues and her patients? How would she even convince herself it was okay to divorce? She pushed the thought from her head. She needed to work on understanding her own faulty thinking before considering anything that drastic.
Someone knocked softly on the door. “Come in.”
Stephanie, her assistant, stood in the doorway. “That was your last appointment, so if you don’t need me, I’m going to take off.”
“That’s fine.” She blew out a breath as Stephanie turned to go and then said, “Steph, wait. Can I ask you a question?”
Stephanie spun around. “Sure.”
“What do you think about divorce?”
“That’s a pretty broad question. Can you be more specific?”
She smiled. Steph didn’t buy in to the typical baiting questions she used on her clients. “One, do you think it’s appropriate to divorce if people are better off apart? Two, do you think it’s possible for people who divorce to remain friends?”
“One, hell yes. I grew up with parents who should’ve divorced, and it was miserable. Two, that depends on the people. My parents are happily divorced now, but they’re not friends. They don’t speak unless I’m the reason.”
“Why aren’t they friends?”
“The divorce was brutal. Between dividing their belongings, money, and child support, lots of things were said that couldn’t be forgotten.” Steph shrugged. “They’re civil when they end up at the same place or event, but neither one of them goes out of their way to talk to one another.”
“Do you think it would’ve been better if they’d divorced sooner?”
“I was sad when it happened because I liked having them both in the same house with me, but when I look back on it, I do think it might have been better if they’d split sooner.”
“Thank you. Your insights are spot-on, as always.”
Steph started to leave and then stopped. “Divorce isn’t a bad thing. I mean, we’re living in the twentieth century. No one brands you with a scarlet letter or anything. People just realize they want different things. They want to be happy.” With that, she turned and swept quietly out of the room.
Carly relaxed into her chair, wondering who the better marriage counselor was, she or Stephanie, before she picked up the phone and called Jordan.
Jordan answered after the first ring. “Hey. What’s up?” At least she didn’t avoid her calls.
“Just wanted to let you know I’m going to your mom and dad’s to see the kids this afternoon.”
“Cool. Is Suz going to be there?”
“Suzanna and James are out of town, remember?” She could tell she wasn’t getting Jordan’s full attention. So much for her answering right away. What difference did it make if she didn’t listen?
“Right. So, I’ll see you at home later?”
“I thought you could come by and see them, take a short swim, and then we could go to dinner from there.”
“Right.” Jordan dragged the word out slowly. “Where are we going again?”
“You forgot.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.
“Nope. Not at all. I just had my mind on something else—kind of in the middle of something. I probably shouldn’t have picked up.”
“What could be more important than me?”
“Absolutely nothing. I just have a lot to finish before I can get out of here.” Jordan sighed into the phone. “What time is the reservation?”
“Seven.”
“I’ll try to get to Mom and Dad’s as soon as I can, but I’m not guaranteeing it will be early enough to swim.”
“Okay. Then I’ll let you go.” She was having a hard time suppressing her irritation. No matter how much work she had on her plate, she never made Jordan feel she was too busy to talk to her. Just another sign she’d married the wrong person. She took a notebook from the top drawer of her desk and flipped it open. Last month’s entry had been a two, but that conversation had just lowered the number to a one. U
nderneath it she scribbled, NO CONNECTION ANYMORE—AT ALL. She flipped the notebook closed and shoved it back into her drawer.
Chapter Three
Wynn walked past the tables and wicker-lined chairs on the bistro’s patio and entered the restaurant. She immediately spotted Jordan at her favorite table by the front window. Her sister was a creature of habit. Once she found a place she liked, she continued going there until they screwed something up. Her current choice for lunch was a little French bistro on Baker Street that served the absolute best seafood stew. This place had lasted longer on Jordan’s radar than most, so their service must be excellent.
With leather booths and padded, wooden chairs, it had a homey yet elegant feel. Small tables that could be pushed together to create substantial seating for large parties filled the dining room, and window seats provided the opportunity to enjoy the quiet hum of diners chatting inside while also watching the weather and passersby on the sidewalk. The food was a little pricy, but Jordan was buying, so Wynn didn’t intend to worry about the cost. In fact, she might just order a bottle of wine as well. She needed something to change her mood. She let the hostess know she was with Jordan and then weaved through the tables to where she was seated.
Jordan stood as Wynn approached the table. “Happy birthday, sis.” She gathered her into a hug.
“Thanks.” Her birthday wasn’t until tomorrow, but this was the only time Jordan could fit Wynn into her schedule this week.
“How old are you this year?”
“Thirty-one.” The work she’d had to do this past year as chief operating officer had made her feel so much older. Was the job worth it?
“Still just a pup.” Jordan squeezed the two lemon wedges remaining on the plate in front of her into her water.
“She’s bringing you a water and more lemon wedges.”
“How about a bottle of wine?”