The Work Wife

by Allison B Hanson

  As much as she wanted to be Team One, she wanted to earn it. She didn’t want to step into it. And she really didn’t want to have to work with Duane. The plan had always been for Wes and her to knock Duane out of the spot. That was what she wanted.

  “Stability and reliability create a bond that allows fresh ideas to grow and mature to their full potential. At least that’s how it seems to work for Wes and me.”

  “No one is going to make you leave Wes. We just wanted you to know you had that option if you wanted it. I’d be thrilled to have you on my team. I think the two of us would be great together.”

  “Thanks, but I’m happy where I am.” This was not exactly true. She wanted to be number one, but she didn’t want to have to sell her soul to the devil. Or Duane, as it were.

  “Are you really happy, Jamie? Or are you content?”

  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.

  Emotions were not his strong suit. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he did. He just didn’t have the experience necessary to deal with them. He glanced down at his phone and, for a second, thought about sending Cindy out to get a candy bar just in case. Damn Rob for only having healthy snacks in the vending machines.

  Letting out a sigh, he stood and went over to her area. Taking his usual spot on the corner of her desk, he crossed his arms and looked down at her.

  “Spill it.”

  At first he didn’t think the direct approach was going to work, but after a deep breath she slumped her shoulders and started talking.

  “Duane asked to speak to me this morning.”

  Duane was part of Design Team One and Wes had always respected his work, while inwardly disliking the man himself. Wes wasn’t sure why he didn’t care for the guy, he just didn’t. “Did he upset you?”

  “No. Not really. He asked me to consider joining his team when Neil retires.”

  Wes knew he wasn’t hiding his shock very well. For a moment he tried to decide whether he should block the door so she couldn’t leave, or run down to Duane’s office and give him a good shake.

  “That’s rather unprofessional.”

  “Is it? He had some good points. Maybe we’re only working together because we always have. Maybe we’d be better with other people.”

  “I would not be better with other people. You and I are a team. I know what I’m going to get from you, and I trust you when you tell me something I’m doing isn’t quite right. Our stuff is great because it’s our stuff.”

  He knew how much Jamie wanted to be on Team One. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it. He just enjoyed what he did and didn’t get pulled into the drama. He knew he was a better engineer than Duane. That wasn’t ego, it was a fact.

  The only reason they’d kept their spot on Team One was because Neil’s designs were organic and trendsetting. Without Neil, it wouldn’t take long for Jamie and Wes to move up to number one. But he wasn’t sure he could convince her. And it wouldn’t be in time to snag the McCafferty job.

  “But you only thought my design was nice.” At this she sniffed and looked away from him.

  So that was it. She didn’t feel appreciated. He’d been taking her for granted and hadn’t properly emphasized how much he needed her.

  “You don’t like the words good or nice? How’s this for a word? I fucking love your stuff. You are so talented. I know we will get to Team One because you
’re amazing.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  Nothing he said seemed to fix this.

  “Have I ever patronized you, Jamie? When you asked me what I thought of that halter dress thing you changed into last summer for your date, did I hold anything back?”

  “You said I should charge at least three hundred a night because I looked like a high-class hooker instead of a run-of-the-mill street whore.”

  Maybe reminding her of that comment was not his best idea, but it did prove that he wouldn’t just throw words at her to spare her feelings.

  “What I said was true—not the street whore part, but just now. I should have told you I loved the design yesterday. When I saw it, I thought it was amazing, but I should have voiced it so you knew. I’ll try to be better about that. Please don’t throw away everything we’ve worked for because Duane thinks you’re settling.”

  “Okay. You’re right. I’m being crazy. It just stirred up a lot of things. And I started to have doubts.”

  “I get it. You’re a talented architect. Anyone would want you on their team. And we’ve been together for five years now. Maybe Duane seems more exciting.”

  “He doesn’t. In fact, he kind of icks me out. I just had a moment of insecurity, but I’m better now.”

  “Do you want me to go get you some chocolate?” he offered, now that they’d made up.

  “No, thank you. Maybe next week.” It would be closer to nine days according to his calculations.

  * * * *

  Jamie felt better by the time they headed to his car so he could drive her home. They’d stayed late to finish a project, and the sleet had turned to ice and then snow. It hurt to breathe in, the air too cold for her fragile Southern lungs.

  She ran ahead, hoping to get in the car before the cold could settle in her bones, but stopped short when she slipped on the parking lot surface. She didn’t fall, but it was a very close thing. Fortunately no one could see her less-than-graceful recovery. Except Wes, who was laughing hysterically.

  Everyone else had left for the day, leaving the parking lot empty. Odd black squares dotted the spaces, like shadows of where the cars had been. The intense snow would cover those spots soon enough. The bright lights gave everything a strange yellow glow.

  “If I didn’t hate this cold stuff so much, I would make a snowball and whip it at you.”

  “Candy ass.”

  At his SUV she hopped up and down, waiting for him to unlock the doors. When she didn’t see the lights flash she moved to look across the hood to find him frowning at the remote in his hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The remote must be dead. And the lock is frozen.”

  Steadily she held on to the ice-encrusted vehicle to maneuver herself back to his side. He handed her his laptop bag and she strapped it across her body opposite her own so it balanced her load.

  He bent and cupped his hands over the handle. A puff of warm breath blocked the view of his face for a moment before he did it again and again. He reminded her of a fire-breathing dragon, though if he had the ability to breathe fire, he would have needed only one try to defrost the lock.

  She looked up into the black sky as a snowy, icy mix pelted down on her face. Not for the first time did she wonder why she had ever decided to move here. The snow had been so pretty the first time she’d seen it. However, many evil things came in beautiful packages. She’d been truly tricked.

  Wes put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened with a tug and he hit the door locks. She yanked open the back door and put their bags on the floor so she wouldn’t risk their gear as she made her treacherous voyage back to her side of the vehicle.

  But on the other side, she was once again stuck out in the cold. The door handle wouldn’t open. She tugged it, but it didn’t budge.

  She knocked on the ice-covered glass. It looked like he was putting the key in the ignition. She was moments away from heated bliss. If only she could get in the damn car.

  “It won’t open,” she called.

  “Pull.”

  “I am.” She heard the sound of the locks clicking and unclicking then clicking again. Each time she tried but it didn’t work.

  “Hell.” She tried the back door, but it seemed like this side of the vehicle had an extra inch of ice covering it. Giving up, she walked around the front of the car as Wes was stepping out to come help.

  As if in slow motion, a number of things happened at once.

  Her foot slipped out from under her. She felt gravity pulling her down to the hard, unrelenting pavement. But there was another choice. She lunged in Wes’s direction, hoping his body would save her from having to make contact with the cold ground.

  The thrust of her body pushed him back against the door, slamming it shut, but both of them were still upright. It was a win. Or so she thought until Wes righted himself, checked her over, and reached for the door handle.

  At the sound of his “Fuck,” she knew what had happened.

  They were locked out in the middle of an ice storm.

  Chapter 2

  Wes closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere else. The only thing that would make their situation worse was if they were both naked. Of course, they probably wouldn’t have been walking around the parking lot naked in winter.

  He moved into survival mode.

  “We’re locked out.” It wasn’t a question, and somehow hearing her acknowledge it, made it more horrid.

  “Yeah.” If only he’d pressed the door-lock button one more time when he’d been trying to get the door open for her. One more push of the button would have changed everything. “We’ll have to call someone to come get us.”

  “Please hurry.” He knew she wasn’t trying to be a problem. Her whole body was shivering. She blew into her mitten-covered hands and bounced up and down.

  “Where’s my bag?” He’d put his phone in the padded flap of his laptop bag in case he took a spill and ended up falling on his back pocket where he normally kept his phone.

  “Oh.” The tone of her voice when she said that simple word assured him he was not going to like what she said next. “It’s in the back seat.”

  He quickly went around to all the doors, just in case they hadn’t locked with the rest. Inside, he could see their laptop bags—which held both of their phones—nestled on the floor beside each other. They looked rather cozy. His set of keys to the building were also in that bag.

  “We’re going to die.” she said.

  He frowned at her, knowing she was joking. The girl was smart as a whip and the daughter of a cop. There was no one he’d rather be stuck on an island or abandoned in a snow-covered parking lot with.

  “Or we can go back inside and wait until the night security crew comes in at ten,” she said, coming up with a feasible backup plan. Maybe he could walk to a nearby business, but everything he could see from there looked dark. Besides, without his phone he didn’t know anyone’s phone number.

  It was almost eight now. Two hours until help arrived. He took her arm to assist her and then nearly fell himself. She was quick to help him. So much for gallantry. At least he was able to hold open the door to the lobby in a gentlemanly fashion. He noticed her shoulders relax as soon as she was inside the vestibule.

  As she reached for the inner door to the lobby, he braced himself for reality while still hoping tonight would be different. Those doors locked behind him whenever he stayed late. Tonight was no exception.

  * * * *

  “Son of a bitch.” She let her head fall back in utter defeat. She knew it was a long shot, but she couldn’t help but try. This couldn’t be happening. No one would ever believe this. The only thing left to make their experience a complete nightmare was for a velociraptor to come out of the lobby bathroom and eat one of them.

  Wes was bigger. Surely he would be eaten firs
t.

  “At least it’s warm,” he offered.

  Ever the optimist, Jamie had no choice but to go along with it and be positive. It was warm. Due to the ten-foot tropical plants, the glass lobby maintained a toasty temperature.

  And there was also a bathroom and a coffee machine. What they didn’t have was a phone, though she could see it on the desk sitting about five feet from the locked door separating the lobby from the vestibule.

  She peeled her outerwear off before she started to sweat. It was such a contrast to how she’d felt five minutes ago. God, she hoped this wasn’t what menopause felt like.

  Wes only had to worry about a jacket, which he tossed on one of the four sofas before starting on the coffee.

  She flopped down on the nearest sofa and watched Wes prepare her cup with one pack of sugar and a two-second count of creamer. He always got it right.

  Not that he was the only one who knew his co-worker. She knew he took three packs of sugar and no creamer. Unless she wanted to do something special for him, then she would get him a vanilla caramel latte. The carnal groan that escaped on his first sip always made it worth the extra cost.

  “Do you have any change for the snack machine?” he asked as the coffee machine burbled and gasped the last of its offerings.

  “Yep. In my laptop bag.” She let out a sigh. “Don’t you have your wallet?”

  “Yep. It has three twenties in it.”

  She let out a low whistle. “Three twenties. Look at you, all Daddy Warbucks.”

  When the coffee was done he filled their cups and set them on the coffee table in front of her.

  “It’s hot,” he warned as she proceeded to take a sip anyway, burning her mouth. “Oh.” He grabbed his jacket from the other sofa and checked one pocket before switching to root through the other. He pulled out some kind of protein bar and held it up triumphantly. “Protein. We won’t starve. In fact we’ll have enough strength to break down the wall.”

  She smiled at his expression and the fact he didn’t even hesitate to share his last morsel of food with her. Maybe it was because they both knew help would be arriving in less than two hours. But knowing Wes, he’d share his bar even if things were more dire.