Marriage For One

“If you pull the same shit you pulled at dinner again, we’ll have problems.”

“Excuse me?”

“What you did at dinner—I’m letting you know if it happens again, we’ll have problems.”

“It’s going to be like that, huh?”

“Cut the crap and don’t act like you care about my life or my wife. We know each other pretty well by now, I’d think. You know I don’t like having people in my business, so stay out of it.”

Cynthia stuck her head in, interrupting before Samantha could give a response. “Did you call me, Jack?”

I hadn’t, but Cynthia knew the trick. If there was someone in my office she was sure I wouldn’t want there, she always ran interference. “Yes, I need you to get me the—”

Samantha rose to her high-heeled feet and I paused midsentence. “I’ll leave you to your work. I didn’t mean any harm, Jack, truly—not that night, and not just now. I’m simply pointing out that you’ve changed, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. Plus, I was curious, obviously.”

When she realized I wasn’t going to answer, she released a long sigh, turned around, and gave Cynthia a smile before walking out of my office.

“You need anything?” Cynthia asked, and I shook my head. She left without another word. She was the best assistant in the entire firm.

Done with the papers, I got on with my ten-thirty call, and we wrapped up at a quarter past eleven. Rising, I put on my suit jacket and called Raymond so he could bring the car around front.

Leaving the office, I stopped in front of Cynthia’s desk and dropped off the documents. “Can you have the copies ready by the time I get back?”

“Of course.”

“Also, do you remember the charity thing you mentioned a few weeks ago? Something for kids?” I tried to remember where it was going to be held, but I couldn’t come up with the name. “It was on the tenth, I think. I’m not sure.”

“Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“I want to donate, so I’m going to attend with my wife. Can you take care of everything?”

“You’re going to attend a charity dinner?” Her voice got thinner with each word as her brows rose higher.

“Try not to look so surprised. Can you handle it?”

She shook herself out of her disbelief. “Of course I can. I’ll give you the info you need when you get back.”

“Okay. Thank you, Cynthia. I’ll see you later.”

I managed to take a few steps away from her desk before her voice stopped me.

“Jack?”

I turned back and waited. She played with her glasses and looked away from me.

“I’m going to be late. What do you want?”

“Jack…it’s not my place, and I know that, so don’t bite my head off for saying this, but…” I knew nothing that started with those words could be something I’d want to hear.

“I don’t bite your head off.”

She smiled, relaxing in her seat. “Only every day.”

“Surely not every day,” I said seriously, but her smile grew, and then she slowly went back to being serious.

“You have to tell her, Jack.”

“I have to tell who what? Samantha?”

She pinned me with her stare. “No. Not Samantha. I’ve known you for years now—don’t try to act stupid with me. You have to tell her. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

I opened my mouth, but she lifted her finger and stopped me. “You have to tell her.”

It finally dawned on me what the hell she was talking about. Of course she was talking about Rose. If there was one person whose crap I’d tolerate, it was Cynthia, and even with her, I had a limit, yet I didn’t respond the way I would’ve responded if it was anyone but her. “It’s not the right time,” I forced out through my gritted teeth.

“It’s never going to be the right time, Jack.”

As if I didn’t already know that. As if I didn’t know I was doomed.

I left before she could say anything else.

Not exactly sure what I would face—because it always seemed to be a surprise when it came to Rose—I walked through the door. The day before, it had smelled like vanilla; it now smelled of cinnamon and fragrant coffee. With the bell’s noise, Rose glanced my way while still attending to a customer. Her smile faltered, but she didn’t lose it completely. Instead of heading over to her, I picked the table next to her little library and got comfortable. My seat was facing her, so I looked around and noticed, out of the twelve tables, nine were occupied. For her second day, she was doing amazingly well. Even the bar seats had a couple customers deep in conversation as they looked out on the street, drinking their coffees. Two new customers walked in and I settled down to wait. Taking out my phone, I started to catch up on emails.