The General (Professionals 4)

It would have to end sooner or later.

He had a job, friends, a life.

Outside of me.

And while I was hoping that someday he would include me in his friend group, in his whole world, I knew that things like that took time, that I couldn’t expect to be his everything. Ever. He had to have a life outside of me. And I would have to have a life outside of him as well.

I made a mental note to text Maren back, meet her for coffee or something, make normal, healthy connections for myself as well, give myself a social network for the times when he couldn’t be around. Because, from the sound of things, his work didn’t just take him away for long days. No. At times, he would be gone for days on end. Maybe even weeks if the job was international.

I couldn’t latch on and follow him around the world.

What’s more, I refused to be that woman. The clinging sort. The kind who made a man her entire universe.

Teddy had been my universe for far too long already. And while the situations were wholly different, the unhealthiness of them was the same.

“There she is,” Lincoln’s voice called, warm, welcoming, and – more importantly in the moment – familiar after we stepped in the front door to the very gray and black reception area where a red-headed woman who I knew as Jules – fiancée to Kai, collector of snow globes, and the glue that held the office together was behind a high desk, typing furiously on her keyboard. “How you doing, gorgeous?” he asked, coming up to press a kiss into my cheek as though we were the oldest of friends instead of distant acquaintances. “You look nervous.”

“Nervous?” another voice asked. “About meeting m…” the voice trailed off as the owner moved into the opening in the hallway, looking over at us. “Well now,” he said, giving me a smile, the kind that lit his blue eyes.”I guess meeting me is not the right phrase, is it, Jennifer?”

“Bellamy?” I asked, turning a confused look at Noah. I mean, he’d said they had a team member named Bellamy who was known for getting in all sorts of interesting situations. But I guess I had never put two and two together.

This Bellamy, he was someone who jumped in and out of my social circle, who had the kind of money that these people I once associated with respected, but had no interest in the world per se. One night he was there, dragging someone’s wife off to someplace, then dropping her back off saucer-eyed and happy for the first time in her life. Then was gone, not to be heard from again for a year or so.

“I would say I’m surprised,” Noah said, shaking his head. “But you can’t walk down any street in any country of the world without someone knowing this fuck,” he said, shaking his head.

“He steals away the wives of the people from the club,” I told him, a smile pulling at my lips.

“And return them happier than when I took them.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” another voice said, deep, serious, but there was lightness underneath it too. “We get it. Everyone loves your ass. Go do some work or something.”

“Hey, I was under the impression that I was brought in here to be wooed into working for you,” Bellamy declared with a smirk. “All I get is abuse.”

“And a nice paycheck,” the man who had to be Quin declared. “Regardless of the fact that you have yet to do any work.”

“Hey… I helped Jules file. Now, didn’t I, Jules?”

“Actually,” Jules said, lips twitching, “you kept trying to pull the files from my hands, telling me we’d have more fun if you taught me to tango instead.”

“I still stand by that,” Bellamy said, shrugging. “And I also brought Kai coffee like a good little office worker.”

“It had three fingers of whiskey,” the man who was clearly Kai said as he moved into the reception area.

“See what I have to put up with?” Bellamy asked, looking at me. “I bet you would let me teach you how to tango,” he added.

“I already know how,” I told him, remembering the dance lessons that had been insisted on early on in my marriage. As though anyone needed to know how to foxtrot anymore.

“Ah, yeah, that schmuck of a father-in-law would have insisted on that. For appearances. Was happy to hear about your husband’s timely death,” he added with an inappropriately large smile.

“Bellamy,” Jules hissed.

“What?” he shot back, shaking his head.

“She’s a client,” Jules added in a whisper even though I could clearly hear her.

“Client. As in client,” Bellamy repeated, looking at me with knowing eyes. “Good for fucking you. I hoped it hurt him half as much as that time he busted your rib before the Inner City Rehabilitation dinner did.”