I wanted to argue with her—particularly with what she was implying—but I couldn’t. I was busy, even on weekends. But that typically meant some combination of working at home, coming into the office, and attending events that were for networking, not personal enjoyment. Other than my monthly brunch and occasional wine nights in with my girlfriends, I rarely did anything that wasn’t work-related. Not lately, at least.
“Still,” I said, rolling my eyes at my own non-argument. “Now I have to coordinate my schedule with his.”
“I’m sure that’s very challenging when he has full access to your calendar.”
“Do I need to fire you again?”
“Now would be a good time,” she said, “since I’m on my way home anyway. You know, if I were you, I’d just move him in with me. You have plenty of space. Can you imagine coming downstairs in the morning and finding him in nothing but pajama pants making coffee?”
“That’s very specific. And you’re very married.”
“That’s why I said if I were you. Besides, I’m married, not dead. I can still enjoy the view.”
“I take it you’ve been enjoying the view all week.”
“Job perks,” she said, her voice cheerful. “Plus, I like him. He’s funny.”
“Funny?” That seemed like a stretch. He was quick with a comeback, but I wasn’t sure I’d have called him funny. “I think you mean stoically unflappable. He’s a brick wall.”
Her smile seemed to say you’ll see. “Well, have a good weekend with your brick wall.”
“Give Mateo kisses from Auntie Cam,” I said.
“I will.”
Brandy left and I turned my attention back to my computer. My stomach rumbled—when had I last eaten?—but I needed to check a few more things off my list before I went home. Thankfully I had Nicholas’s cooking to look forward to when I got there. Fridays were one of his days off, but he meal-prepped for me, so there was always something ready to go.
A message popped up on the corner of my screen.
Jude: Check in. Departure time?
Me: Not much longer. Do you have plans tonight?
Jude: Just walking you to your car.
Me: I meant after that.
Jude: No.
Funny, my ass. But now I was curious. What did Jude Ellis do on his own time?
Me: What about this weekend?
Jude: I keep my schedule clear when I have a client.
Me: That sounds like a pain. No wonder you keep trying to retire.
Jude: The hours are terrible.
Okay, maybe a little bit funny.
Me: I won’t be long.
Jude: Take your time.
EIGHT O’CLOCK SATURDAY morning and I’d already had two cups of coffee, been tortured by Inda in my home gym, reviewed data from R&D, and answered thirty-two emails. Sleeping in didn’t exist in my world.
Except when the girls and I declared a Fuck-It Friday, cleared our schedules for twenty-four hours, shut ourselves in one of our houses, and gorged on terrible-for-you food and booze until we passed out. Although it had been a long time since we’d done that. Our lives seemed to keep getting busier and busier.
Feeling restless, I got up from my desk and wandered over to the window. My home office overlooked part of Bluewater. Palm trees. Bright green vegetation and colorful flowers. Someone was driving a golf cart along a trail—it was the preferred method of transportation in Bluewater—and a small plane took off from the airfield in the distance.
I could see Emily’s house and I wondered if she and Derek were enjoying a lazy Saturday morning together. They were probably dressed in matching bathrobes, feeding each other bites of breakfast out on the terrace.
It was possible I was a tiny bit jealous of my friend.
Not in a destructive, make-me-bitter-and-ruin-our-friendship way. I was beyond happy for her. But my no-longer-single friend reminded me of how single I was.
My phone buzzed, so I went back to my desk and checked. Another message from Noelle. She was upset about the financials. With a heavy sigh, I sat back down. That woman questioned everything I did. I wasted so much time typing diplomatic replies to her semi-aggressive emails. But I knew if I wasn’t careful with every word, she’d find a way to use them against me.