I follow her into her office. She slams the door behind me. I’ve never seen her this mad before. Still, as always, she looks impeccable.
“I’ll make this easy for you. You can either call off the engagement or you’re fired.” I stare at her for a long moment, thinking smoke might come out of her ears.
I burst into laughter.
Chapter Fifteen
Wyatt
“I’m fired.”
I sit up in my chair so fast that I nearly launch out of the seat. “Come again?”
“Meredith told me that I had to either call off the engagement or I was fired,” Lucy explains.
“Oh, so you’re fired, and she’s going to be ruined.”
“Wyatt, really?”
“Yeah, really,” I start tapping out instructions on my keyboard. “I’ll send the car to get you. Where are you?”
“I’m standing outside of Perfect Event Creations with a banker’s box of my personal belongings.”
“Meredith doesn’t just want to be ruined; she wants to be humiliated.”
“I think she’s jealous.”
“Of what?”
“She thought you two were on a date last night.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the blank screen in shock. “Where the hell did she get that idea from? I gave her a lease agreement to sign so you could work on the 4th floor here. It doesn’t matter. Ernest is drawing up a new agreement with just you along with some LLC papers for a new company. You just need to decide the name and I’ll get everything filed with the state today.”
There’s a long pause. I wonder if we got disconnected, but just as I’m about to redial, she speaks up.
“I don’t know if I want to start my own business,” she says in a quiet voice. “That’s never been a dream of mine. The car is here. I’ll talk to you later about it.”
She hangs up before I can respond. I finish my emails to Ernest, grab my jacket, and head for the door. On my way out, I pass on additional instructions. “Cancel my appointments for the rest of the week. Use the wedding as an excuse. Put a pause on the incorporation papers. Cancel the lease with Perfect Event Creations and get one of our investigators on Meredith Terinni. I want to know every piece of dirt about her including medical history, credit history, criminal history. If she smoked a joint in college, I want to know about it, and I want that in my inbox by Friday.”
“Will you be returning to the office?” Ernest asks, taking in my orders without a question. There’s a reason he’s paid six figures.
“Not this week.”
It takes less than five minutes to get to the townhouse, which means I arrive before Lucy. There are delivery boxes on the stoop, which I haul inside and get to unpacking. Pink plates and mugs for the kitchen including one that says Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Pink and blue striped comforter for my bedroom—no, our bedroom—and new white towels with pink trim and monograms of L and W on them. I hope these small changes make her feel more comfortable in our home.
I’m deconstructing the last of the cardboard boxes when I hear the front door sensor beep on my phone to let me know that Lucy’s home. I toss the X-acto knife onto a nearby shelf and haul ass inside. Lucy doesn’t look upset or defeated, which I’d guess is how a fired person would appear. Instead, she gives me a shy smile while toeing off her shoes.
“You didn’t have to leave work for me.”
I take her box. “This is it?” There isn’t much in there. I find a photo of her mother and her along with some socks, a bottle of lotion—“My hands get dry, and my feet are always cold,” she tells me—a tape dispenser—“I bought that”—and a matching pen holder—“and that one, too.”
“Babe, you could’ve taken Meredith’s wallet and I wouldn’t give a damn.” There are a few other things like a letter holder, a couple of notebooks, and a trophy of some sort. I think she got that for winning an office pool for fantasy football last year. I tuck the box under my arm and walk over to the living room fireplace. On the mantle, I set the picture frame. “Come on, let’s put your socks in your closet and order you some slippers. I can’t have your feet getting cold.”
She follows me upstairs. “What’s this about not wanting to start your own business? Is it the managerial stuff that you’re apprehensive about? I can lend you Ernest until you find someone you like to run the business while you do your event planning work.”
“It’s not even that. It’s—I don’t know what I want to do with my life. You know, I started working at Perfect and then my mom died, and I’ve really only continued to work there because I wasn’t ready to move on. Meredith firing me sort of knocked me sideways but in a good way. Like, I’m thinking that I should take this time to do a personal re-assessment. I guess that sounds dumb.”