Head Over Feels

I cover her other hand with mine for two reasons: effect and to stop her from trying to hurt me. Since Bob is waggling the paper in front of the camera with a big grin on his face, I ask, “What is that?”

“It’s our official declaration to end the war.” Fuck me. Does this mean what I think it does?

“And by ending the war, what do you mean exactly?” My gut tightens. I can read into his words, but I’m going to need this spelled out for me. Clearly, if my career is going up in flames in front of the partners, I deserve the courtesy of making sure I understand.

Lorie pops into the frame of the camera, rubbing Bob’s shoulders. Internally, I roll my eyes because aren’t we both just the happy couples . . .

I’ve seen her in movies and in interviews. I had to watch to make sure my case was airtight. But seeing her now, sans makeup and dressed in workout clothes, I observe a different side of the famous actress most will never see. Simply looking happy, she says, “This is us agreeing to be together.” Her gaze flits back and forth between Marlow and me. “And we want to invite you both to the vow renewal we’re having in Maui at the house.”

I expect a big reaction from Marlow, something more over-the-top—an outburst or tantrum—per usual. But I don’t even hear her swallow.

Over my shoulder, I look up at her but find her expression unreadable. So I spin in the chair, causing her hands to drop away. “Marlow, are you okay?”

She nods, but it’s exaggerated. I can only imagine that this announcement has come as a shock. She once said she didn’t even bother to get to know her stepmoms anymore, but does she hate the idea of her dad being married so much that she’s lost her spirit to fight?

If she can’t lead this conversation, I need to step in for both of us. I grasp her hand, which causes her to finally look at me. With my back to the camera, I whisper, “It’s going to be okay.”

She nods, and as if a switch was flipped, she comes alive for the camera. Throwing her arms in the air, she claps her hands together. “That is such great news. Congratulations. And, yes, of course, we’ll be there. We wouldn’t miss it.” Not going to happen. Not on my watch. I just got out of the doghouse with Tealey because of this arrangement, so no, I won’t be flying to Maui with Marlow.

No way. No how.

Bob says, “I’m happy, sweetheart.” He kisses Lorie.

“I know,” Marlow replies as if she was asked for permission. “I can see it.”

Resting his arms forward on his desk, he says, “So about the divorce, Wellington. How do we put this to bed since we’re not moving forward?”

I feel sick. There goes making partner. I bet they give it to Rogers, who’s been fighting Big Pharma for victims. He has that advantage because it’s a more noble legal field.

Do I have a right to feel disappointed that I’m losing an opportunity when he’s keeping his marriage together? Sure. I give myself a few seconds to grieve a promotion that was mine to lose. A part of me is angry that I lost it based on Bob dangling a carrot like I’d be a made man if I took his case. I’m also disappointed, but with Ashleigh pregnant and eventually taking leave, maybe now’s not my time?

And then there’s Tealey. She’s making me see things differently. With this hurdle out of my path, I can start being with Tealey and put an end to the strain this charade has caused.

Seeing Bob smiling—and how happy Lorie is—makes me say, “I wish you the best.” And I genuinely mean it. “I can send the paperwork that will terminate the proceedings if everything is remaining the same. If you’re reevaluating the assets or decide to alter the prenuptial agreement, I can handle that for you.”

He says, “We’ll talk about it and let you know at the wedding.” Yeah, not taking that trip. Pretending on video call is bad enough.

I say, “I’m not sure I can get to Maui—”

“No, Cammie and Cade’s. I got the invitation today and RSVP’d that Lorie and I will be there since we were already planning a visit to the Hamptons.”

Lorie dips back onto the screen. “I hear wedding bells are in the future. Maybe we can look at rings while I’m in New York, Marlow.” If only I weren’t on camera right now . . . “And we can start planning your wedding. Bond over girl stuff like that. Two brides-to-be.”

Gobsmacked, I hold my breath. It’s best for all of us.

Marlow’s hands return to my shoulder, and she squeezes. “A ring?” I hear the discomfort in her tone, and hope for our sakes, they don’t. “You know, I’ll leave that to Rad. He has exquisite taste, and I love surprises.”