I’m going to have nothing but a half-finished house to my name.
“Why did she have to come the day I have spit-up on my blouse?” Jenna rubbed despairingly at the mark on her shoulder, which she’d dabbed with Seth’s Tide pen when she’d arrived.
There was no denying the green blouse was stained, but Seth said, “It’s not noticeable at all. Can barely see it now.”
“You’re a liar, but a sweet one.” Jenna opened her top drawer and pulled out a compact. She blotted at her nose and then tugged her blond curls loose from her customary ponytail and squinted at her reflection in the little mirror. “Nope,” she muttered before tying her hair back up again. “Frizz city.”
“It’s fine,” Seth said. “You look great.” He glanced down at himself. He wore a standard work outfit—pressed gray slacks, button-down shirt in blue, and a navy tie. His black Oxfords were polished. He ran a hand over his short, thick, brown hair, which he kept neatly combed back. “Do I look okay?”
Jenna didn’t even glance up as she examined the stain on her blouse with her compact mirror. “Of course. You look perfect as always. I should have done my hair this morning, but the baby was being so fussy, and Ian refused to wear long sleeves even though it’s supposed to snow today.”
As she grumbled about what a pain in the butt five-year-olds were, Seth adjusted the knot on his tie half an inch higher before smoothing a palm down the subtly patterned silk. He snorted mentally. Perfect. Jenna always insisted he was classically handsome (”like Jimmy Stewart!”), but if he was so perfect, why had Brandon left him?
Nope. Abort. Focus on the current crisis.
He stopped himself from tumbling down the rabbit hole of why, a question he knew he’d never really answer. Brandon was gone. The end. It had been more than a year for Pete’s sake.
Because I wasn’t enough. That’s why.
“Focus,” Seth muttered to himself as Matt’s head appeared over the partition that separated Seth and Jenna’s desks from the next pod.
Matt’s ruddy face was flushed even more than usual beneath his pale, shaggy hair. “Guys. I’ve got the scoop.” Jenna wheeled her chair over to Seth’s with one push, bumping into him. The other two desks behind them in their pod were empty since the interns had finished for the semester.
Matt glanced around and whispered over the partition, “They’re implementing a new structure. Allegedly no one’s getting fired, but we’ll see. Angela’s picking five new directors herself. It’s this thing she does. You know how she’s all about the company being like family?”
Jenna said, “Uh-huh. ‘Family values’ to the point where people married with kids get ahead more.”
“What?” Seth sputtered. “But that’s not fair.”
Jenna and Matt stared at him like he had three heads. Matt said, “How do you not know this already? I sent you the link to the subreddit on Angela and BRK Sync when they bought us out last month.” He fiddled with the collar of his suit jacket, which he wore over a T-shirt. There were undoubtedly dark suede sneakers on his feet instead of dress shoes, but since he was the graphic designer in the communications department, everyone let it go. Young creative types and all that.
“That message board?” Seth asked. “I’ve been busy working.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “Well, this has happened at every other company BRK has absorbed. Married with kids gets you ahead. Becky said Angela’s going to be here all week, and she’s taking us on some family Christmas retreat next weekend, so cancel your plans. Her way of welcoming us to the clan.”
Matt was sleeping with Becky, the alarmist receptionist/office manager, so Seth had no doubt the intel was good. Seth muttered, “Is this a corporation or a cult?”
“Little bit from column A, little bit from column B,” Matt said. “It’s batshit, but she’s the boss, so…” He leaned closer, his head all the way over the partition. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a few days. “Director of systems training is one of the roles. Everyone knows that should be yours, dude.”
Seth’s whole body clenched. “They’re finally creating that role?”
“About time,” Jenna said. “You’ve been doing the job since you transferred here.”
He had. He had, and that job was his. He’d done the job without the title and raise he’d deserved, hoping that he’d be rewarded eventually. He’d uprooted his whole life to come to Albany—after very careful consideration—with the promise that he’d move up in the company. Now that BRK had bought them out, this was his chance.
Too bad about his utter lack of spouse or family. He hardly even had friends after the breakup. There were some people back home in Georgia he saw on Facebook and never actually talked to anymore, and acquaintances at work. While Jenna had been on maternity leave, Seth had realized how friendless he was.