Page 50 of The Perfect Marriage

“That was not my intent at—”

“Well, it’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Regardless of your intent.” He pauses and stands to come around to the front of his desk and sit on the edge. “Look, Sarah, I’m not here to scold you. You are a big girl, and you are free to do as you please, for the most part. I just want to get a handle on this because it is making us look weak and spread thin, and don’t think others haven’t noticed.”

“You’re right. This is… harder than I anticipated. I just…”

“And who can blame you? I certainly don’t. Hell, I can’t imagine the stress. But that’s my point. Look, I’ll allow this charade to continue because I know nothing I say is going to stop you, but—hear me out—you need to end this, and end it quickly. For you. For me. For the firm. I’ll get other people to cover some of your accounts in the interim, and I’ll clear you from any new work for the time being. But get this taken care of.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your understanding,” I say, a bit angry but knowing that I won’t win this argument. He isn’t wrong.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. You see, since you aren’t covering corporate accounts, you don’t get to enjoy the monthly retainer fees they bring in, i.e., your portion of the profit-sharing is on hold until you end this case—”

“That’s not in our agreement! You can’t fucking—”

“Or what! You’ll sue me? See how that goes for you. Look, this should be an incentive for you. End this quickly, the money comes back. Understood?”

I stare at him with fire in my eyes. I’m not going to answer him and quite frankly, I’m done with this conversation. I stand up and head toward the door.

“Oh, Sarah, one last thing.”

“Yes, Kent?”

“Your secretary, Pam.”

“It’s Anne.”

“Yes, yes, Anne. She isn’t your sidekick to follow you around like a little dog on your every errand. She is being paid to be here and be a resource to the firm, not just you.”

“Last time I checked, Kent, she was my secretary, and I pay half her salary…”

“Yes, and I the other half. So, if you would like to have her only half as much as you do now, be my guest. Or play ball and take care of this justice crusade on your own.” He turns and sits back behind his desk again.

“Cocksucker,” I whisper under my breath as I leave his office.

“Have a nice day, Sarah,” his secretary chirps as I pass her desk.

“Fuck off, Nicole,” I say without looking back.

In my haste, I bump into someone and am taken aback before I collect myself and look up. The gentleman I ran into is with another man. Both of them have oddly familiar faces that I struggle to place immediately. My memory recall is temporarily hamstrung by my anger.

“Woah, woah, woah, Mrs. Morgan, where ya off to in such a hurry?” The words come pouring out laced with a heavy Texan accent. Now I remember. These are the two executives from PetroNext, the very two who sat in to observe Senator McCallan’s trial.

“Gentlemen,” I reply, not answering their question.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” one of them says. It doesn’t matter which one as they’re spitting images of one another.

“I highly doubt you feel that way.”

“Fair is fair, Mrs. Morgan. And you won fair and square… this time,” the gentleman says to me, a smirk that can’t be described as anything other than nefarious, growing across his face.

“Right… Why don’t you both just run along into Kent’s office so he can play nice. I have actual work to do. Later y’all.” I blurt out. Not the smoothest of exchanges but I don’t have time for them.

As soon as I’m back in my office, Anne pops in. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I say, without taking my eyes off my monitor.

“That bad, huh?”

“Can you just bring me some coffee?” I huff.

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