Page 8 of The Perfect Marriage

“I’ll take care of our little Bob situation.” I pick up my coffee.

She gives me a nod and takes my bag from me, while I charge toward Bob’s office. Bob is two offices down. His is nice but nowhere near as nice as mine. He started here around the same time I did, but unlike him, I made partner, and I know he has a chip on his shoulder about it. I assume that’s why he’s been trying to steal Anne from me. When we started, he didn’t even look at me as competition. Now, he does. I made sure of that. I let myself in without a knock, and I find Bob sitting at his desk eating an egg sandwich without a care in the world. He’s average looking with a somewhat sinister tinge to him thanks to his dark eyes and hair, tall height, and sharp jawline.

“Morning, Bob.” I take a seat in front of his desk.

He nods straightening himself and setting his sandwich down. “What do I owe the pleasure, Sarah?” There’s a twinkle in his mahogany eyes.

“Listen, Bob. You’re going to stop asking Anne to run your errands or make copies for you or grab you food at all times of the day. Anne is my assistant and just because you go through assistants like pairs of underwear doesn’t mean you get to sniff after mine. Got it, Bob?” I narrow my eyes and crumple my lips.

“Anne is paid for by the firm. She’s fair game.” He takes another wet bite out of his egg sandwich. He chews and smiles, pleased with himself.

“Actually, you’re wrong about that. Part of her salary is paid for by the firm, the other part is paid for by me.”

“Ha, that’s ridiculous. Why would you do that?” He laughs.

“Because I treat people like actual people.”

“What a load.” He shakes his head and continues to chew his oversized mouthful.

“Bob, I’ll tell you what. There’s a partners meeting coming up. If your little assistant stealing games don’t stop, I’ll recommend that you be let go. We don’t need any deadweight around here.” I stand, towering over him.

“You’re the one that’s dead weight.” He narrows his eyes.

“Good one, Bob. Look I’m not in the mood for your petty power-play bullshit so just don’t mess with me on this and do as you’re told for once. Understood?” I take a drink of my coffee.

Bob scoffs at me but doesn’t say a word. He tosses the remainder of his egg sandwich in the trash and pounds his fist on his desk. I see myself out of his office and return to my own. Anne is fielding phone calls at her desk. I give her a wink and a nod, and she smiles back. An enormous bouquet of red roses is sitting in a vase on the coffee table. I lean down taking a big whiff. I can’t help but smile. I look at the card attached to them. It reads:

Sarah, it’s always been you. Love, Adam

“Those are beautiful.” Anne stands in the doorway, admiring the flowers.

I set the card down and turn to her. “Thanks, they’re from Adam.”

“Well, I sure hope they’d be from your husband. Who else would get you flowers? What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing. We’re just trying for a baby.” I give a coy smile.

“What! Oh my God!” Anne practically screams bouncing into the office and hugging me.

“A baby… don’t you mean a knick-knack?” a voice from outside my office says. I recognize it immediately. Matthew stands in the doorway, dressed in a J.Crew knit sweater and chino pants. He looks like a skinnier Brad Pitt, replete with dirty blond hair that is messy in a way that can only be achieved via a two-hundred-dollar haircut. He has dull blue eyes that draw you in slowly as opposed to striking you all at once, so you can savor the spell they create.

Matthew sashays across the room to me with all the poise of a runway model. He turns whatever room he is in into a stage. This is how he commands a room. This is why he is paid a king’s ransom as a lobbyist for a pharmaceutical company that changes from time to time based on who’s paying him the most. Matthew and I have been friends since our days in law school at Yale, but it’s been over a year since I last saw him.

“Oh my God!” Without missing a beat, we are wrapped up in each other’s arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Just got in yesterday,” he says backing up while still holding my hands in the air. “Let me see you.” I give him half a twirl. “Still killing it,” he compliments.

I look to Anne who is standing a few feet from us, one hand holding her elbow as if she was completely out of place. “You remember my assistant?”

“Of course,” Matthew walks to Anne and holds out a hand. “It’s Anna, right?”

She nods and shakes his hand.

“No, Matthew. It’s Anne, not Anna,” I correct. Anne needs to learn to speak up for herself.

“I’m so sorry, Anne. It’s great to see you again.” He waltzes in and takes a seat in my chair. “Still got the biggest office in the building, I see.” He looks around admiring my hard work.

“Would you expect anything less?” I raise an eyebrow.

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