Page 19 of The Probability of Us

Warren nods and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. There’s not a single drop of frustration or resentment in that look, but there is something I know all too well—heat.

“Okay, moving—” Peter starts.

“Actually, I have one more question,” I cut in with a sweet smile that the men I’ve worked with in the past have learned to fear. “Assuming we’re able to find a way to make this work, that should generate enough additional revenue to keep our staff on. So the layoffs you have planned won’t be necessary, is that correct?”

Everyone in the room goes still. The people on my side look at Peter with confused and angry expressions. The people on their side look surprised and hesitant.

“Sorry if that wasn’t common knowledge,” I add, unfazed by the dead silence surrounding me. “But there’s no way that the expenses you projected here accounted for everyone we currently have on staff. Which is understandable considering the revenue projections that are here, but in the case that we keep the consulting side alive, we can’t make what we do work with only half our staff.”

“Yes”—Peter clears his throat—“that can be reevaluated after we hear your proposal.” He pulls off a good faux calmness, but I catch a slight shake in his voice that gives him away.

Clara, Serge, and Jason start grumbling amongst themselves—I’m sure they had no clue this was coming until I mentioned it. Warren is jotting down notes and Mac is looking through her materials in preparation for her part of the presentation that’s coming up. No one else sees it, but as I continue to sit tall, Peter watches me with interest, and I swear I see the corners of his mouth slowly turn up into a smile. I nod my head at him and his eyes light up as he returns the gesture.

I can tell just from the short time we’ve been in this meeting that Peter is a good boss. He listens to his employees and trusts them. He even trustedmewith no reason to. I can see why Warren went to work for him; he’s everything our old bosses at Triniti weren’t.

* * *

“Damn, woman, are you gunning for my job or something?” Warren walks into my office towards the end of the day with a smile on his face. “That was brutal.”

“Did you expect me to hold back because I knew you?” He might’ve only worked with me for a little while, but even then I wasn’t afraid to be the one person with a differing opinion, or push back on what I thought was a stupid decision.

“No, I always knew that you’d grow to be a great leader, but that was something else entirely,” he says, with awe in his eyes. “You were clear and concise. You fought for your people, but you did it using logic, and you somehow tore down every counter argument we could’ve made before we could even say it. It was incredible . . .you’reincredible.”

“You’re only just realizing this?” I tease to cover the butterflies blooming in my stomach.

“Maybe I’m just now remembering what I’ve always known.” His voice is softer, more intimate, and my lungs forget how to breathe as my eyes stay locked on him. Time compresses, the size of the world shrinks, until there’s just us two and every moment we’ve shared together—real and imaginary, past, present, and future.

Someone coughs outside my office and I’m jolted back into reality. We both look around and catch Jason glaring at Warren through the open door as he passes by.

“He really doesn’t like me, does he?” Warren chuckles.

“He despises you.” I laugh and add, “He probably blames you for not being able to get a date with me, even though I’ve been turning him down since I started working here.”

I keep laughing but slowly realize Warren is silent. His jaw is tight, his lips pressed together, and his hands are gripping the seat so firmly I’m worried the armrests might snap right off.

“You okay?” I ask slowly.

He takes a few deep breaths before answering. “That hurt a lot more than I expected.”

My breathing stutters on the way in. I try to lighten the mood, but my voice comes out as a whisper. “That some douchebag guy is interested in me?”

“That you might’ve said yes,” he says, looking up at me. “If not to him, then to someone else. That you could’ve been moving on and I would’ve deserved every ounce of pain that brought me.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even done. Tears well up but I try to keep them from spilling over because anyone could walk by at any time. “What are you trying to do to me?”

His eyebrows pull together. “I’m not trying to do anything.”

“But youare.” I barely let him finish his sentence before I start again. “Youleft, Warren. You left and then you broke up with me. So you don’t get to sit here and say things that I wanted to hear six fucking years ago.”

“I know, but?—”

“No buts,” I say, trying to keep my voice at a whisper when I really want to scream at him. “I just want to know one thing. If I didn’t happen to be working here, would you have even told me you were going to be in town? Would you have tried to reach out? Because I don’t think you would’ve.”

“I—”

“Oh, there you are, Warren.” Peter appears in the doorway of my office, and I place a smile on my face. He glances between us. “Could you stop by the conference room when you’re done here?”

“We just finished up,” I say before Warren can speak. “I need to get going anyway. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

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