Page 58 of While You're There
“Well, I ended up ordering for you after all. Steak frites, and a side of crab risotto to share.”
“You’re the best, beautiful.”
“I know,” she replied playfully. She reached across the table for his hand and interlaced their fingers. “Tell me about the rest of your week. I know today sucked, but how was your first official week at the office?”
Before he could even open his mouth to respond, he felt his pocket vibrate again. He let his head hit against the back of the high-backed booth and blew out another breath.
“Obviously not over yet.” He grimaced as he fished out his phone to read the latest message from Quinn. “Hang on…” He opened up his email to glance over the new projection, typed out a quick reply of approval, then repocketed his phone.
“Why don’t you just turn your phone off, like you did on our honeymoon? At least through dinner?”
He scoffed, reached for his lowball glass, and emptied it. “It’s not that easy. I’m full time now, Tori. I’m the head of Logistics and Operations, and there’s a major issue going on right now that affects hundreds of people and hundreds of thousands of dollars. This is my team. This is the real world. I can’t just turn off my phone whenever it’s convenient for me. We’re not on our honeymoon anymore, beautiful. I have to be available right now.”
Her eyes narrowed across the table. “It was just a suggestion. You don’t need to lecture me.”
“I wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t trying to. I don’t want to fight with you. I’ve got a pounding headache…”
“Then why don’t you switch to water?” she clipped out.
He didn’t miss the implication of her tone. She’d been on him all day about drinking water. It wasn’t anything explicit, but the subtle hints that he was overindulging or that he needed to slow down were starting to grate on his nerves.
“Let’s ask them to box up our meals and just go home. We can eat, then you can get a good night’s sleep. Maybe we could relax in the hot tub for a bit to help you unwind?”
Rhett shook his head as the edges of anger started to take hold. This sucked. He hated all this in-between. He couldn’t physically be in Virginia with his team when they needed him. He couldn’t be mentally present with his wife when she was sitting across from him.
“As tempting at that sounds, I’ve still got hours of work ahead of me tonight. As soon as we get home, I need to get back to it.”
She let out a long sigh, seemingly defeated. “Why’d we even come out tonight if you were just shoehorning me in between work calls?”
“Tori.”
“No. This is stupid. If you need to go back to Virginia, just go. I’m sure Quinn can find a flight and still get you out tonight. That would honestly be better than feeling like I’m another thing you have to check off your to do list,” she spit out.
He didn’t understand why their conversation was escalating so quickly. He needed to recover and turn things around.
“I’m here because I want to be here, V. I need to be here for you, for Monday,” he reminded her. He reached across the table to take her hand.
She recoiled and sat up straighter against the back of the booth. “Don’t use me as an excuse, Everhett. Not now. Not ever. If you told me you needed to go back and be in Virginia this weekend, I would have no problem with it, and you know it. I know you’re itching to be there and take care of this.”
She was relentless. Why was she so insistent?
“It almost sounds like you want me to go.”
She grimaced at his accusation. “What? Why would you say that?”
“Do you have other things you’d rather do this weekend than spend time with me, V? Who are you going to call up to hang out with tomorrow if I’m conveniently back in Virginia? You seemed to be having a good time hanging with Jake and Haas this morning, so I guess I have a pretty good idea about your backup plans.”
Her eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second as she physically recoiled. “Stop it,” she scolded in a lowered voice as she shook her head back and forth over and over again.
What the hell? Why was she worked up and defensive about him mentioning Haas? She knew he didn’t like him. He didn’t trust him. They both knew the other man was standing outside this very restaurant tonight, probably eager to open her car door and call her by her full name as soon as they left the restaurant.
Fucking Fielding.
She raised a hand to her face, rubbing it across her forehead a few times before sitting back up to look him dead in the eye. “You’re exhausted. You’re stressed out. You’ve been drinking most of the day.”
He knew it. He fucking knew it. She couldn’t let it go without getting in her own jab. A jab that cut like barbed wire, creating more damage the longer he let it fester in his mind. He hadn’t been drinking “most of the day.” He couldn’t have been. He’d gone on a ten-mile run that morning. He’d met up with her at lunchtime.
“It’s time to go home,” she declared, rising to her feet and walking over to the serving station without giving him another opening.
