Page 1 of Yes to The Holidays
Chapter 1
Janie
“What a prick.” I rolled my eyes at the email from Donald. So pretentious. So misogynistic. Our divorce couldn’t be final fast enough. It was bad enough I spent ten years with him, and now I was stuck here at this job still having to see him almost daily and be copied into his emails.
I worked my ass off with this company and took it from ground floor to a Fortune 500. I was woman enough to admit he assisted as well. Our boss from our last job, where Donald and I met and started dating, wanted to open his own cyber security business and took us and one other employee out to dinner to discuss the business plan eight years ago.
I had been out of college two years with only that company as experience under my belt, so it was scary to imagine branching out with an unknown startup, but Eddie’s business plan seemed solid and his passion was contagious. There was no doubt I could do the job, but I was scared of not having the stability of regular hours and benefits. I still had student loans and was barely scraping by to afford my tiny studio apartment and ramen noodles.
We all thought it over for a week, and Donald and I imagined what could be. What if we could help Eddie carry out his plan? Looking back, it was probably the excitement of the idea of something bigger than us, but Donald proposed, citing how smart it would be to live in one apartment together and have one car. Plus, initially, a lot of our work with the new company was remote until we were able to show investors a little bit of success.
I leaned back in my executive chair and turned to look out of my window-lined corner office. I just barely made out my reflection. My perfect pencil skirt paired with my white silk blouse and black stilettos. My chestnut hair was in a conservative French twist which would come down immediately once home.
We had grown beyond our wildest dreams, and Eddie had rewarded us greatly. He was featured in several magazines as one of the best men to work for in the country and things of the sort. Which was all true.
Not to mention he was a good friend. That had put him in an awkward position, to say the least. Eddie had an open discussion with Donald and I once he learned of the split and made it crystal clear that as long aswedidn’t let it affect our work, he wouldn’t let it affect it either. But on a personal level, he sided with me and was disappointed in Donald.
It was our fault there was not a policy about interoffice dating. Eddie knew we would only go with him together, but at the time, it seemed nothing would come between us… apparently, something could.
Her name was Shelly, and she was a new intern that had since been hired. Donald pushed for her to get the position and it wasn’t long after she did that I caught them in the control room with his pants around his ankles and her on her knees in front of him.
He, of course, said he could explain, but when I wasnotinterested in hearing anything, he admitted it and agreed a divorce would be best. As soon as we both hired attorneys, he started openly dating her.
The office was large, and we both were heads of different departments, so I didn’t have to see him often. Usually, Eddie ran interference, but occasionally I had to be looped in on executive level memorandums.
It was uncomfortable every time I ran into him or her, or even saw his name pop up. But I’d be damned if I let him run me away from what I worked so hard for all this time.
The ringing phone drew my attention away from the city skyline. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Tanner, your attorney is on the line.”
I straightened. “Send it over, thank you.” Clearing my throat, I waited for the line to transfer. “Tom, hey. What can I do for you?”
Tom’s wife wasourfinancial advisor, and he was quick to take my side when he learned everything. “We have a mediation date. Since you both have decided to split things down the middle and sell the home, it should go fairly smoothly. But, Janie,” he said with a sigh, “do you really not want to sock it to him? For Christ’s sake, he barely tried to hide his infidelity.”
I tapped a pen on the mahogany desk. “No. I just want to be done. I don’t need anything from him and don’t want to have to drag this out. I just want to move on.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure, it’s next week. Wednesday. I’ve confirmed with his fleabag representation.”
I leaned in, looking at the calendar. “Tom, that’s the day before Thanksgiving.”
The line was quiet.
“Okay, I said I wanted fast. Thank you, Tom. Will you send me the details via email?”
We ended the call. I suppose it didn’t matter. It’s not like I had a date for Thanksgiving now, anyway. Or the holiday party. Or Christmas. Or Valentine’s Day.
Blowing a breath through puffed cheeks, I added the date to my calendar and sent a message to Eddie.
Finalizing divorce next Wednesday. Will be off in the afternoon.
A response came quickly.
Got it. Need a friend?
I replied back with a “no thank you” but reminded him I was off the Friday after Thanksgiving as well. I would need a day to recover after a lone dinner with my family.
I could hear it now…“you’ll be a spinster!”
