“Already thought of that, and I’m ahead of you. I’ve got a voice mail into Michael Astor, offering to answer any questions or address whatever reservations he might have. Since he’s in London, he should be in the office in a few hours. I’m hoping I get a call back then, giving us the account.”
“Let’s cross our fingers, man.” But I’m aware that Astor has a reputation as a maverick. He’s not swayed by pressure, and he always does things in his time, in his way.
Finally, the bartender slides two beers, a soda, and a glass of white wine across the bar. After we settle up, Evan and I head back to the women. They’ve grabbed a great table, and the warm ocean breeze tugs at Sloan’s long, loose curls. She looks even more beautiful than ever.
But I can tell right away something is wrong.
Nia gives me a guilty grimace. My wife won’t look at me at all. When I take her hand, she quickly pulls away to grip her wine.
My gut twists. What the fuck happened?
“Baby?” I prompt.
The smile she gives me is as fake as the tits of the tourist sitting at the table next to us in a too-small bikini top. Our meal is served with a steaming side dish of stilted conversation. I’m relieved when it’s over and we arrive at the airport. Thankfully, Evan seems oblivious to it all. Not shocking since he hates socializing.
Nia gives me another apologetic grimace, but there’s no opportunity for her to tell me why she’s sorry. So with a last wave, I lead my wife into the airport just in time to board the plane and take off.
Once we’re in the air, she inserts a pair of earbuds, puts on a sleep mask, and tunes me out. I want to insist we have this out now, but a plane is no place for what I’m sure will be a verbal battle. Instead, I try to sleep since it’s an overnight flight. But that’s not happening, and I spend the long, dark hours tweaking potential new budgets for each of Reservoir’s departments so I’ll be ready for my meeting in the morning.
But in the back of my mind, I can’t stop wondering what the hell Nia said to upset Sloan.
I buy the Wi-Fi package and connect my phone. Instantly, I see a message from Nia. I’m so sorry if I messed things up for you. I was trying to be friendly.
Instantly, I text my best friend’s wife back to find out exactly what she said, but pregnancy often wears her out. I’m not shocked Nia doesn’t answer me since it’s after nine p.m.
By the time we land in Dallas—two hours past schedule—I’m pissed and exhausted. I’m also going to be late for the first of my meetings with Reservoir’s new hand-selected executive team.
Fuck.
I have to talk to Sloan now, despite the fact she’s gathering her carry-ons and getting ready to walk off the plane. “Baby? Tell me what’s wrong. What did Nia say that upset you?”
The stare my wife gives me is so blank and empty it freezes me. The hate is back.
“She let me in on some interesting things about you. Stuff I wish I’d known sooner. But better late than never.” With an acidic smile, she shoves the buds back in her ears and makes a beeline off the plane.
I scramble to pick up my gear and haul ass after her, grabbing her arm when I reach her side at bag claim. “Like what?”
Sloan glares in silence until she sees her suitcase come down the ramp of the carousel. “It really doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing between us does.”
After those ominous words, she heads straight out the door.
“Wait!” I chase after her and pull her close again. “What the hell is going on? Where are you going?” My bag hasn’t even come off the plane yet.
“To finish the job I should have been doing all along.” She jerks away. “I’m going to bury you, Mr. Shaw.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Mrs. Shaw?”
“You’re supposed to be a brilliant hotshot. Figure it out.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m left gaping after her.
What. The fuck. Happened?
I glance at my phone, but it’s still the middle of the night in Maui. There’s no chance Nia will answer my text for hours. And I can’t wait that long to get to the bottom of this shit and fix it.
Finally, my suitcase arrives. I grab it and hail the next taxi, heading straight to the office. I’ve got a suit in my bag. I’ll change there. And if I hurry, I might be able to track Sloan down before I have to start this fucking meeting with all the executives.
Instead, traffic is a snarl, and I arrive at the conference room even later than expected to find all the newly appointed VPs hostile, my wife most of all.