by S Doyle
“The vanilla orchid sounds delicious,” I said with a tight smile.
Prepping the tea would give her something to do while we waited. A way to cover for the fact that Ethan was late. Which wasn’t my responsibility anymore. No more making sure he was on time for things. So no reason for me to feel antsy, which is what I’d always felt when Ethan was late, and it was my responsibility to get him someplace.
Not my responsibility anymore.
A few minutes later she came back with a large white mug filled with steaming tea. She sat again and I took a second to admire her outfit. A blouse that I knew had cost more than a hundred dollars. Pants that were tailored to her exact height, which was tall for a woman. A pair of unassuming nude pumps that I recognized as Jimmy Choo’s work.
She wore no ring on her left hand. Was that a purposeful choice to put her clients at ease? After all, no one in this predicament wanted to be faced with the icon of a perfect relationship sitting directly across them. It would only ratchet up the tension and highlight the deficiencies of the dubious couple in question.
“I should tell you,” I began, “before he gets here, that we probably have different agendas for this meeting.”
Carol’s eyebrow rose. “You understand this isn’t a business meeting.”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to think too hard about what I was doing here. I mean, I knew what I was doing here. These were Ethan’s terms and I agreed to them. This was the price of getting free. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m only doing this because he’s insisting.”
The door opened in a rush and I turned to take him in. He was still sporting the scruff around his jaw. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, as if he’d hastily tucked his button-down into the jeans but hadn’t quite managed to tuck it in all the way around.
I shook my head in dismay, wondering if he’d slept in those same clothes last night. On the heels of that thought, I wondered who he might have been with.
Not that it was any of my business.
One hour. I could do this for exactly one hour.
“Sorry,” he announced to both of us.
Thinking on it, that’s how he started almost all his conversations with me. With an apology. I might have been tempted to feel sorry for him if:
a) I wasn’t SO so over him,
b) he wasn’t usually right to be apologizing.
He took a seat next to me and Carol smiled at him.
“Can I get you something?” she asked him. “Coffee—”
“No, thank you,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I really want to get started.”
“If that was the case, then you wouldn’t have been late,” I pointed out.
I winced. Wow, that sounded bitchy. Passive–aggressive. Mean. Cold. And bitchy. When had I become that person? One more thing to blame on Ethan. Forcing me to become the worst version of myself.
“You’re right. Sorry. There was a reason…I’ll explain later. Anyway, I’m here now.”
There was always a reason with Ethan. This time I managed to hold my tongue.
“Well then, let’s begin, shall we?” Carol said. “Obviously you both know who I am as I come to you recommended by a mutual friend, Daniel. But for the purposes of introductions, I’m Dr. Carol Longmire. I can list all my credentials for you, but that would be boring. Enough to say I’ve spent the past ten years focused exclusively on couples therapy. Obviously I’ve heard and read quite a lot about you both, but I hadn’t realized you were married.”
“Oh, we’re not married.” I snorted. “Did Daniel tell you that we were?”
“No, I suppose I just assumed that beyond the corporate relationship there was a personal relationship.”
“There is,” Ethan said. “We’ve been together…in some way…for over twelve years. Since our freshman year in college. That’s personal. That’s a relationship. That’s why I said we needed counseling.”
Carol turned her attention to me while I focused on my tea. “And you, Julia? Would you call what you have with Ethan a personal relationship?”
“I’d call it something,” I quipped as I sipped my tea.
“That’s her defense mechanism,” Ethan pointed out. “She uses sarcasm like a sword to keep the hordes at bay. You just have to see through it.”
I sniffed. Okay, maybe I did a little. But hordes? Really? That was being overly dramatic.
“Ethan, Julia said she thinks you both have separate agendas today. It’s probably important for me to know what both of those are.”
“I want to fix what I broke,” Ethan said.
I shook my head. He couldn’t. There was no going back. Didn’t he see that?
“I just want out,” I said. Out of my job, away from Ethan. To be someplace where I wouldn’t hurt so damn bad.
“Jules,” Ethan muttered, and I could hear the desperation in his voice, but I couldn’t let it touch me. If I did, it would be too easy to crumble, too easy to cave.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened, then?” Carol said. “What broke you?”
I looked at Ethan and his expression was desolate.
“It’s simple,” I said. “I quit.”
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Also by S. Doyle
The Bride Series
My Super Sexy Spy
Just Call me Jane Series
The Boss Series
Alaska Hot Series
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