I reach for another piece, my mind churning. Dennis has his share of faults, but betraying his employer seems crazy. He said he really wanted to work at OWM. Why throw it all away on a stunt like this?
Jana offers a few pieces of advice on how to handle some of the divas at the firm. I try to pay attention; it's important, plus I feel like she may actually quiz me later.
"Most significantly," she says, "if you can't handle something, you come to me. Actually, come to me about everything. I hate surprises."
"Even good surprises?"
"Even then. Just imagine: someone says, 'Great job,' and I have no clue what they're talking about."
I see her point.
"Your job is to do what I tell you and be loyal. To me, if that's not clear. And my job is to bring you along and protect you."
"But I'm just a junior assistant. I don't rank that high."
She munches on a piece of pickled ginger root. "So?" She peers at me. "You aren't going to be a junior assistant forever, right?"
"No."
"So how are you planning to advance if you don't have somebody mentoring you?" She glances down at her clean plate. "Ready? I have a meeting in ten."
"Sure."
She pays, and we leave. As we walk back, my phone rings. Jana glances at my purse. "Take it. I'll see you upstairs. Get three copies of the light crude analysis memo ready for my two o'clock. The research team should have it."
"Sure. See you soon," I say to her back as she walks briskly away. She always moves like she's five minutes late to a meeting that will alter the course of history.
I plunge my hand into my bag and pull out my phone, already hitting the green button. "Annabelle Ree-"
"You fucking bitch!" Dennis's rage explodes in my ear.
I flinch and almost drop the phone.
"It's all your fault! I told you! I told you!"
"You stole from the company," I say.
"I didn't steal shit. You fucking cunt! If you just did like I told you, I would've been fine."
"I'm going to hang up now. Don't ever contact me again," I say coolly, remembering Jana's warning. Elliot has never liked Dennis either. And right now I have zero reason to be compassionate.
"I'm going to make you pay!" my ex bellows. "Dad should've shot you too!"
My hand flies to my mouth. My stomach knots, and the lunch I had with Jana roils threateningly. I clamp my jaw, my breath hissing through my nose. There's no way I'm throwing up on the sidewalk less than a block away from the office.
Heartrending pain and wrath battle inside of me. Wrath starts winning. If Dennis were in front of me, I might actually launch myself at him to rip his face off.
"Listen to me, you son of a bitch," I hiss. "It is not my fault your father was a murderer. It's not my fault you lied on your job application, and it sure as hell isn't my fault you tried to betray Gavin and got caught. Want to blame somebody for the mess you call a life? Why don't you look in the mirror? And the next time you contact me, I'm going to sue you for harassment, mental anguish and anything else I can make stick." I hang up, then power down my phone. My hands and legs are shaking, and it's an effort to remain upright.
I blink away sudden tears. The memory of how I lost my parents floods me, bringing a fresh wave of pain.
I take a seat on a bench and breathe deeply until I'm calm enough to go back to work. Then I throw myself at my mountain of tasks, trying to shove Dennis's hateful words out of my mind.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Annabelle
By the time I'm home, I've almost forgotten the ugly phone call. Dennis is hateful, maybe even a little deranged, and I won't let him ruin my time with the two people I care the most about in the world.
With a smile pasted on my face, I open the door and walk in. "I'm home!" I call out, dumping my purse on the counter.
"Hey." Elliot gives me a quick kiss on the mouth.
I grab hold of one muscled arm and kiss him back. The greeting makes the odd and disturbing day at work worth it. It's impossible to stay troubled when I have a hot husband waiting for me at home. Especially when he's in a one of those tight workout shirts that shows off his thick chest and ridged abs, and jeans that mold to his butt, and when I can smell the warm, clean skin that I want to nuzzle for hours …
But instead of being affectionate or salacious, he looks agitated when he pulls back.
An alarm bell clangs in my head. Dennis again? "What's wrong?"
Elliot takes a step back. "The details of the deal behind our marriage became public half an hour ago. And it's trending."
"What are you talking about?"
He hands me his phone. I read the article.