Beneath the Surface(37)

“No, I meant exactly what I said.” Sheryl rose from the sofa and went to stand next to Kristin, close enough to touch her if needed. “I don’t want to stand in the way of your dreams, and if it really is your big dream to move to Hong Kong, then we can discuss it. But the terms you presented are not feasible.”

“More than wanting to go to Hong Kong, I want to fix us,” Kristin said. “I will tell Nigel I expect to be kept at a position similar to where I am now. He doesn’t really have a choice, I’ve been an essential part of the company’s growth and he won’t want to lose me to a competitor. A minor financial loss might be inevitable, but I wouldn’t be traveling as much. And things can go back to how they were before.”

Sheryl was simultaneously impressed and worried. Kristin was actually putting their relationship first and she had managed to find a way to do so with only having to take a minor financial loss. But Sheryl worried that Kristin’s unbridled ambition, that invisible thing that drove her to work her ass off for this company she didn’t even own stock in or shared profit with, would never be fully satisfied. Maybe the kind of drive Kristin displayed could find a much better use if she started her own company. Not a new thought to Sheryl at all, but one she had never voiced out of fear that if Kristin were running her own business, she might actually work herself into an early grave. Perhaps the fact that she was paid a salary, which only went up at certain intervals, was what kept her from going totally crazy and working fourteen hours a day for a boss she only owed eight.

“Maybe we need some new ground rules,” Sheryl offered. “Have a couple of date nights every week.”

Kristin, who was leaning against the dining room table, said, “That sounds like a great idea.”

“But you have to promise me one thing.” Sheryl inched closer, curled her fingers around Kristin’s wrists. “You won’t hold not going to Hong Kong against me.”

“I won’t. I know it’s not right for us.” She slanted her head. “And who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

“Tomorrow will bring Friday and then Friday evening, when I will take you out for a nice date.”

Kristin froze for an instant, the way she did, Sheryl knew from experience, when she was mentally checking her diary. “Can’t wait,” she said, after a beat, and stepped into Sheryl’s embrace.

After a minute-long hug, which always managed to calm Sheryl down, Kristin whispered, “Now let’s talk about you. Do I need to send you to AA?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Sheryl said, injecting a confidence into her tone she didn’t feel. “I’m hardly at the substance abuse stage, and the only thing I like about having a glass of wine is how it makes me feel for a brief moment.”

“How does it make you feel?” Kristin took a step back and scanned Sheryl’s face.

“Like everything will be all right.”

“You don’t need wine for that.” Kristin kissed her on the cheek. “From now on, I’ll be here to tell you.”





2014





Chapter Sixteen





“I’m so, so tired,” Kristin said, very aware she’d been saying the exact same thing every single evening for weeks upon coming home. It wasn’t only a declaration of her mental and physical state, it was also a warning. A warning to the woman she loved: don’t come too close, because I’ve had about all I can handle.

Sheryl looked up from the book she was reading, clapped it shut, and examined Kristin’s face. “Straight to bed?” she asked.

“No.” The only reason Kristin noticed the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table was because her foot bumped into it as she sat down next to Sheryl. “I want to sit here a bit with you.”

“Do you want to talk about your day?” Sheryl asked.

Kristin shook her head. She just wanted to forget about this day that seemed to be never-ending. There used to be a time, not even so long ago, that she would arrive at the office early in the morning, and before she knew it, it was time to go home. The day would have just passed without her noticing, that was how engrossed she had been in work, dealing with one urgent thing after another, and never stopping to check the time, and, more often than not, forgetting to have lunch. That day had not been like that, nor had any others in the recent past. She’d butted heads with management again about which direction to take Sterling Wines into. A management she should have been part of by then, but wasn’t because Sterling Wines had sold out to a big international group two years ago. Kristin’s influence in most matters in which her opinion had always been respected and, more importantly, acted upon, seemed to have dwindled with every passing day.