“Really?” A note of desperation bled into my voice, and I didn’t even try to hide it. “What questions should I be asking?”
Dan trailed a barely there touch down my arm, along the bare skin of my stomach where my shirt had lifted, leaving a veil of goosebumps in its wake.
I shivered.
“The only question, as far as I’m concerned, isn’t whether you’ll fail, that doesn’t matter. It’s whether you’ll enjoy the trying.”
Chapter Sixteen
USA Median Value of Annual CEO Compensation, n= 300 sample, large U.S.-traded public companies
2016: $13 million
—The Associated Press (AP)
USA Average Value of Annual CEO Compensation, n= 248,760 comprehensive, all US companies (small, medium, and large), some private, some publically traded.
2016: $178,400
—US Bureau of Labor Statistics
**Dan**
I made Kat breakfast—pancakes, bacon, eggs—the whole nine yards. She’d made me cake to welcome me home, the least I could do was make her the breakfast of champions after what happened last night.
Plus, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about her “problem.”
She had a problem.
She thought it was a big problem.
However, as I thought about it, sipping my coffee as the sun rose over Lake Michigan, it didn’t seem like much of a problem to me.
Some couples go hiking.
Some cook together.
We’d be making out and giving each other sexy massages all in the name of mental health.
For the life of me, I couldn’t see a problem.
Granted, I wouldn’t tell her that. Early in my life, my four sisters had taught me the last thing I ever wanted to do was trivialize a lady’s emotions. Kat was tied up in knots about the whole thing. Okay, I could see that. Kat might’ve been tough, but I would validate the shit out of her feelings insomuch as she needed me to.
Meanwhile, I would look forward to untying those knots, then tying her in different knots.
What I was tripping over was as follows: did this mean I was exploiting her problems for my personal gain?
. . . I had no idea.
Maybe.
Probably.
In order to cauterize potential guilt, I reminded myself it would be a symbiotic relationship. And like all symbiotic relationships, this would be to the advantage for each person involved.
See? Everybody wins!
You just win the most.
When Kat emerged from her room, she was already dressed and ready for work. Her hair was meticulous, her makeup like something out of a magazine. Her pants even had those creases down the front. Her shirt was ironed and starched to such an extreme degree, her collar looked dangerous, so stiff the points could be used as a knife or a weapon.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked, moving to intercept her for a light kiss, and fighting the urge to mess her up a little, smudge her lipstick, run my fingers through her hair, and wrinkle her starchy shirt.
I didn’t. But I wanted to.
She gave me a stiff smile as we separated and held out a slip of paper, her eyes distant in a way that had me frowning. “It’s Dr. Kasai’s number, my therapist. I’ve emailed her your phone number and asked about setting up a time for us to talk.”
I took the slip from her, noticing it was folded so precisely none of the edges overlapped. “Thanks.” I glanced between her and the paper. “Do you want me to call her this morning?”
“Yes,” she blurted, then sighed wretchedly, her façade of calm cracking as her face crumpled. “I’m so so—”
“Nope. None of that.” I swept her into my arms, crushing her to me and kissing her again.
This time I did smudge her lipstick, and I pushed my fingers into her hair, grabbing a fistful to angle and open her mouth like I wanted as I backed her against the kitchen counter. And I grabbed her ass, because I wanted to.
She moaned into my mouth, scrambling to get closer, her nails digging into my back through my suit shirt as I teased her tongue, ending the kiss with a frisky bite of her lip. I leaned away, admiring my handiwork.
Her mouth was pink, devoid of paint, and a little swollen; her hair was disheveled; her eyes dazed.
Her shirt wasn’t wrinkled.
But mine was, and that was even better.
We drove into work together and made plans to meet up after. She reminded me that the gang was scheduled to go to Fiona and Greg’s to clean the place, do laundry, and watch the kiddos so Fiona and Greg could catch a nap.
The day went as planned. I printed out a copy of the postnup to review with Kat when we had a chance. I’d made some changes, nothing huge, but I still wanted her to see them just in case she wanted something different. I thought about calling Kat’s Dr. Kasai, but decided to wait until she was around, so we could do it together.