Sidebarred(18)
“What other choice did he have, Soph?” Stanton asks. “I sure as shit wouldn’t want you working for a dickhead like that.”
Sofia’s eyes narrow—because she is woman, and she’s never been shy with the roaring.
“Why does Chelsea have to leave a job she loves and the dickhead gets to stay?”
Brent adds his two cents. “She’s got a point, Jake. I learned the hard way not to mess with my girl’s career—remember? On the other hand, Chelsea will be going on maternity leave soon.”
“And she had the option of going back after the baby’s born,” Sofia counters. “But now that option is gone.”
On that note, my phone alarm chirps. Because my ass needs to be in court in twenty minutes.
On the way over, Sofia’s comments start to sink in and I decide to at least give Chelsea a heads-up about what I’ve done. I try to call her, but she doesn’t pick up. If Gavin has half a brain cell, he’ll do what I told him . . . and Chelsea and I will be discussing the aftermath face-to-face.
****
Court adjourns early, so I make it home by four. Early enough to send home the babysitter, who’s usually there when the kids get off the bus. Chelsea typically works until six on Wednesdays, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised that she’s not home earlier today.
There’s a din of chatter around the dining room table as the kids bustle around, simultaneously unpacking backpacks, talking about homework, asking to go to friends’ houses, wondering what’s for dinner, and seeking permission to have a snack. I sit in a chair at the end of the table, legs stretched out, arms folded—eyes glued to the doorway.
Until I hear the front door slam open with a meaningful bang.
And my gorgeous, pregnant wife appears, pinning me down with the blue fucking fire in her eyes.
She breathes out hard through her nose “We need to talk. Outside. Now.”
The kids all freeze midmotion. In any other case, it’d be funny—the way their attention is instantly captured.
“We sure do,” is my simple reply.
Raymond starts to whistle the Darth Vader theme from Star Wars.
As I stand and follow Chelsea toward the kitchen, Rosaleen sings, “Someone’s in trouble.”
“And for once, it’s not me,” Rory points out. “Take note, people.”
****
Through the kitchen and out the back door onto the patio we go. As soon as the door is shut, Chelsea whips around, waving an opened envelope at me.
“What the hell is this? And why did Gavin inform me—through his closed office door, I might add—that you’d given him my resignation?”
I cross my arms. “I’m more interested in hearing about the sexual harassment you’ve been silently suffering for God knows how long and why the hell you didn’t clue me in on it.”
Now she crosses her arms and cocks a hip. “I like my job, Jake—it wasn’t that bad—and I knew you’d make a big deal about it.”
I keep a tight rein on my voice—and my temper—though I gotta say, it’s a battle.
“Hearing that cocksucker tell your coworker how he couldn’t wait for you to blow him sounded like a pretty fucking big deal to me. Guess I’m funny like that.”
She blinks up at me. “He said that?”
My nod is quick and sharp. “And his choice of words wasn’t nearly as nice.” I point my finger. “You should’ve told me you were dealing with that.”
“I was handling it!”
Those four words push me right to the edge. “You obviously weren’t handling it, since the scumbag was still spewing shit about you. That won’t be a problem anymore.”
Her jaw is clenched and her chin is high—and if I wasn’t genuinely fucking furious, I’d be really turned on right now.
“I’m not quitting my job, Jake.”
“You already have.”
“I’m not quitting my job, Jake.”
My voice goes soft, dropping to a lethal whisper. “Let me make this crystal clear. If that fucker gets within twenty feet of you ever again, I will put him in the ground. You’re not going back there. Period.”
Chelsea’s arms flail out to her sides and she yells, “Who are you?”
“I’m your husband.”
“Really? I don’t remember exchanging rings with a fucking caveman!”
I lean down over her, almost nose to nose. “Then you weren’t paying close enough attention.”
She glares up at me for a few seconds; then she closes her eyes and breathes deep, stepping back. When she focuses on me again, the fury has faded—replaced with something more dangerous. Resentment.