Anna’s legs wobbled so hard her heels jackhammered the linoleum.
But shewantedto be okay, so she jutted her chin out. “Just peachy.” She reached for the coffee.
The pot was empty.
Sort of like her life.
A shudder slinked through her body. She yanked open the cabinet where the coffee grounds and filters were stored. The door hinges squeaked. Todd mumbled something about a contract and scurried out of the kitchen, clutching the pie as if it could shield against PMS.
If only monthly hormones were the problem.
Shirley deposited her dirty mug in the sink. Her still-within-military-regs, Clairoled-within-a-millimeter-of-her-roots hairdo tilted toward the pie. “Your latticework’s crooked.”
“I—it—” Itwas. On the middle pie.
Had she really made that pie?
She squeezed the coffee packet so hard it let out apop!Coffee dust billowed into the air.
Shirley headed toward the door. “Need the RR-40s from last week so we can get the trucks moving this morning.”
Normal.“They’re on Jules’s desk.”
Shirley pursed her lips and stuck a hand on her hip. Shirley-speak forI don’t enter toxic waste zones. And she wasn’ttalking about the hazardous waste disposal bins.
Anna winced. “I’ll get it in a minute.”
After Shirley left, Anna started the coffee, cleaned up the dust, and then sliced the middle pie so no one else would notice the lattice problem. She poured herself a fresh cup, then retreated to the lab. Samples were due to arrive from three trucks and four monthly tank checks this morning, and she had to dig through the mess on Jules’s desk to find last week’s jet biofuels release authorizations.
Normal was good.
In addition to their roles as a fuels distributor and specialty engine modifier for the civilian world, RMC was the primary government contractor for fuel supplies for all the military bases in Georgia. Since the military had turned to biofuels in so many of their planes, RMC’s operations had expanded significantly. Which was why Anna had a job at all. She’d been temping around town when Jules found out she had somewhat of a technical background and gave her a recommendation for the lab assistant position that was created about a year ago.
Rex had finished his Monday morning sputtering, so she logged on and fired up her email. While Rex processed her request, she went into Jules’s cube.
To call it a mess would’ve been like calling Minnesota a state with a couple of lakes. But Anna didn’t have the nerve to take her label maker to Jules’s Leaning Towers of Important Crap. Instead, she rummaged around the top layers until she found last week’s documentation. She popped back into her own cube, which had to be hers since it was neatly organized, and she checked her email, which also had to be hers since her fingers knew the password.
Her heart gave a sputter that matched Rex’s Monday morning grumblings.
Finally, Neil was talking to her.
She leaned in and clicked the message.
Wanted to let you know my attorney will be in touch. Don’t want to make this difficult, but probably best if you get your own. Want to make sure we do this fair. Neil.
P.S. I’d likemy grandmother’s ring back.
Her heart writhed in her chest as if someone had doused it in gasoline and ignited it, and her throat clogged up from the fumes. She stared at the screen, unable to blink or breathe.
But then her lungs moved, air tickled her nose on its way in and out, in and out, and she felt something else growing inside her.
Something hot and dark and ugly.
She yanked the ring off her finger and slammed it on her desk.
She’d sacrificed her education. Moved three times. Kept his house organized, stocked, and cleaned, all while working the same hours as he had for over half their marriage.
So he could throw her away.
