“Listen,” he says, “Since Lucy retired, I’ve hired two different assistants. Both resigned—because of you.”
“That’s not true.”
Henry tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at me. “You do realize your resting bitch face can be intimidating to people who don’t know you, right?”
“They shouldn’t look at it, then.”
“Harrison, I swear to God, if you don’t start cooperating?—”
“What? Why does it matter if I let someone touch my stuff? You’ve got most of the work that needs doing anyway.”
“No, I don’t! Look at that fucking pile of contracts that need finalizing.” He flings his hand toward my pile of work sitting to my left. “Have you gotten all the permits? How do you think you’re going to handle your workload and still make it to all the sites to make sure everything’s on track?”
“I’ve been getting it done.”
“Yeah? At what cost? You’re here all the fucking time, and you’ve been grumpier these last six weeks—ever since that conference—than you were before.”
A vice clamps around my chest. I don’t want to think about the conference. I can’t. I wish I didn’t care, but I do. Itbothersme.
“That’s bullshit,” I mutter. “I’m the same guy I always was.” I don’t look at him when I say it because we both know it’s not true.
Whatever Betty did to get so into my mind fucking messed me up. What kind of man has a one-night stand where the woman leavescryingthe next day?
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Was I really that bad?” I don’t realize I said it as loudly as I did until Henry responds.
“You’re not a bad person, Harrison,” he says, yanking me out of my spiral. Even his voice sounds tired.
“I have a fiancée who’s about to become my wife. I have two little girls. I want to spend time with my family. Ineednormal business hours. We can afford to hire someone to do the shit we don’t need to be doing ourselves.”
“It’s hard to find someone competent… and trustworthy,” I argue.
“A lot of it is clerical. You don’t have to let them do the entire books?—”
“I don’t have toletthem do anything,” I snap.
He groans and shakes his head at me. “Please don’t make me bring Layla in to force you to pull your head out of your ass.”
“That’s a low blow. You’re not gonna bringLadybugin here to guilt-trip me into letting you hire someone. I don’t want anyone touching my stuff.”
He stares at me, silent. The seconds stretch on, and finally he stands. His shoulders slump, and his expression is blank. Then, he shakes his head.
“Look,” he says, “I know you don’t want certain things in life. Hell, I thought I didn’t either. You don’t want a wife. You don’t want kids. I get it. But Ido. After everything with Dad, losing him so young… I want to spend every moment I can with my family.”
I tear my gaze away, staring down at my desk. I need a moment.
Losing Dad when I was just twenty—probably the age I needed him the most—still hurts in ways I can’t talk about. I shove the feelings down, force them away.
It must take me longer than I realize because Henry’s voice softens.
“It’s fine. I’ll find somebody part-time. Maybe I’ll use the temp agency.”
He walks out of the office without another word.
“Henry,” I call as he crosses the threshold.
He doesn’t turn back or respond.
That’s probably good, right?
