I wave a hand, flushing. “You’d be fine.”
“I don’t think any of us would be fine without you,” he says softly. “You’re Super Woman. You got a husband, two kids, PTA nonsense, and work…and you do it all…fabulously. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely keep my dog fed.”
It is so good to hear him say this, especially since I know he means it.
Why can’t Rhys see this? Why can’t he appreciateme? Why does he want me to quit my job, the one that keeps me sane?
“You have a dog walker, so, thankfully, Bruno is going to survive.” I found him a dog walker because Bruno was chewing up the house and going stir-crazy.
He grins, conceding. “Thank God! How’s discovery going on the Fairmont Pharma case?”
“About as well as expected when a billion-dollar company claims theyaccidentally misplacedtwo years of internal emails.”
He laughs—a warm, easy sound that fills the room. “That’s why I keep you around. No one else can make obstruction of justice sound so charming.”
I arch an eyebrow dramatically. “Charm, Mr. Cole, is part of the strategy.”
We work well together. Daniel’s smart, fair, and—most importantly—he listens. When I talk, he pays attention. When I suggest something, he considers it. There’s no ego at war here, no invisible labor.
He glances up from his papers. “You doing okay?”
It’s casual, but the way he asks makes me pause. I open my mouth to say I’m fine, my default, but something about what happened with Rhys makes me say, “Not really. Things are…weird at home.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “What’s going on? Kids okay?”
“Kids are fine.” I shake my head, feeling stupid for bringing it up. “Just…I had to leave in the middle of things yesterday and?—”
“That’s fine, Jayne. Finn was waiting in the cold.”
I nod.
He gives me a measured look and then nods once, pursing his lips. “Ah. You’re pissed with Rhys.”
“Yes.”
He lets out a long sigh. “Finally! Honestly, I don’t know how you haven’t been angry with him all the time. The man is…” He trails off before saying something he’d regret.
Daniel is a lawyer, after all
Everyone in my circle thinks Rhys is selfish. I defend him, obsessively, but lately I’m struggling to do that.
“I’m…managing,” I say finally.
“Managing?” he repeats, smiling gently. “Is that code for…?”
“Exhausted with a side of caffeine dependency.” I try to lighten the mood and tacitly tell him I don’t want to discuss my marriage —not right now, even though I’m the one who brought it up.
His eyes fill with quiet understanding and acceptance. “Should we prep for the pretrial meeting tomorrow?”
“Yes, we should.”
He leans forward, his hands on his desk. “You know you hold this place together, don’t you, Jayne?”
“Someone has to, while you’re out avoiding contempt citations from judges.” I roll my eyes even as I soften inside.
He scowls. “That happened one time.”
“I know. And you’ll never live it down as long as I’m alive.”
