Page 29 of Croc Food

But nothing could be clearer than this chicken avocado wrap that she hadn’t forgiven me. Not all. That she didn’t believe me that I wanted her to be herself.

I had been so wrong. I had fucked up so badly that she didn’t even want to give me all the parts of herself anymore.

There was a huge lump in my throat and I had to swallow past it to put the wrap to my mouth.

Tears prickled at the corner of my eyes and my tie was too tight.

The inane babble of my coworkers washed over me. Whose golf game was better, whose clients were richer, it all was so shallow and materialistic, and I couldn’t believe I’d hurt Bitsy’s feelings and seriously jeopardized my marriage over wanting to be accepted by these chuds.

My boss suddenly barked in surprise, making me jump.

“Now what the hell is that?”

I looked over at Zach’s lunchbox, and saw his food was set on a bed of soft leaf lettuce, and it was Bitsy’s classic Halloween feet loaf—meat loaf shaped to look like a foot with little water chesnut toenails.

“Did your woman make you that?” Mr. Van Buren asked.

Boy, he really was awfully fussy for a man who swore milk right from the udder was the best.

“Yes, isn’t it cute?” Zach lied nonchalantly.

What the hell!

I leaned closer. I would recognize my wife’s artistic craftwork anywhere, but how the hell had it come to be in Zach’s lunchbox?

“My wife made that,” I interrupted angrily, breathing hard.

“Now, don’t try to steal his wife’s thunder,” Mr. Van Buren admonished me.

“Admit it!” I snarled, bolting out of my chair and grabbing Zach’s tie. “Bitsy made that! You don’t even have a wife, so stop trying to steal mine! I see everything you’re doing!”

Zach glanced around at where every single other employee as well as the local business leaders were staring at us.

“Yeah, so what? You didn’t appreciate your wife. I am standing ten toes down on this very adorable lunch.”

“How did you get that?” I insisted, wrapping my hands around his throat as people started to make squeaky little “oh no” and “don’t do it, Chadley” type of noises.

Mr. Van Buren looked like he would’ve loved to throttle me, only I knew his deep, dark secrets so he couldn’t. The only person I’d told had been Bitsy, but if I told anyone else. . .

He’d be fucked.

“I did want a red-blooded alpha male who can manage his home life. A killer at home is a killer in the boardroom. So this is very interesting. If Zach could steal your wife, that would’ve been a point for him.”

He leaned back in his chair, like we were two gladiators he had just commissioned to fight each other.

“He won’t be stealing my wife!”

I put Zach in a headlock and gave him a noogie until he was yowling for me to stop. My bro outweighed me by maybe forty pounds, but I was several inches taller and I made sure to fuck up those pretty-boy blonde curls.

My boss obviously was trying to save face.

“Chadley is my next VP,” Mr. Van Buren said, and suddenly I wanted to puke. “You obviously have command of your wife and run a tight ship at home. That is a very prized quality to me so congratulations, son! Let’s all give a round of applause to my next VP of Marketing.”

But I was done. Done as hell.

“I quit,” I said firmly.

“You what?” Mr. Van Buren barked uncomprehendingly. “I’ve just offered the VP position to you!”