Page 9

I thought neutral ground could be a good spot to review our notes. It was time I put my personal strife with Lexington aside and focused on work. After talking with Jackie and thinking over the past four years with Lexington, I realized I hadn’t been a good boss. I had let personal misgivings and grudges keep me from being a good manager.

I had to leave it all at the door. At least while I was on the clock, my personal feelings had to wait. The grudge itself was permanent—something carved so deep into my soul it would probably burn there forever. But I could manage a mask. I could put on a fake smile whenever he walked into the room and pretend we were just two professionals doing a job. I was nothing if not excellent at concealing the parts of me I didn’t want to share.

The coffee shop I chose was just down the street from the office. It was the one most of the company picked when needing a change of scenery. It was cozy, in the same way bookstores and thrift stores were. The exposed brick walls with the mismatched chairs and tables made the space eclectic and welcoming. The scent of coffee beans wafted through the space and the quiet murmuring of the patrons complemented the folk music playing over the speakers softly.

I picked up my coffee, taking another small sip, letting the warmth of it wash down my throat. Well… the warmth I imagined it had twenty minutes ago when I had ordered. My grip tightened on the mug as I tried to assuage my anger. It didn’t work. I was doing my best not to blow a gasket over the fact that Lexington hadn’t arrived yet, but it was taking a considerable amount of restraint. I sighed and pulled my notebook from my bag. He could be late and I would just start without him.

I had written out my notes on the small town. It was more than we would ever find online, and I wasn’t in the mood to try and explain to Lexington why I had all the information I did. It was safer to claim I had started researching early. It was a lie, of course, but it was better than admitting the details had been rattling around in the back of my mind long before this case ever crossed my desk.

After another ten minutes, the bell above the door rang as a flustered Lexington hurried in. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, and his jade-green eyes looked exhausted. His shirt was crumpled, his shoes untied, and his jacket was thrown over his arm instead of protecting him from the rain outside. He spotted me and let out a sigh as he wandered over and collapsed into the seat across from me.

“Hey, boss,” he mumbled, dropping his bag onto the table. He pulled out his laptop with casual, agonizing slowness and set it down. “Where do you want to start?”

I stared at him, flabbergasted. It was one thing to be late; it was another to be so entirely glib about it. “Are you serious right now?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” I repeated, the sheer audacity of his tone making my blood run hot. “You’re thirty minutes late, Lexington. No text. No explanation. Not even a cursory apology?”

I saw the faint twitch in his jaw as he held back an eye roll. He didn't even try to hide his disdain. “Stuff came up. It’s only thirty minutes on a Saturday, no less. Do you have hot plans I’m keeping you from, or are we just doing this for fun?”

“I have respect for my own time,” I snapped. “And I deserve the courtesy of an apology rather than this dismissive attitude.”

“Fine. Sorry, okay?” he threw out, the words dripping with sarcasm. He leaned back, crossing his arms, clearly as tired of my presence as I was of his. “But not all of us have the luxury of being able to show up early to everything. I have actual responsibilities with River, and they take priority over work. You just don’t get it, Goldie.”

I stiffened. “You think I don’t have responsibilities?”

He shrugged—a careless, dismissive gesture. “Your entire life is this office. Of course you can make it your number one priority. I have an actual family that has to come first.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air right out of my chest. The silence in the room suddenly felt deafening.

“Low blow, Lexington,” I whispered. My hands shook slightly as I began grabbing my things, shoving them blindly into my bag.

His eyes went wide as the weight of his own words caught up to him. “Goldie—wait. I didn’t mean… God, I didn’t mean you don’t have family. It’s just different when you have a kid.”

“No, you were perfectly clear.” I zipped my bag with a sharp, definitive tug and slung it over my shoulder. “I don’t have a family. But I still have basic respect for other people. Apparently, you don't need parents to learn how to have manners.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, his frustration boiling over. “That’s not what I meant—stop twisting my words! I was running late because River was screaming, throwing an absolute tantrum about going to Theo’s again. It took me twenty minutes just to get his shoes on, and by the time I finally dropped him off, I was completely frazzled. I didn’t even realize what time it was until I saw you glaring through the front window.” He gestured sharply toward his SUV parked outside. “You have a level of freedom I don’t have anymore, Goldie. It would be nice if you could recognize that.”

I froze, staring at him. The sheer, blinding lack of self-awareness was staggering. “You think I’m free?”

He shrugged again, though there was less heat in it this time. “You only have yourself to answer to. How much freer can a person be?”

“I’m free? You’re the one who is free, Lexington!” My voice cracked, the carefully built walls I’d spent four years maintaining finally splintering apart. “You always have been. You’ve lived with a freedom so heavy and palpable you could afford to be reckless. You could fail, you could screw up, because you had an entire safety net of people waiting to catch you. For years, I’ve only had myself. I never had the luxury of making a mistake, because if I failed, my life was over. Sure, maybe your parents pressured you—but you had parents. You had people who loved you. I had no one. Absolutely no one.”

The words hung in the quiet space between us. I stood up, my chair scraping harshly against the floorboards. Lexington stared at me, his mouth slightly open, completely stunned.

“Goldie, I... things are just harder for me because of River—”

“No,” I cut him off, pulling my rain jacket on and ignoring the sting in my eyes. “It’s not harder. It’s different. Our lives are different, and you don't know a damn thing about mine to claim yours is harder. Don't you dare call me free. And don't you dare act like I don't have responsibilities. I am running a company, Lexington. Every single person's livelihood there rests on my shoulders.”

He raised his hands, completely placating now. “I’m sorry, Goldie. Okay? I really am. It was a brutal morning, and I wasn’t prepared to be berated the second I walked through the door.”

I rolled my eyes, the cold, professional mask sliding back into place. “That’s the tragedy of it. I didn’t want to berate you. I just wanted a simple 'sorry I'm late.' And you couldn’t even manage that.”

He sighed, looking genuinely small. “I am sorry.”

I shook my head, my heart still hammering against my ribs. “Too little, too late.”