Page 15 of The Logic of Loyalty

“What’s actually going on with you? How are you, really? You have so much you’re juggling here, and things can’t be easy at home, with Paige working those extra hours …”

I straighten up at the mention of my wife. It feels wrong at this moment. “Paige has been working longer hours.”

“And with a child, that must make things difficult.”

I consider what she’s saying. Because, yes, it does. “She has been more distracted than usual. Her longer hours have her gone before I’m back from my runs, and when she gets home, she barely has energy to get our boy settled before she’s asleep herself.”

“That sounds tough.”

I miss her. “It feels like she’s drifting away from me, and I don’t know how—” I pause and pick up the pen and click it a few times before looking back up and meeting Krista’s concerned gaze.

“What is it, Trev?” She reaches out and grasps my hand with her own, stopping the clicking. “You can tell me.”

I drop the pen with a clatter and squeeze her small hand lightly. She’s been an incredible assistant and a reliable friend. The time I’ve spent with her has shown me a more confident version of myself at work that I didn’t even realize I had. Richard even told me that he was “impressed with the dedication” I’ve been showing. It almost makes me reconsider the path I’ve started on. Almost.

Krista has been a light spot in this miserable place.

Just last week, my father came to me with questions about the Mendez loan, and she managed to distract him with some bullshit about a wedding her mother is going to with some important guests. According to her, he was very interested in hearing the details of the guest list. Krista threw me a wink as she walked him away from me, patting his arm.

A sound in the hallway makes me drop her hand and clear my throat. “Thank you, but it’s all good. Just real life and me loving my wife to distraction.”

She smiles at my reaction and pats my hand. “Of course.” She leans back in her seat and crosses her legs. “I have some fun planned for the Fourth of July.”

“That’s good.” I check the time and see that the period I allotted for lunch is already done. We also finished a couple of things that were allotted for later this afternoon.

“I have a friend playing at a bar in Edgewood.”

“Oh? Pour Decisions?” I look up to see her nibbling on her lip. “That sounds like fun. Who are you going with?”

She shakes her head. “No one. I’m going alone.”

“Krista, Edgewood is a bit different from Briar Ridge. It’s bigger, and there’s that biker club. The Iron⁠—”

“Aw, Trevor. Are you worried about me?” She smacks my arm and giggles. I roll my eyes. “Well, I would take your sister, but she said she’s too busy. I’m going to have a blast. They also have a half-off pitcher deal to celebrate our independence.”

“How the hell does that make any sense?” I pack up my lunch and pull a new file toward me.

“It’s America, Trevor. We love a good half-off deal. Anyway, I’ll just get a ride-share home when the concert is over. It’s going to be so much fun.”

Wait. “You’re taking advantage of cheap beer, going out on a busy holiday when a band is playing, and expecting to be able to get yourself home with one of the few ride shares available in our county? That’s a terrible plan, Krista.”

She pouts. “I promised them I’d make it, and I have to keep my word.”

“Okay, keep your word and be smart about it. Don’t risk your safety.” Who the hell watches over this woman?

“Well, you could always come with me.”

The invitation makes me blink. “Me?”

She grabs my arm. “Yes. We would have so much fun.”

I shake my head. “No. Sorry. You know I can’t.”

Krista nods solemnly. “You probably need to make dinner for when Paige finally gets home from Josh’s.” I’m taken aback by her reasoning. I search her blue eyes for whatever the fuck she means by that. The only thing I find is sympathy. So why did it sound bitter? Triumphant? I didn’t like that tone.

“Well, I’m done eating. Go ahead and head back to your desk and sort the files I left there before lunch.” I stand up, only to realize how close her seat is to mine.

“Knock knock,” a voice I’ll never get enough of calls from the doorway. The tension that has filled me since I returned from my run melts away.