Page 11 of Book Club Confidential

Her pace slowed as the boss’s office, then the conference room came into view. The lights were off in both.

“Golf.” Nina leaned into view from her cubicle. “Peyton scheduled a tee time, waited around for Xavier to arrive, then told him not to bother sitting down. I saw it with my own eyes. They turned tail and left together. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“That little—”

Nina raised a finger to her ruby-red lips, then cast her pointed gaze toward the other cubicles. Workers at nearby desks would overhear anything they said. People were nosy. Tessa knew that was true, because she was one of those people.

Elaine, the group’s finance manager, headed their way with a purposeful stride.

Tessa and Nina hurried to meet her in the adjacent hallway, several feet from the nearest desk.

Deep creases formed on Elaine’s forehead as she spoke. “Five men left this office, and then seven hundred dollars was charged to the business account within an hour. All before nine in the morning.” She shook her head. “I get questioned biweekly when I order donuts and coffees for the office at a quarter of that cost.”

“Tell me about the patriarchy without telling me,” Nina said.

“Mm-hmm,” Elaine drawled. Color pooled into her dark-brown cheeks. As someone twice Tessa’s age, Elaine had long ago reached her limit on inequality in the workplace, Tessa assumed. The feeling had spread far and fast in Tessa’s heart as well.

Maybe someday, someone would do something about it.

Considering all the key players at Hello, Marketing were male, and currently at playtime, this wouldn’t be the day for change.

But tomorrow, Tessa mentally vowed, after the promotion announcement at the gala, a whole lot is going to change around here.

Chapter Three

Tessa left work early to prepare for the gala. There was too much at stake for her to properly concentrate, and she didn’t like knowing the men in her office were out palling around while everyone else was hard at work. When they hadn’t returned by three thirty, she called it a day as well.

The previous night’s rain was still on her mind, too, but she shoved all thoughts of it aside.

Leaving the office before five meant avoiding small-town gridlock, and in turn, arriving home in record time. She considered both a major win.

Her semi-improved mood dropped when her dad’s name and number appeared on her phone screen for the second time that day. She’d completely forgotten his earlier call, and a second call seemed ominous. They usually spoke at night before bed. Two calls in one day, both before the sun set, sent up a warning flag. Something had to be wrong.

She quickly answered the call. “Hi, Dad,” she said, letting herself into her apartment. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is great,” he said, setting her heart and mind at ease.

“I’m glad.” She felt lighter, as she always did when walking through her door. Tessa’s dream apartment cost more than she could afford, but what she could afford didn’t have river views like this place.

Being a single, child-free career woman often had its perks. She could spend her money how and when she wanted. One day she planned to travel too. She’d be completely spontaneous when her workdays weren’t so long.

“It’s good to hear your voice,” he said. “How was your day?”

“Good.” She unloaded her things onto her kitchen island. “How was yours?” She moved through the open space toward the abundance of windows. Her collection of plants appreciated the natural light almost as much as she did.

An airy cream-on-tan color scheme, from carpets and furniture to walls and throw blankets, made the space clean and inviting. The puffy peach-and-sage-green pillows beckoned her to sit down and stay awhile. To release whatever remaining stress her body held and give over to peace.

Hallie called her decorating style boho chic. Tessa thrifted books and art and found handmade treasures at flea markets and estate sales, but she chose carefully and maintained her nature-centric color palette and favored organic materials like wood, twine, and brass.

This was her happy place.

She sat on the couch and put her feet up beside her. “I have a gala to attend later tonight. I’m glad we get to talk early. Why do we get to talk early?” she asked. “You’re not at work today?”

A small pause preceded his answer. “Nah. Day off,” he said.

She fought the urge to gush about the night’s gala or rant about the boys’ club who got away with putting in only half the hours she did. The latter was pointless, and the former could accidentally jinx her. Instead, she homed in on the fact that her dad had taken a day off. He never did that. She’d inherited her height, brown eyes, and die-hard work ethic directly from him. “Why did you take the day off?”

“I had an appointment,” he said. “Nothing important. Annual physical, that’s all. I’m calling because I miss my little girl. You’ve been working so many weekends, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”