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“This division runs like a well-oiled machine, Ian. Anyone sitting around that table could step into my position, as long as they don’t change a thing.”
“Can you wait? I’ll finish things up and take the car with you. We can talk.”
“Okay, but hurry.”
She waited out in the hall, sending a text to her driver that she’d be right out. In a minute, Ian returned, his overcoat over his arm.
“How’s the baby?”
“He’s a year old, and he’s wild! He’s doing great. I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”
“Were you serious about me coming home with you?”
She looked at him sidelong, grinning. “You know Dave is there, waiting, right?”
“I know. I hope I can talk you into staying. I’ll do whatever I have to.”
They rode the elevator down to the street level. Katrina’s driver stood waiting at the passenger door.
“I can’t ask you to never make me leave home, Ian.” She slid into the car and then, as she’d figured he would, he didn’t follow her into the car. Smiling, she got it. “I’m not going to Ireland without my family.”
“Bring them!”
“The baby will make everyone miserable on a long flight like that. So, no, thank you.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation on the street,” he said.
“I know. I’ll phone you tomorrow. Thank you for everything,” she said. “I’ll work until you find a replacement. But no Ireland, just an FYI.”
“I was looking forward to showing you around.”
“Maybe when the baby is older we’ll take a trip. I’ve got to go.”
He nodded, shutting the door. She wondered if the self-recriminations would come later, and then she realized she didn’t care. Quitting a job at her level had to be done in one motion, like ripping a bandage off a wound. She’d studied her contract, and it was open-ended with a nondisclosure and no-competition clause.
Later, she’d make nice and offer to freelance for the company. But she wanted her freedom. Marketing was marketing, regardless of the product, and she’d find something else to sell if she had to.
She quickly sent Dave a text. I quit! I’ll phone you after I get through security.
The feeling of lightness was unbelievable, like someone had stuck her with a pin and all the anxiety had left her body.
The car pulled up to the curb. The driver smiled at her and said in a thick accent, “Well done.”
She just laughed. “I don’t like leaving my family,” she said. “I’ll work for myself.”
Nodding, he pointed at the car. “That’s what we do. We work for ourselves.”
Getting through security took longer than usual, the afternoon flights always full and more people jockeying in line. When she finally reached the gate, her flight was already boarding. In line, on the Jetway, she thought about what the future had in store for her and her family. Her son had been born with Down syndrome, and her goal was to make sure he was financially taken care of after her death. They’d started a fund for him, pouring money into it, realizing how lucky they were that they could do that for Davie.
And Dave, wow, what could she say about him? Dave was wonderful. She loved him so much. The recent news about his mother had thrown him, and she hated having to be gone for even a day. They’d deal with it when she got back home. It was what they did for each other—supporting, loving, looking for ways to delight each other.
In less than three hours, she’d be in New Orleans, and another hour home. Eight p.m. was a beacon.
Dave held Davie, kissing him, crooning to him, and the baby smiled between drinks from his bottle. They let him keep the bottle. Life was going to be rough enough for him, and he needed the extra calories anyway. Katrina only produced a little milk after nursing him for a year, but she still loved holding him and letting him nurse when he wanted to, which was becoming less and less.
Nanny Luann puttered in the kitchen, fixing their dinner. “God bless you, Saint Lu,” Dave said. “We can’t stand another take-out meal from Spencer’s, and the last thing I tried to cook, I destroyed.”
“Oh, you’re fine. Katrina loves gumbo and rice, and it’s my specialty, with a Dominican flare.”
