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Monique gave her a genuine smile. “I don’t want to lose you, Tess, but I’m not going to stop you. Hell, I can’t stop you anyway. I agreed to that damn waiting period.”
“Thank you,” Tess said, standing and extending a hand. “And I’m sorry if I got preachy on you.”
“Maybe I needed a little preaching. Maybe I need to quit trying so damn hard. Miles actually said something like that to me, too.” Monique took her hand.
Miles and Oedipus. The conversation between her and Monique had taken a turn off course, and Tess hadn’t addressed the contract clause Miles had placed in the agreement with Upstart. “You need to talk to Miles and renegotiate the contract. I’m not staying, but my Oedipus designs belong to you.”
Monique released her hand. “I’ll call him.”
Tess turned and started for the door.
“Hey, Tess,” Monique said.
Tess turned around. “Yeah?”
“I never said I was sorry, but I am. I shouldn’t have allowed Cecily to tell me my stuff was better when it obviously wasn’t. You’re right about my issue with control and wanting affirmation. I need to do better with that. Thanks for telling me the truth.”
“You’re welcome. We both learned something working together. I learned it’s okay to fail, to be wrong, and to accept who I am.” Tess gave Monique a small wave, and then she turned and left Upstart for good. When she got to her car, she dialed the number she hadn’t dialed in almost two months.
“Hey, Billie, it’s Tess. I’m wondering if Mr. Naquin has filled my old position yet.”
She listened for several seconds, covering the mouthpiece to keep from laughing in relief.
“In that case, I’d like to make an appointment for next week.”
THEFOLLOWINGMONDAYcame with little relief from the now summerlike heat or the ache in Graham’s heart. He had seen Tess Thursday at Ladybug soccer practice, where she treated him with polite professionalism.
Hell, he’d rather she rubbed in the fact she’d scored the Oedipus floats than treat him as if he were just another parent. He’d gotten the message last Monday when they’d parted—business as usual.
He didn’t have to like it though.
The entire time he watched her work with the little girls on the soccer team, he kept thinking, “She’s mine.” But she wasn’t and likely never would be.
She’d never responded to his call or text, and now he knew how she’d felt months ago. Made him feel used and not worth bothering with.
Pair all that with the fact he’d lost the Oedipus account and the shipment of industrial foam was on back order and today was about as shitty as they came. The only upside was that Emily had stopped bugging him about a kitten. Of course, she’d replaced it with wanting him to get married and get her a baby brother, so it really was lose-lose.
“Hey,” Billie said, knocking then immediately popping her head in. “Your first applicant for the art director position is here. Where are you planning to hold the meeting?”
Graham closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed a hand across his face. A dull headache pounded behind his eyes. Cracking open an eye, he saw the clock read 10:00 a.m. Still had a long way to go to finish the day, which would end with a meeting at Frank’s house.
“Uh, I suppose we can do it here.”
“Okay. I put the applicant in Frank’s office, but I can—”
“Nah, that’s fine. His office is nicer. Now which one is this? The one from Mobile?”
“Oh, I don’t think I gave you the file on this one. I’ll grab it and bring it to you,” Billie said.
Graham waited for ten minutes, buzzing Billie intermittently, but she didn’t answer or return with the folder.
Damn it.
He didn’t like to keep people waiting. He’d certainly never appreciated such tactics when he was being interviewed, so he didn’t like to do the same with others.
Rising, he peered out into the recesses of the outer office. Billie wasn’t at her desk and Dave’s door was closed.
“Hell,” he breathed under his breath, walking toward Frank’s office. He’d have to wing it. No other recourse.
