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“Come on, Trace, get real. This is as personal as it gets. I don’t want to talk to you until I come to terms with your betrayal.”
“My—”
He stopped. It took major effort to squelch the anger. He took a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean for it to seem like a betrayal. I’ve been thinking of ways to put a layer of management between us since we decided to see each other regularly. It’s more prudent.”
“From a business point of view, I understand perfectly. From a personal level, you should have told me so I didn’t find out from a stranger. Common courtesy dictates you tell me first.”
He hung on to his temper with effort.
“If you feel so strongly, I apologize. Maybe, I should have told you. But—”
“I don’t want to hear any rationale. I accept your apology. But this better not make any difference to my plans to move to Europe next summer.”
“I’m making no promises.”
“But you did. You promised I could have that job.”
“Wait and see what the future holds. You may wish to stay home with the baby and give up working altogether.”
“I doubt it. I’ve worked long and hard for my position in the company.”
“I’m doing what I can do to make things easier for you. You need to reciprocate.”
“Then back off. A woman in my condition doesn’t need added stress. So promise me the job. Relieve my anxiety.”
“If that’s what you want, I’ll do my best to see you get it,” he said.
She frowned. “That’s not the promise I want.”
“It’s the best I can do for now.”
“Go away, Trace.”
She shut the door in his face.
He spun around. Blast it, a man had a right to run his business the way he saw fit. If she couldn’t play with the big boys, she was in the wrong line of work.
Chapter Ten
Tuesday afternoon Cath left work early, killing time until her doctor’s appointment. She hadn’t reminded Trace and didn’t want him following her. She hoped he couldn’t remember where the medical building was if she wasn’t there to direct him.
Whatever, he did not attend the appointment.
She met a friend for dinner and tried to carry on as if she didn’t have the biggest secret in the world to share. But she was holding firm in waiting until a little farther along before telling anyone. If she lost the baby now, she couldn’t deal with all the sympathy.
When she arrived at work Wednesday morning there was a stack of invitations on her desk with a note in Trace’s handwriting.
See which we should attend.
Which ones we should attend? If he thought she would accompany him to parties representing the company, he could think again. Take Phil McIntyre.
Cath sorted the invitations almost automatically—putting the must-attends on top. Most of them were for company events to cement relationships for the coming year. When finished, she gathered them up and walked them back to Trace’s office.
“Ellie, Trace put these on my desk. I’ve sorted them with the most important on top.”
“He wants to see you,” Ellie said, already letting Trace know Cath was there.
