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“Yes.” She pauses. “When I say more time, I mean they think I should spend the majority of my time there for the next few months. So, I wanted to run that by you to make sure it works for the marriage.”
“You want to move there?”
“Yes. Just for a few months.”
I shake my head as I think it through. “No, that won’t work.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “Why not?”
“Because this marriage only works if we’re living together.”
“Okay, so I understand where you’re coming from with that, but surely the marriage can still work so long as we’re seeing each other regularly. I can fly back to New York to visit you, and you can fly to London to visit me.”
“It’s not enough. Bill won’t approve.”
“Perhaps we could test that theory. Maybe bring it up in conversation and get a read on him that way.”
“We’re not testing that theory.”
“So, what, we’re back to you being the one who decides how things will happen? And I just have to go along with it?”
“No, but we have to come to decisions that make sense.”
“This decision makes sense, Jameson. You just need to open your mind to it.”
“My mind is open to everything. But Bill has no doubts about the marriage anymore and I’d like to keep it that way. This plan could fuck with that.”
“Bill knows our work situations. I don’t think he’d blink if I traveled for work.”
“You’re not talking about traveling. You’re talking about moving away for months.”
“I’m also talking about building time together into the schedule.”
A text comes in for me. I know from the ringtone that it’s Shantel. I also know she’s prompting me for my next meeting because it’s one I really shouldn’t be late for.
“It won’t work,” I say firmly. She needs to listen to me on this. And I need to get to my next meeting.
Her lips flatten. “I don’t appreciate you taking that tone with me, and I don’t appreciate you not listening to me. This is important and I’d like to find a solution.”
“There is no solution, Adeline. We have a clear end goal here, and you signed a contract agreeing to the terms. Let’s not fuck this up now.”
Her eyes come to life with a cluster of emotions. Anger, mostly, by the look of it. She snatches her purse off the sofa and pushes her shoulders back. “This conversation isn’t finished.”
“It is.” I check my watch. “I have a meeting to get to. Dinner is at eight. I’ll be home around seven thirty to pick you up.”
“You’ll be lucky if I’m talking to you tonight.”
She exits my office in a cloud of anger and that fucking perfume I need her to stop wearing.
I can only hope she’s come to her senses by tonight.
I loosen my tie and shove my fingers through my hair.
She can’t fucking move to London, and not just because of Bill.
Idon’t want her to leave.
23
