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I look at him while he puts his shirt on. He took a quick shower after sex and came back into the bedroom without that shirt on. It’s disgraceful how much I never want him to wear a shirt again.
“I think she’s gone home. But maybe she’s gone to stay with that guy she just met.” I shrug. “Who knows with Frances.”
He watches me carefully. “You would have preferred her to stay longer?”
It strikes me that out of all the men I’ve dated and had relationships with, including my ex-husband, none of them have dug into my relationship with my mother like Jameson is. That’s possibly because I’ve given strong ‘don’t bring it up’ vibes, but I did that with him too, and he chose to ignore all those vibes.
He’s chosen to take a shovel and do the digging for me.
“I would have preferred to have a mother who wants to spend time with me.”
The other thing that strikes me about him? I never have to say very much. He understands without a million words having to be said. And I know by the way the lines on his face settle differently with the new information that he understands perfectly.
He runs his fingers through his hair after putting that shirt on, and with a nod at what I’ve said, he asks, “Do you want a drink or anything?”
This moment feels unlike any after we’ve had sex. Asking me about my mom, asking if I want a drink. I don’t know what to do with these things. These aren’t moves that belong in the Jameson Fox sex playbook.
It’s confusing and I need it not to be.
He’s not getting me a drink.
“No, thank you. And if you’re thinking of stealing another meringue cookie while you’re in the kitchen, you should stop that now. The rest are mine.”
He gives me an amused look. “We’ll see.”
And then he’s gone, and I’m left in a state of “what the fuck?”
I’m sleepy after having sex with him and am hopeful I’ll sleep like a baby, the same as I did last night.
As I snuggle against my pillow, I decide Jameson’s bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.
And I make a note to buy one for myself when I move back home.
* * *
Monday hits like a sledgehammer.
She comes in fast.
She comes in hard.
And she comes in ready to decimate.
Jameson nailed it when he said my decision to be transparent about the factories my company has worked with could wipe billions off my company value.
I erased just over one billion yesterday. Douglas is confident more will be wiped out today.
I spend time this morning on a call with investors, trying to allay their concerns. I assure them we’ll move through this and be stronger for it.
It’s a difficult sell, though. Social media and the tabloids are ablaze today with more bullshit about me. This time around, it doesn’t focus on my family, thankfully. However, it concentrates on whether I’m the right person to lead the company now. There are numerous lies published about my personal life that all tie to an overall narrative that I’m not fit for the job anymore.
Jameson is brought into it.
He is my husband, after all, so they point out he must know all about my shady dealings.
I was ready to answer calls from investors about the company.
I was not ready for this.
