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I could have laughed. He thought that had been easy? I’d practically had to beg for the time off. Whatever employment law stated, two weeks off wasn’t the norm at JBQ. I’d followed along with company culture, and only asked for personal time in bite-sized chunks. A string of insignificant two and three-day breaks flashed through my mind. My last week-long vacation had been before I’d gotten together with Sean, and even that had been a camping trip in central Oregon.
“It’s been five years since I had a week off.”
“I get it, Moll, it’s a tough industry.” His placating tone didn’t soothe. “But it would have been easier if you’d stayed so we could work out the details of this promotion first.”
Right. Head of Design. The reminder tugged me in three directions at once. I’d been gunning for the position since I joined JBQ, and he’d finally offered it to me two days ago—along with a pointed hint I should cancel my trip to Scotland. I’d had a second there where I’d almost caved, but I needed this vacation.
I also happened to need the promotion. The extra money would be great, yes, but I also wanted the proof that these last several years had led to something.
Looking out the sitting room window at a pretty cottage garden, I released a long exhale. “I’ll check out your email tonight.”
“Thanks, Moll.”
I would just have to hope for better internet than the lodge looked like it could possibly have. If any building still had dial-up, this one would.
Back in the dining room, I found the men still eating.
“Boyfriend?” Carlos wanted to know when I sat down again.
“Boss.”
“Must be pretty important to be needed already.”
“He just has questions about a client.” I’d been pretty thorough in my notes, but Lincoln always found the gaps.
“Client? What sort?”
“I’m a website designer for a small firm in Seattle.”
“Yeah? What’s that like?”
I broke out my practiced dinner party bio. “I come up with the layouts, fonts, styles, everything that makes a website fun to look at and easy to use.”
Not that I’d made anything remotely fun since I’d started with JBQ nearly ten years ago, but the principle remained. I designed websites. The fact that they weren’t what I’d once envisioned myself doing wasn’t really pertinent.
“What do you do, Rupert?” I asked.
“I’m in banking, myself.” He didn’t elaborate. Maybe there wasn’t anything more to say about a job in banking.
The silence grew, so I turned to Duncan. “What about you?”
“Construction,” was the whole of his response.
Now that he wasn’t smirking over my airport purchases, the man had Resting Murder Face, and I couldn’t look at him too long before my stomach got all twitchy. I couldn’t tell yet if it was good twitchy or bad twitchy.
I turned back to Rupert. “Bea said it’s your anniversary.”
“That’s right, forty years.”
“How do you do it?” Carlos goggled at him. “That’s an age to be with one woman.”
He sounded like a guy who tallied up his relationships in months instead of years.
“Oh, it isn’t all easy,” Rupert said. “It takes a lot of hard work, you know. Compromise and whatnot. But in the end, it’s worth it. I couldn’t ask for more.”
“Rupert! What on earth are you doing, eating all that fat?” As though summoned by his glowing review of marriage, Bea descended on him out of nowhere.
He dropped the scone onto his plate, reminding me of Shatner when I caught him with something he’d stolen off the table.
