Chapter 11
Bennett
Women are way too fucking sensitive.
I reread an email from Human Resources for the third time.
Bennett,
As you are aware, the recent merger has left many employees feeling anxious about the long-term status of their positions here at Foster, Burnett and Wren. Because of that, statements from management may be scrutinized by employees in a manner that they had not been before. As such, we ask that you, as well as all senior managers, please be cognizant of the sensitivity of your responses to employees. Please refrain from criticisms such as telling an employee that they make “too big of a deal out of things” and to “suck it up.” Although no formal complaint has been filed, these types of comments can be considered harassment and lend to a difficult work environment.
Thank you,
Mary Harmon
I knew exactly who had complained. Finley Harper. Doesn’t the name just scream I have a stick up my ass? This was all Annalise’s fault. Finley was a transplant from Wren, of course. None of my crew had ever gone to HR. Hell, just last week I’d told Jim Falcon I didn’t care if he had to blow the client, I was firing his ass if the CEO of Monroe Paint didn’t come out of the conference room smiling like the fucking idiot he was after our meeting was over.
I shook my head. Annalise and her goddamn color-coding and team spirit. She probably cries along with the people she has to fire. And, come to think of it, where the hell had she been? I hadn’t seen her since yesterday at lunch when I answered the call from her sorry-ass excuse of an ex.
Maybe I should start to say and do the opposite of everything I thought from now on around these people from Wren. Next time Finley spends a half hour complaining that a client doesn’t like designs done to their exact specifications, instead of telling her to suck it up and get back to work, I’ll sit down and ask her how it makes her feel to have a client unhappy with her work. Maybe over some tea.
And Annalise—when she asks me what I think about her so-called break, instead of being honest and telling her that her dick of an ex wants his dick sucked by someone other than her, I’ll explain that it’s normal for men to want a period of separation every so often, and that I’d bet dollars to donuts he comes back a happier and more well-adjusted man because of her understanding.
Wake the fuck up, people.
I hit reply and started to type a response to Mary in HR, then thought better of it. Instead, I went looking for Miss Sunshine who had never delivered the copy for our meeting with Jonas tomorrow.
Annalise’s door was open, but her head was buried in her computer screen. I knocked twice to get her attention and then walked in.
“Before I say anything, are you recording this conversation to bring to Human Resources? If so, let me go back to my office and change into my pink pussy pants.”
She looked up, and it felt like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer to the chest.
Crying.
Annalise was crying. At least she had been recently. Unconsciously, I rubbed at a dull ache on the left side of my ribcage.
Her face was red and puffy, and a streak of mascara ran down her cheek.
I took a few steps back toward the door, and for a split second I debated not stopping. I mean, what could she be crying over? Chances are, it was either work or her ex. I was the least-competent person to give relationship advice to anyone. And work? This woman was my adversary, for God’s sake. Helping her was helping myself right out of a fucking job.
Yet instead of walking back over the threshold, I found myself pulling the door closed—with me still inside.
“You okay?” My voice was hesitant.
Women were always unpredictable, but a crying woman needed to be treated like a wounded puma lying in the plain you’re trying to cross. She could continue to lie in pain, licking wounds inflicted by someone else in silence, or she could decide at any moment to tear into an innocent bystander and feast on him for lunch.
Basically, I was scared shitless of a woman in tears.
Annalise sat up straighter in her seat and started to shuffle papers around her desk.
“Fine. I’m just finishing up the copy for the Venus meeting with Jonas tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t get it to you sooner. I’ve just been…busy.”
She’d opened the door, giving me the chance to bail on discussing anything personal, and again I failed to back up. What the fuck was wrong with me? She was waving the Advance to Go (Collect $200) card in my face; yet I reached out and plucked the Go Directly to Jail card from the pile instead.
I took a seat in a guest chair in front of me. “You wanna talk about it?”
What the fuck?
Did that just come out of my mouth?
Again?
I knew I shouldn’t have watched The Notebook a few weeks ago, but I’d been too hungover to get up and find the remote to change the channel.
Annalise looked up once more. This time our eyes met. I watched as she tried to pretend nothing was wrong and then…her bottom lip began to tremble.
“I…I spoke to Andrew a little while ago.”
The douchebag. Great. Figures he’d hurt her over the phone while she’s at work. Any guy who utters the words “We should take a break” has no balls to begin with.
I had no idea what to say, so I went with as little as possible—less likely I’d stick my foot in my mouth. “Sorry.”
She sniffled. “I tried not to call him. I really did. He sent me a few texts after you answered my phone yesterday, saying we needed to talk. But it was making me crazy to see his texts and not respond.” She laughed through her tears. “More crazy than having my icons in all the wrong folders has made me over the last week.”
I grinned. “You’re welcome. I probably just added three years back to your life by helping you overcome the demons of organizational control.”
Annalise opened her drawer and fished out a tissue. Wiping her eyes, she said, “How many years do I get added back if I fixed them after four days?”
I nodded. “We’ll work on it. Next week you’ll give me your full-page to-do list, and we’ll try to make it five days without you checking shit off.”
“How do you know I have a full-page to-do list?”
I gave her a look that said Are you joking, Captain Obvious?
She sighed. “I bet Andrew knew I’d call him back, too.”
I had no doubt about that either. The guy was a douchebag because he knew what he could get away with and kept her dangling at the end of that point.
“I might be the last person who should give relationship advice, but I do know men. And any guy who ends things over the phone is a jerkoff and not worth your tears.”
“Oh. Andrew didn’t end things.”
“He didn’t? Then why are you crying?”
“Because he asked me to meet him tomorrow after work for dinner.”
I furrowed my brows. “I’m lost. Why is that a bad thing?”
“Because Andrew is a good man. He wouldn’t tell me it was fully over on the phone.” Her eyes started to fill with water again. “He asked me to meet him after work at the Royal Excelsior. I’m sure it’s because he’s going to buy me an expensive dinner before he ends things in person.”
“The Royal Excelsior? Isn’t that the place in the Royal Hotel downtown? I have a client a few blocks away.”
She nodded and wiped her nose.
Okay. So I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. And obviously I was wrong thinking her ex was asshole enough to end shit on the phone. I hadn’t realized the guy was a giant asshole and was going to fuck her first before ending it.
“You shouldn’t go meet him.”
Annalise offered a sad smile. “Thank you. But I need to.”
I struggled with my thoughts. Did I lay it out for her—explain that the guy didn’t want to break things off, he wanted to get laid? Hell, if he was smart—which I was reasonably certain he was, looking at the gorgeous woman sitting in front of me that he’d managed to keep on ice for months—he’d probably manage to let her think the roll in the hay was her damn idea.
Or did I keep my nose out of it? After all, she was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. And she was also my nemesis.
But she looks so damn vulnerable.
“Listen. I already put my thoughts out there about this guy saying he needed a break. So I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say…but be careful.”
“Be careful about what?”
“Men. In general. We can come off as nice guys when we’re really dicks.”
She looked confused. “Why don’t you just spit out what you’re trying to say, Bennett?”
“You won’t fault me for being honest?”
She squinted at me. Yep. She’s going to fault me for being honest. But now I’d opened my damn mouth and was stuck, so screw it.
“I’m just saying…don’t let him take advantage of you. He asked you to meet him for dinner at a hotel for a reason. Unless he’s telling you he made a huge mistake and wants you back, don’t hop into bed with him. Listen carefully to the words he chooses. Saying he misses you isn’t committing to jack shit and might just be to lower your defenses and raise your skirt.”
Annalise stared at me. Her face had been blotchy from crying, but red started to fill in the white spots. She’s pissed.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Just looking out for you.”
“Do me a favor and don’t.” She stood. “I’ll have the copy to you in an hour or two. Is there anything else you need?”
I could take a hint. Standing, I buttoned my jacket. “Actually, yeah. Maybe you can talk to Finley about removing the stick up her ass and coming to me if she has a problem, rather than marching over to Human Resources. We’re a team now—all on the same side.”
She pursed her lips. “Fine.”
I walked to the door and put my hand on the knob before turning back. I never could leave well enough alone. “Also, I’d prefer that copy in an hour, rather than two.”