Chapter 41
WORTH
Iclose the door to the small conference room off my office and face the board of three internal directors, two externals, and the two I actually trust: Henson at the far end, Griffin beside him, arms folded.
“I’ll be brief,” I say, palms flat on the table.
“Mya is presenting Project Rebuild this morning. She’s my wife.
You all know that. Here’s what else you should know.
” I let my eyes cut across them. “She earned the slot. She ran the modeling. She built the partnerships. If her last name were anything else, I’d say the same thing I’m saying now. ”
One of the external directors shifts uncomfortably.
“You will evaluate the deck, the plan, and the numbers. Not the ring on her hand. You will not rubber-stamp it because she shares my address.” I pause. “And you will not make her climb a steeper hill because of it either.”
I can almost hear them doing PR calculus in their heads.
“She gets the same treatment as any candidate. No gentler. No harsher. That’s the standard. We clear?”
Henson’s mouth twitches. Griffin nods once.
A director clears his throat. “Mr. Miller, to avoid any perception issues, I assume you’ll be recusing yourself?”
“I already signed the recusal,” I say, sliding copies toward them. “I won’t be in the room. The board coordinator will chair. You have what you need. You also have my expectations.”
I hold each of their gazes in turn, then straighten. “That’s all.”
Chairs scrape and they file out, except Henson and Griffin.
When the door clicks shut behind the last director, my brother drags a hand through his hair. “All right, Worth. You want to tell us what’s actually going on?”
“Nothing is ‘actually’ going on.”
Griffin gives me a look I’ve known since we were kids. “What happened?”
“And don’t give us the CEO version,” Henson adds.
I exhale through my nose, staring at the grain of the table. “Mya and I fought this morning.”
“About the board?” Griffin asks.
“About all of it.” My jaw tightens. “She said she’s worried the board will fund the project because she’s Mrs. Miller, not because she deserves it.
She also said when our arrangement ends, I’ll still be me, and she’ll be the ex who people think slept her way to the top.
That we could never work outside of this. ”
Henson’s brows lift. “And what did you say?”
“I told her she’s wrong. I thought she saw me and not just this stupid fucking deal we made.” I shake my head.
Henson and Griffin trade a look. Griff leans forward, forearms on his knees. “Be straight with us, Worth. Are you in love with her?”
The answer is so obvious, I barely have to think about it. “Yes.”
Henson lets out a slow breath, like he’d been waiting to hear it out loud. “Okay.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I add, before either of them can say anything else. I keep my voice even, because if I don’t, I might lose my composure. “She doesn’t feel the same. So I’m going to do what we agreed. I’m going to see this through, give her what we promised, and give her the out.”
Griffin’s mouth flattens. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
Henson nods, surprisingly fierce. “Mya cares about you. It’s written all over her, man. You’re the only one pretending not to see it.”
A humorless laugh scrapes out of my throat. “If that’s caring, she’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“She’s scared,” Henson says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Griffin agrees. “The woman moves into your house, takes your kid seriously, then fights you because she wants her work respected, not your name to carry her. That isn’t indifference, Worth.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. The room smells faintly of coffee and the lemon oil the cleaners use. The mix is giving me a damn headache. “I’m not going to argue feelings with you two.”
“Then don’t,” Griffin says. “But don’t lie to yourself either. You’re still trying to control the situation, and you think honoring the deal means you have to pretend you don’t want more.”
I look at the closed door. “We made a promise. I keep promises.”
“Keeping a promise and killing something good aren’t the same thing,” Henson murmurs quietly.
I cut my gaze back to him. “I’m not pushing. I’m not going to beg her to want me. I’ll just keep pretending until it’s over.”
Griffin stands first, sliding his chair in with military precision. “You’re like my brother, so I’ll say this once: you’re being a fucking idiot.”
Henson nods in agreement and claps my shoulder before heading to the door.
They leave me alone in my office, and I stare at the table until the wood blurs.
I pick up my phone and open Mya’s message from earlier.
Mya:
I didn’t mean what I said this morning. I’m sorry.
I read it once. Twice. My thumb hovers over the keyboard uselessly.
I put the device facedown, the apology burning a hole on my desk. Then I stand, button my jacket, and step out of my office.
Mya is crossing the lobby with her folio, shoulders straight as she readies to face the board.
I don’t go after her.
Instead, I take up my post in the hallway, pretending to scroll through emails.
I last ten minutes.
Then I find myself drifting down the corridor toward Conference B, and take a peek.
Mya stands at the head of the room, her back to me.
Slide light washes the wall: neighborhood heat maps, phased budgets, a tidy “Q3–Q4 ROI” in the corner. Her voice carries just enough through the door seam to reach me.
“As you can see, the risk is front-loaded, but so is the goodwill. The model compounds not just financially, but reputationally.”
A director leans in. Even from out here, I can tell she’s got them.
Then, as if she can feel me through the glass, she turns and her eyes find mine. I give her the smallest nod I’ve got.
Mya answers with a timid smile then pivots back to the board, clicking to the next slide as if she hasn’t just knocked the air out of me with a look.
I step away from the window before the coordinator can scold me for hovering.
Damn, I’m proud of her.
My phone buzzes the second I turn the corner.
Ryan:
Court just got advanced. The judge had an opening. Hearing is set for two days from today. I’ll come by your office this afternoon to review the files and prep strategy.
Fuck. Two days? We weren’t scheduled to see the judge for another two weeks.
My stomach flips. The case has been a drumbeat under everything, but now it’s real.
I text Ryan my reply. Before slipping my phone back into my pocket, I consider texting Mya back, but I still can’t find the right words.
Instead, I turn toward my office to pull the custody files. If I can’t stand beside Mya in there, I’ll damn well be ready to stand in front of Vanessa in court.