Chapter 20
Ash
Ms. Besh,
Resignation not accepted.
I'll see you at home.
Ash
I scowled into my tumbler of whiskey while my future brother-in-law roared with laughter.
"This isn't funny," I muttered.
Rob slapped my back as he went on laughing from his barstool beside me at Ginger Man. It was mostly empty, not yet packed with happy hour crowds.
"Shit, man," he said, grabbing the napkin trapped under his pilsner glass and mopping the tears from his eyes. "I needed that today."
"It's not funny."
"You can't see it the way I do," he said.
"If someone came into my office and basically did everything I needed without asking me a single question or even involving me, I'd give them a spot bonus.
" He barked out another laugh. "You, my friend, yelled at the genius running your shit, called that genius an idiot, and compelled her to quit all in one afternoon. "
"I did not call her an idiot." I frowned at my untouched whiskey. "I mentioned she doesn't have the knowledge or experience to make hiring decisions."
Rob held up his hand for the barkeep's attention. "I need sustenance if I'm gonna help you unpack your problems." He chucked the menu toward me. "What do you want? I'm getting the Reuben because we're only eating iceberg lettuce at my house right now and I'm feeling a little anemic these days."
"That's awful."
Rob snorted out a laugh. "I'm counting down the minutes, man."
Once we'd ordered, he shifted in his seat and set his hands on the bar top like he meant to diagram his analysis of my problems. "First things first, you have to get comfortable with other people having a hand in your work.
Yeah, there are times when it might be quicker and less stressful to do it yourself but that's not a long-term strategy and it will choke out your growth.
Teach people what to do and then get the hell out of their way. "
"Did you spend two years getting an MBA to learn that pearl of managerial wisdom?"
"Fuck you. I have an MFin and you know it." He lifted his beer, saying, "And I learned that pearl from my last boss who refused to pay people if I wasn't going to let them do their jobs."
"When you put it that way," I grumbled.
"And it's not my place to say this but if Zelda can work out a way to get Carlo off your back, let her run with it. You can't have your father's business strategy holding you down."
"He'll never go for it," I argued.
"Take a page from the Book of Diana and act first, ask forgiveness later."
"I have a feeling I'm going to be apologizing later regardless," I said.
"Oh, hell yes," Rob replied. "Based on your synopsis, I'd bet you'll be apologizing and groveling and buying a field of flowers tonight. And you'll need to explain you're the only idiot in the situation."
A server set our plates down, plunked a bottle of ketchup between us, and promised to return with another round.
I didn't need any more whiskey as I'd only gazed at this one but I knew Rob would put the surplus to good use.
Better still, he was buying. That was what he'd vowed when I flung myself into one of his office chairs and told him we were having an off-book meeting today.
"You had to know something like this would happen when you hooked up with her," he said between bites. "I wouldn't be able to pull it off, man. Being the boss and the boyfriend? I'd rather originate GSE debenture debt all day."
"Let's not talk derivatives, okay? Especially not the government-sponsored variety. My day has been rough enough."
"Happily." He balled a paper napkin in his hand. "But the fact remains, you work with Zelda, you sleep with Zelda, and you live with Zelda. That takes a whole new kind of managerial finesse unless you want to fuck up your entire life."
I stared down at my plate while Rob plowed his sandwich.
I didn't have that finesse, not a single drop.
And I'd effectively fucked up my life today, I knew that much.
This was why I'd wanted to isolate Zelda in one discrete corner and prevent the lines from blurring but I couldn't enforce that any more than I could keep my mouth shut in bed.
What a fucking mess I'd made. And instead of finally getting one evening without clients or bridal gowns getting in the way, I was here with Rob, dousing my problems in whiskey and french fries.
I'd known I was fucking it all up before I grabbed my things and stormed out like the tyrant Zelda accused me of being.
But I'd still felt an overwhelming urge to keep anyone from destroying the carefully constructed system I had in place.
I needed things to work a certain way and I didn't know what I'd do if it collapsed on me.
Zelda probably knew what to do. She probably had plans and structures to handle that very event in the time it took me to pick out a tie. I couldn't figure out how she did it, how she saw solutions where I'd knocked my head against a wall for a year.
She was right about me not fighting fair too. I'd really fucked up there. I didn't have a good excuse—not that I deserved to be excused—for my reaction. It violated everything we'd agreed upon and I had to fix that. I had to make it better.
Zelda didn't show it when she was hurt. She didn't lash out or melt down. She just took it and I didn't know anything for sure but I had the sense she'd taken more than her share. I hated that, but more so, I hated being another person who did that to her.
"When you say 'field of flowers,'" I started, "what do you mean by that?"
Rob swapped his plate for mine and swiftly yanked the tomato off the burger. "With Magnolia, it's at least ten new houseplants. But that's Magnolia. Houseplants might not work on Zelda. What does she love?"
I was prepared to confess that I didn't know but I realized that wasn't accurate. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and fired off a response to Zelda's newest message.
Ash,
This isn't how resignations work. When someone says "I'm out," you aren't allowed to debate that choice with them.
Please make an attempt at understanding.
Zelda
Zelda,
I understand completely but that doesn't mean I have to accept it. I'll be home soon.
Ash
Hopping off the stool, I clapped Rob on the back, saying, "Good meeting. Thanks for the drink. I gotta go."
Ash,
If you won't permit me to do the work necessary to keep your office moving along, there's no reason for me to work there. I would expect you to know this, given your ongoing concerns for efficiency.
Zelda
Zelda,
Traffic is the fucking worst today and everything is taking twice as long but we need to pause this conversation until I get home. I don't like talking to you when I can't enjoy the faces you're making.
Ash
When I arrived, I searched the apartment until I found Zelda in the most unlikely of places: the dryer.
Rather, only part of her was in the dryer, her legs hanging out the open door.
For the second time in a matter of hours, I asked, "Zelda, what the hell are you doing?"
"Of fucking course," sounded from inside the appliance. "Why can't I ever do these things without an audience?"
I decided I didn't need the details this time. "All right, love," I said, straddling her legs. "Let's get you out of there."
I hooked my only useful arm under her hips and hauled her out, setting her on her feet. She waved a hot pink bra by way of explanation. Then, "Got stuck. Couldn't get it un-stuck. Resorted to desperate measures."
I ran a glance over her body, intending to check for injuries but lingering over jeans and a pale, pale yellow t-shirt she'd changed into since leaving the office. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail that showed off her blue streak. "Evidently."
She wagged a finger—and the bra—at me. "Don't do that. No up-and-down eyes. I'm not having that with you right now."
After banging the dryer door shut, she marched down the hall to the guest bedroom with me following close behind.
Zelda busied herself with a basket of fresh laundry on the bed, angling her back toward me when she noticed me in the doorway. "I need you to stop what you're doing and come with me."
"Ashville." She sounded tired—or tired of me. "I'm busy here."
I clutched the doorframe to hold myself steady. This would've been so much easier if I'd pulled her out of the dryer and then immediately put her in a car with me. "Please come with me. It's important."
"You traffic in importance," she replied. "Forgive me if I'm suffering a touch of importance fatigue."
"You need to let me apologize," I said, knowing precisely how much it would tickle her into responding. Sometimes, I was an asshole and sometimes, she liked that.
"As a matter of fact, I do not." She shook out a towel with a vigorous snap. "And I believe I'm entitled to set the terms and conditions when I'm the one owed the apology."
"I can accept that," I hedged. "But only if you'll let me buy you some pancakes first."
She snapped out another towel. "I know you're all creative with the dirty talk but you've lost me on that one. Not to mention, I'm not having sex with you right now."
Right now was a world apart from not ever.
"I'll admit that makes me sad because I'm sure I could apologize thoroughly if you were interested," I said.
She laughed, a real, true, gorgeous Zelda laugh. "I'm not."
"Right, well." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "We have to leave now. For pancakes."
I left Zelda there with her whip-cracked laundry to change out of my suit and tie. By the time I stepped out of my closet in jeans and a polo, she was stationed in the middle of my bedroom with her hands fixed on her hips.
"I don't get it," she said. "Where are we going?"
I slipped my wallet into my back pocket. "You'll find out when we get there." I grabbed her hand, grinning when she didn't swat me away. "Let's go, love."