ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟛𝟚 #2
I set it carefully beside my laptop.
Maybe, just maybe, everything had been blown out of proportion.
Maybe Dannah misunderstood. Or maybe she was just being dramatic. She was known for exaggerating a lot of things.
Maybe Georgia hadn't-
I opened my laptop. Notifications exploded across the screen.
Instagram, linkedIn. Firm updates.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
The firm's official page sat at the very top.
Below it hundreds of comments.
"Well deserved!" "An incredible leader!" "The future of the firm!"
"Couldn't think of anyone better."
Really? I could think of someone. That someone would be me.
AKA, Dixie West. Not Georgia Simmons.
There were pictures of Georgia smiling, Georgia shaking Ted's hand. Georgia standing in front of the conference room.
Georgia in...my office.
My office.
I stared closer.
There, on the bookshelf behind her, sat the brass scales of justice I'd bought three years ago. She hadn't even moved them or touched anything.
She'd sat behind my desk, like she'd always belonged there. My fingers tightened around the edge of the laptop.
I clicked another photo.
There she was, laughing beside Ted.
Ted.
Smiling. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. I couldn't remember the last time Ted smiled that big at me.
Has he ever actually?
The tea suddenly tasted bitter. I reached for my phone.
Ted.
One phone call, and that's all it'd take.
"What the hell is going on?"
Simple and professional.
Maybe a curse word or two. My thumb hovered over his name.
Call. Call him.
Ask and demand answers.
The room tilted. My head pulsed so hard I physically winced. The migraine shot straight through my temples.
I shut my eyes tight, but the pictures stayed there anyway.
Georgia, in my office, with Ted.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
A tear landed on the keyboard before I realized I was crying.
Seriously, Dixie? Right now? Over Instagram?
It sounded pathetic. Another tear followed.
This wasn't even about social media. This was a humiliation tactic for me. Public humiliation.
Everyone knew before I did.
Everyone! Literally everyone.
If Dannah hadn't called me that day, I'm sure no one would've told me.
Not even Ted could say anything.
Not even Ted.
I wonder what else happened over the couple days I thought I could enjoy myself. It was stupid of me to think I could ever take a break.
The whole legal community was congratulating her while I had been throwing up on an airplane.
Great timing.
I pressed both hands against my forehead.
Please, please.
Please stop hurting.
My head, my heart. Either one. I'd take one-just make everything stop.
A loud metallic clang echoed outside. I flinched.
Another loud clang.
What could it be now? How could it possibly get worse than this?
I walked toward the bedroom window, and pulled the curtain aside.
Of course he was on the roof. There stood Cameron, he was shirtless with a tool belt around his waist and a hammer in one hand.
Normally I would stand there, watching every drop of sweat glisten his abs. But definitely not today.
A stack of shingles beside him. He was balanced like this was the most normal thing in the world. I stood there as he crouched near a small section above the east wing.
Probably fixing whatever leak he'd noticed before California.
Clang!
Another nail.
I glared at him. Was he being serious?
We had been home for, what... forty-five minutes?
Forty? And he was already climbing onto the roof?
Normal people showered. Normal people... didn't voluntarily stand twenty feet in the air after a cross-country flight.
He shifted farther toward the edge. My stomach lurched.
"What are you doing..." I muttered.
Another hammer strike.
He leaned forward even farther. My grip tightened on the curtain.
Irritation flared all over again.
This was absolutely stupid. He was absolutely stupid. Could this man spend five minutes not risking his life?
First burning buildings, now roofs.
What's next? Juggling chainsaws?
He moved again. I caught myself taking one involuntary step toward the window.
My heart gave one hard thud.
"...Idiot!"
He couldn't hear me and I wasn't about to yell loud enough for him to.
That would require caring, and I was currently far too irritated to care.
The same fear we'd argued about, only now it had nowhere to go.
It disguised itself as annoyance. Which, frankly, in my opinion, was much easier to carry than admitting I couldn't even watch my own husband patch a roof without imagining everything that could go wrong.
I wiped my cheek quickly, almost offended by the tear.
Gosh, I needed to suck it up.
Georgia Simmons did not get to take my office and my dignity and then take my composure too.
I turned away from the window. My laptop sat open on the desk, still glowing with her smiling face.
The words blurred. I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and pressed it against my eyes.
This wasn't me.
I didn't cry over promotions. I didn't cry over office politics. I had spent years in courtrooms with people trying to destroy me.
I had faced judges who hated my arguments, opposing counsel who wanted me embarrassed, and clients who blamed me when things went wrong.
I handled all of them. So why did this feel different?
Don't get me wrong, I was angry that Georgia was successful. But I was also livid that my own people had celebrated her while quietly removing me.
I yanked open the window curtains. "Forty minutes, Cameron."
Cameron looked down from where he was hammering.
"Dixie?"
"We have been home for forty minutes."
He climbed down carefully from where he was standing, placing the hammer beside him.
"Dixie-"
"No. Seriously. Forty minutes." I stepped away from the window.
"You got off a plane, walked inside, dropped your bags, and decided the best thing to do was climb twenty feet into the air with a hammer?"
His expression softened. "I noticed a leak before we left."
"Okay, and?"
"And I wanted to fix it."
"Of course you did." My laugh was sharp. "Because sitting down is impossible for you."
He stayed quiet. Anger was easier than admitting my hands were shaking.
"You do this all the time."
He frowned. "Do what?"
You run into burning buildings. You throw yourself into dangerous situations. You come home from a flight and climb onto a roof."
"I was being careful."
That sentence did it.
I actually laughed.
"Careful?"
I stepped closer.
"That's what you're going with?"
"Cameron, you are standing on a roof with a hammer after a cross-country flight and you want to tell me you were careful?"
"Dix." His face softens.
"No."
I wiped at my face angrily. "No, don't look at me like I'm being irrational."
"I don't think you're irrational."
"Really? Because it feels like you think I'm crazy for being upset."
"I think you're upset because something else happened."
My jaw tightened. My head throbs even more.
"I don't even want to talk to you." I say, my voice cracking slightly.
Just like that, I close the window curtains.
I turn to my desk, and pick up my phone. I knew exactly who I had to call.
On the third ring, the phone finally picks up.
~