After embellishing her resume, Valerie-a single mom-lands a job as an administrative assistant to the hottest, most entitled and obnoxious man she's ever met: Preston Cartwright, the CFO of the prestigious Cartwright & Sons Enterprises.
Several yea...
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"Hey, Paul," I say as I answer my cell phone. It's lunchtime and I'm spending it at my desk—as usual—immersed in the Marramount account. I've spent every lunch hour, and every other available time I've had over the last two weeks going through the copious amount of documents.
There have been many change orders over the years which have driven the overall price up. And while the numbers seem to add up overall, there appear to be errors I can't explain. I hate that. I'm way too competitive—even with myself—to let things go unresolved. And I'd be damned if I let a project this significant go before I figure it out.
"Hey, Val. How's it going?" my brother asks me cheerily, which I recognize is his attempt to sound casual, but he doesn't.
"Good," I respond and flip over an HVAC estimate, deciding not to question his cheerful attitude. "What's going on with you?"
"Uh, nothing..." he says hastily, but it comes out like a question. And that has me removing my eyes from what I'm reviewing and focusing in on my brother.
"Am I missing something?" I ask.
"No, no."
"Paul," I urge, knowing from his weird behavior he called me for a reason. "Just tell me."
He lets out a big sigh. "Fine. I thought you'd be upset, that's all. That's why I called."
"Upset?" I'm wracking my brain trying to figure out why I should be upset. There is nothing going on as far as I know. I paid back Fiona the money I owed her. The car is running, and the kids are good. I'm about to get paid again, which will give me a few hundred dollars' cushion in my bank account. I'd say things are better than they've been in a long time.
"Okay, great," Paul says hurriedly. "Forget I called. I'm just gonna go."
Now he's really acting strange. My brother might be a bit out there, but this is odd, even for him.
"Hey, hold on a minute, Paul," I say and straighten up in my chair. "Why did you call?"
He sighs again and then he says in a much gentler tone, "You know what day today is, right?"
"No," and then I glance down at the date on the computer monitor. October 8.
"Ohhhh..."
My wedding day.
It would've been eight years.
Paul hears it on the way my breathing changes when I finally figure it out. Last year this time I was an absolute mess for two entire days, but today, I haven't even thought about my ex-husband once. He hasn't even crossed my mind.
"Yeah," my brother's voice softens. "Are you okay?"
I only think about the question for a second before I reply. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for checking on me, but I can honestly say that I'm good. Relieved even, that it's over." And that is the honest to God truth.
