Page 85 of About Last Night

I shake the image of Audrey out of my mind. “It was too soon. I know posting those photos was childish and immature, but yeah. I wanted her to see that I’m not holed up somewhere licking my wounds, even if it’s not the whole truth.”

“That’s pretty passive-aggressive, which I don’t approve of as a rule. For this, I’ll make an exception.” She studies me for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What?”

She shakes her head once. “Nothing. Back to business. Don’t take what I’m about to say as me wanting to take over your department.”

I bristle. I knew this would come eventually.

“I do want to be more in the loop, but more than that, I want our employees to see you are the one making this happen. That you’re taking your idea and running with it. Making it a success. It’s important that they see, and believe, that we are equal partners.”

“Wha…did you just say equal partners?”

“Yes, of course. We’ve always had equal shares, but I want this to be a true professional partnership. You know how important the income from your division is going to be to us.”

“Right. Professionally.” I’m surprised by the stab of disappointment I feel, and do my best to hide it by taking a drink.

“Hey,” Greta says.

I look up at her and know she sees right through me.

“You’re doing a fantastic job, but that’s not the main reason I want you in the office. I want my sister beside me. It’s been hell trying to be the fun one at work,” she says, humor sparking in her eyes. “I rather liked being an ice queen. I need you to come back and take some of the pressure off me.” Her cheeks puff out when she blows out a dramatic breath. “It’s exhausting. I don’t know how you and Willa do it.”

I suppress a smile. I know without a doubt that no one in that office will say that Greta has been the fun one the last two months.

“OK,” I say. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Ready to go at nine a.m.”

“You will?”

“Absolutely. I need to save everyone from your sad attempts at being the fun one.”

She lifts her head up to the sky. “Thank you, baby Jesus.”

“But you might have forgotten I leave for New Zealand again on Tuesday.”

Greta squinches up her nose. “I did forget.” She waves her hand away. “Come to the meeting anyway. Everyone misses you.”

She takes her empty beer bottle to the kitchen and is getting ready to leave. I can’t let her leave without knowing.

“Has, um, Audrey asked about me?”

Greta adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder before meeting my gaze. “Yes. Once.”

“Oh.” Only once? Jesus, I was hoping for a bit more than that.

“She got the message that she needed to focus on doing her fucking job and not asking about you.”

My head jerks back at the heat in Greta’s voice. “Did you say that to her?”

“Not in those words, no. But my tone of voice got the point across. Trust me.” She turns at the door. “Don’t worry about having a big presentation tomorrow. I know this is short notice.”

“Nope, it’s no problem. I’ll have something ready.”

Greta nods and is out the door when she stops and turns around. “Is it all pretending to the world? That you’re over her?”

“Mostly. I cycle through the stages of grief pretty regularly.” I can’t tell Greta about the random crying jags I go on because they’re just mortifying. You’d think I was getting out of a ten-year relationship instead of one that hadn’t officially started and consisted of two hook-ups and weeks of flirting.

Greta raises her eyebrows. “The stages of grief?”

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