Page 43 of The Forever Game

“You at the office?”

“No,” I grumble. “I’m at this stupid lunch with one of Ryan’s clients.”

“I thought you liked meeting clients. Isn’t that the best part of the job?”

“Usually, but not all clients are created equal.”

“Oh.” I bet he’s nodding with understanding right now. An ache for him blooms inside me. I want to be there with him at his dad’s house, getting covered in sawdust and paint and— “So, what’s wrong with this client? Can you say, or are they right there?”

“I’m in the bathroom.” I spin around, resting my butt against the edge of the vanity. “He’s a bit arrogant, and… I don’t know.” I shrug. “It’s not the fun, cocky arrogant that you are.”

He snickers.

“This guy thinks he’s God’s gift to all women.”

“Well, at least he knows you’re taken.”

I glance down at my hand, guilt riding through me. “Yeah.” I rub my thumb over my ring finger and wince, forgetting myself as I mumble, “Not sure it’d make a difference, though.”

“What?” Ethan’s voice sharpens, and I instantly register what I just said. “Is that asshole making moves on you?”

Shit!I snap my eyes closed. “Not really. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Which means he is, and you’re hiding in the bathroom to get away from him!” he growls. “Where are you?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Ethan, you can’t come in and disrupt this meeting.”

“I can if that guy is putting hands on you and making you feel uncomfortable! You shouldn’t be tolerating that shit, Mikayla!”

“I’m not!” I argue back and cringe at what a fucking lie that is. “I just have to get him to sign this deal, and then I can leave. I can handle it.”

“He better not fucking touch you.”

I sigh. “Stop acting like such a caveman.”

“I thought you liked my caveman side.”

A soft snort pops out my nose. “I don’t mind a little growling and you throwing me over your shoulder, but I have a big issue with you storming into a restaurant and disrupting a work meeting.”

He huffs, and I can picture him running a hand through his hair. “I hate that you’re having to put up with this shit, Mick.”

“Look, this is what it takes, okay? I have to schmooze and cajole and?—”

“I wish you would quit.”

Anger fires through me, and I ping straight. “Would you stop asking me to do that!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but any job where you have to play nice with some asshole just so he’ll sign a fucking piece of paper is dumb. You shouldn’t have to flirt with some moron to get what you want. You’re married to me, and I know how much you hate this shit. Just quit already.”

“And do what?” I snap back. “Just give up on my dream?”

“It’s not your dream,” he mumbles.

“I told you when we first met that I wanted to be a sports agent. If I quit, what the hell am I? Some heinous hockey wife whose biggest concern is getting her nails done in time for the game?” Okay, great, now I’m shouting, and my voice sounds so scathing that even my skin’s starting to crawl.

Ethan sighs, and I can sense him reining it in. His father must have just walked into the room or something, because his tone lowers to a soft, husky whisper. “You say this is your big dream, but it’s not. You didn’t want this. You wanted to be a sports agent who represents athletes who deserve a shot, not arrogant fuckwits who think they’re God’s gift. Why are you compromising?”

“Because reality kicked in, and this was the only job I could get, okay?” I spin and catch my reflection, my eyebrows dipping into a sharp V. “Everywhere I wanted to go said I needed experience, so that’s what I’m getting. Life isn’t always handed to us on a silver platter. I know you can’t relate to that, because everything you touch turns to gold, but it’s not like that for the rest of us.”

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