Page 165 of Wordless


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I should've been happy. And yet happiness eluded me in spite of the fact that Jack had apparently also delivered all of my toiletries to the new bathroom.

Or maybe someone else had.

Either way, the result was the same. I was officially alone with my stuff.

Goodie for me.

By the time I got undressed and climbed into bed, I had a raging headache and a serious case of the blues.

I felt like I should've handled things better, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how. And if the situation didn't miraculously improve, I simplycouldn’tstay on the tour.

After all, going back to our previous boss-employee relationship was completely out of the question. Even if Jack could pretend that nothing had happened between us, I knew thatImost certainly couldn’t.

And yet, I still waffled.Should I stay? Or should I go?

But it wasn't until breakfast the next morning that I realized the futility of trying to decide at all.And why?It was because apparently, while I'd been asleep, a certain someone had made the decision on my behalf.

And I didn't like it.

Chapter 66

Jack

As Becka glared at me from across the table, I asked, "Who says you're being fired?"

"You. Just now."

"No. What I said was, I'm sending you out on assignment. Big difference."

"Oh, please," she said. "It is not. You're sending me away." Her mouth tightened. "You might as well fire me and be done with it."

I leaned back in the booth. "You realize what you just said, right?"

"What?"

With a wry smile, I explained, "You admitted you're not being fired,andthat you know it."

Becka didn't smile back. But then again, I hadn't expected her to. "Oh, stop it," she said. "Now you're just splitting hairs."

I considered all of the people I'd fired over the years. There hadn't been a lot, but each and every one of them had known damn well what was going on.

A few cried. Some got angry. None of them had ever doubted they were being shown the door.

To Becka I said, "Trust me. If I were firing you, you'd know."

"Do you want to hear something funny?" she said. "I almost quit last night. And this morning, too."

"But you didn't."

"Right. And you wanna know why?"

Idid,more than she realized – and more than I was willing to show at the moment. With a casual shrug, I said, "Sure, why not?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't even know. Ishould'vequit. I still should."

I wanted to pull her close and kiss away her sadness and frustration. But that would be a mistake, for her in particular. She was my drug, my muse, the only person who made me smile –reallysmile.

But I'd rip out my own heart before I'd put her at risk, which is why she had to go – the farther away the better.