She Plans My Promotion, I'm Planning Divorce novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Letter

Darius snatches the vice president letter for himself and Claire lets him. Nathan walks out, and in the lobby his company card is dead and his bank card is declined because Claire holds every dollar. He texts Danielle Rowan and she answers that she is coming.

I was almost at the glass doors when Claire caught my arm.

Her fingers dug into my sleeve.

"Why are you so upset?" she said, low and fast. "I told you off a little, that's all. You've wanted a promotion for years. I..."

She stopped.

In her other hand, she held out the vice president appointment letter.

The paper was creased from how hard she had been gripping it.

I looked at it, then at her.

Her eyes held mine for a second, and then her sweet voice came into my head.

"Take it, Nate. Please just take it and be happy."

I opened my mouth to say no.

A hand reached between us and plucked the letter out of her fingers.

Darius unfolded it, read the first line and pressed his palm to his chest.

"Ms. Danforth," he said, loud enough for the whole lobby. "You made me a manager this morning, and now this? Vice president? I don't deserve it."

Two hundred people gasped and began to clap.

Claire stood very still.

I watched her lips part. I watched her choose.

Her thoughts came a moment later, a little shaky and then gaining speed.

"No, that's Nate's letter. But if I take it back now, everyone will know I..."

She swallowed.

"Darius is clever. He'll help me keep Nate from leaving. I'll give him a bonus later."

I almost laughed out loud.

Darius was not helping her keep me. He was taking what she had tried to hand me, and she was too proud to see it.

"Congratulations, Darius," I said.

He gave me a small, apologetic smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Ames. I'll try to be worthy of it."

Behind him, the crowd stepped back to make room for him.

Claire's hand tightened on my arm.

"Nathan," she said. "Don't you dare walk out of here. You are not in a position to quit."

"I already did," I said, and I took her fingers off my sleeve one by one.

Her face did not change.

I turned and walked through the doors, and nobody tried to stop me.

The cold lobby air was a relief.

I stood by the revolving door and let myself breathe. For the first time in five years I had left that building without telling her where I was going.

I was thirsty, so I went to the coffee cart on the sidewalk and ordered a black coffee and a bagel.

The woman at the cart tapped her reader.

"Declined," she said.

I frowned and handed her the second card, the one from the company.

"Declined."

"That's strange," I said. "It's a Danforth card."

"It says cancelled."

I felt something cold slide down my back.

I opened my banking app with my thumb.

There was my checking account, the one I had used for five years. The balance was zero.

Not low. Zero.

I refreshed it twice.

There was a transfer, dated twenty minutes earlier, to an account I did not recognize.

I knew who had made it. Only one person had the password, because she had asked for it on our second anniversary and called it "being a team."

At the party, she had stood at the bar and thought, "Three hours. He'll be home in three hours."

She had already been counting.

I checked my wallet.

There was one bill folded behind my driver's license. Sixty dollars.

I laughed, and the woman at the cart stared at me.

I took the money out and put it on the counter.

"Just the coffee," I said. "Keep the change."

She poured it and slid it across.

I sat on the low wall outside the Danforth building, in the sun, holding a paper cup, with my laptop bag at my feet.

A man in a gray hoodie walked by and glanced at my suit.

"Rough day?" he said.

"It's getting better," I said.

I took out my phone.

My message from that morning was still sitting there, unanswered.

Danielle, if your offer still stands, I'm ready.

I typed a second line under it.

I need a favor. I don't have a way to get across town.

I sent it before I could think about it.

The reply came in under a minute.

Where are you?

I told her.

Stay there, Danielle wrote. Don't go back inside. I'm coming.

I read it three times.

Then I looked up at the glass tower where my wife was handing out the rest of her party, and I did not go back in.

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