You are going to take the job, right?”
Her arms came back up and she crossed them tightly in front of her breasts. She stared back at him. “Yes. I am.”
His gut twisted. Well. There you go. Signed, sealed, delivered.
He stood. “Congratulations. I’m so glad we had a chance to discuss it before you made your decision.” He stalked past her toward the bedroom. Probably not as impressive as it might have been, since he was wearing nothing but his old ratty bathrobe with the frayed cuffs and torn shoulder.
“Don’t do this, Alex! Don’t shut down on me!”
“You have no room to say that right now,” he said. “No room at all. I’m going to work.”
“If you do, I won’t be here when you get back!”
“Fine, you’re going to do what you want anyhow—why bother to tell me!”
And that pretty much ended that conversation.
29
Wednesday, June 15th
Washington, D.C.
In the cab on the way to the rental car place, Toni fumed. Why did Alex have to be such a horse’s ass?
All right, yes, she should have told him about the job interview, and that she was seriously considering taking the offer. But, really, when did she have the chance? After she had seen the director, Alex had been out of his office and busy. He hadn’t come back to his condo until late, and she’d been in bed. The first time she could have reasonably brought it up was this morning, and before she had a chance to say anything, he’d jumped down her throat. How fair was that?
Uh-huh. You can make the case that way to him if you want, but let’s not bullshit ourselves, okay? You could have mentioned it before you went to the meeting. And you were only pretending to be asleep when Alex got home because you didn’t want to talk about it. Try again.
All right, yes, yes, it was true. But even so, he still didn’t have any right to blow up like that. He wasn’t her father!
No, but he’s the man you love. And he was right about one thing—you did to him what you absolutely hate to see him do to you—you kept him in the dark about what was going on inside your head. And all that business about you not being there when he got home? What was that?
Toni sighed. She hated these arguments with her inner self. She always lost. She could rationalize to somebody else, but she couldn’t fool herself—not for long, anyhow. Alex’s anger had ignited her own, and when they’d both had a chance to cool down, they’d be able to discuss things more rationally. He did love her, she knew that, and just because they’d had a fight didn’t mean all was lost forever. She hadn’t had much practice at that, fighting with somebody you loved, and every time it happened, she had a belly-twisting fear that it would be the end. One cross word, blap! they’d go their separate ways. Maybe you got over that, in time. She hoped so.
All right. So now the question was, Should she wait and hash this out with Alex? Or should she go to Quantico, see the director, and tell her she was going to take the job? Her ego said to hell with him, do what you want. But her heart said she should at least sit down and explain to him why she wanted to do it. Okay, so he was pissed off at her, he was busy, and he had a lot on his mind, but they could find a few minutes to work this out. This was more important than anything else in her life, she couldn’t just turn and walk away from it.
“Here we are, lady,” the cabbie said.
Toni blinked. The trip had been a blur, she couldn’t remember any of it.
“Thanks,” she said.
Her mind was set. She would get the rental car, drive to the office, and find a time and space to talk to Alex. She could make him understand. She knew she could.
New York City
The bar was a rat hole—shoot, a self-respecting rat would think twice about sticking its nose in here, and if it had two neurons to spark at each other, it would decide not to risk it. The lighting was mercifully dim, but you could still see the knife scars in the wooden bar, the initials carved in the tables and stools. There were flats and holographs on the walls lit by neon beer signs, the posters of mostly naked