Page 103

“They don’t hate you. They fear you. It’s uncomfortable for them to realize I have loyalty to more than Hessler Group now. They are used to leaders who eat, sleep, and breathe the job. Maybe they don’t like that, all of a sudden, I’d choose my wife over all of it.”
“Really?” I lift my brows. “Because you’ve worked your whole life for this. And you’ve loved me for what, the two weeks we’ve been married?”
My eyes bulge as I realize it’s the first time Dex and I have brought up the “L” word. It’s obvious, but there’s something so sacred about those words. In my mind, there’d be a parade, fireworks, and maybe a bed covered in rose petals the first time he said it.
Dex hooks his finger under my chin and guides my gaze to his. He presses his lips against mine softly, barely a touch. “Lennox, it’s been so much longer than two weeks. I think Imissed you before I even knew you. If I hadn’t met you, I’m convinced I would’ve ended up alone. You have no idea the hold you have on me. I needed us to start as friends, otherwise, I would’ve called your power over me straight-up sorcery.”
For a moment, I take it in silently. The words I wanted to hear for so long. It almost feels like a dream and I’m so emotional I could cry. In fact, if I tell Dex I feel the same, I might. Instead, I turn my cheek, nuzzling into his hand, and decide to cut the tension with my signature sarcasm.
“Eh, for all you know I cast a spell on you.” I wink at him.
“Good. Keep it. I want to stay in love with you forever.” When he kisses me again, this time he lingers, his warm, full lips grazing mine as he whispers, “I really do love you. I think I finally understand what that means now.”
This is better than a parade. It’s honest, raw intimacy. No dramatic fireworks necessary. “Dex, I love?—”
He presses his finger against my lips, stopping me midsentence. “Save it,” he says. “I know how you feel. But save it, because I have a feeling one day soon, I’m going to really need to hear ‘I love you’ from you for the first time. Hold on to it for that moment, okay?”
I nod. “Okay. I will. Can we go home now? I need to leave this awful day behind me.”
“Sure. I can cancel the rest of my day.”
It’s five o’clock in the evening what “rest of his day?” My husband works similarly to the way my dad used to—endlessly…relentlessly.
When he rises, Dex notices the open box of letters on the ground. “Doing some light reading?”
I wouldn’t call anything about Dottie’s letters light. I cry after every other one I read. I’d call it more along the lines of heart-wrenchingly tragic, laced with scandal. “Your grandma wrote letters to her friends,” I say, deciding to ease him in. “Seemedlike writing was her outlet.” I look around the office. “This place wasn’t always so easy for her. Do you want to read them with me?”
Dex sighs. “Does she write about my mom?”
“Sometimes. All wonderful things,” I admit. Actually, I want Dex to piece this puzzle together for me. I still don’t quite understand. I know Dex is Jacob’s grandson, not Harrison’s. But, does Dex know that? Did Harrison? The problem is I can’t ask outright without feeling like I’m betraying Dottie. If Dex were to read these and find out himself…
“Maybe it can just be something between you and Grandma, then. When it comes to my mom, it’s just easier not to reopen that wound.”
I nod. “Okay, I understand. But if you ever change your mind. They’ll be right here in this office…”
Standing, he holds his hand out to me. “Thank you.” Then, he pulls me to my feet. “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite?”
I grimace. “Yes. But I’m in a takeout kind of mood. No fancy, five-course billionaire meals or anything.”
He laughs. “How about we go do some regular people stuff? There’s a big hardware store up the way next to one of my favorite little hole-in-the-wall places to getrealCubanos. The chef doesn’t speak more than twenty words of English. Completely authentic.”
“Mmm,” I moan. “That sounds delicious. But why’d you mention the hardware store?”
Dex smiles. “Let’s go pick out a washer and dryer. What do you say?”
I flash him a wide smile and scrunch my nose. “I’d say that sounds like a perfect date night to me.”
29
Lennox
I’ve survived my first month at Hessler Group by making myself scarce. Here and there, I sign paperwork, but I seldom talk to anyone outside of Spencer. She guards my office door like a loyal rottweiler. We fill nine in the morning until one in the afternoon by talking about all the things I wish I could implement at Hessler Group. The numbers are weird. The leadership team all make seven figures when we still have entry-level employees like Spencer who have been here for years, barely making more than minimum wage. They work harder than most of the top dogs from what I’ve seen.
Hessler Group has two different call centers. One about forty minutes from headquarters and another in the Midwest. Being a customer service survivor myself, I asked Brookes from call center operations if I could do a site visit. He simply told me that he’d pull a fresh set of reporting so I could see the margins.
That’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to know how much money we’re saving and how large our profit margins are. I want to know how morale is. I want to know if Hessler employees are as miserable as the ones at Advantage Insurance. I have someideas on how we can make their day-to-day more tolerable—like allowing them to hang up on ruthless, foul-mouthed assholes.
But no one wants to hear what I have to say. So, I spend my mornings making plans I’ll never implement. Then, Spencer and I have lunch in the cafeteria together. I stretch the clock as long as possible before I can justify us leaving our workday early. I know I’m not particularly helpful on the business front, but I have to earn the money Dex gave me somehow. I can’t stand the idea of being paid simply to be his wife.