F*ck Marriage(24)

“Who will be writing the Life After Divorce column?” There’s a little smile on her lips; it’s evident she knows exactly who that’ll be.

“Me.”

Woods pales.

Pearl speaks next, her voice tinny in the large conference room. “Isn’t that a little classless?”

“Which part?” I try to keep my voice even, but I can feel the vein on the side of my head throbbing.

“You writing about divorce when your ex-husband still owns the blog…”

I stare at her face: sharp chin, sharp nose, sharp cheekbones. Pearl is all angles, both in appearance and life.

“About as classy as his former mistress running the Health and Wellness section of the blog.” Goddammit! I have no self-control.

Satcher facepalms from the doorway. I ignore Pearl’s red face and the snickers and move on to the next slide. My hands are shaking.

“Because we’re making room for new areas, there will be some shifting around in assignments.” I look directly at Pearl when I say this. “I’ve hired Kerri Water to come in and take over Health and Wellness.”

I see one of her friends reach out to squeeze her hand. Pearl angrily bats her hand away and glares at me.

“No one discussed this with me. You can’t just move me mid-year…”

“I can,” I say calmly. “Your contract says you were hired to be an editorial writer and you’ll still be one, just in an area you’re more qualified for.”

“And what is that?” she asks sharply.

“Accessories,” I say.

There are a few snickers. Pearl’s head jerks around as she looks for the culprit.

Kerri Water is a fitness sensation. She has over two million followers on Instagram and recently signed a deal to design a sneaker line for a popular brand.

“As a longtime reader of Rhubarb, Kerri is excited to team up with us.”

There is excited whispering all around. What I don’t tell them is that Satcher and Kerri were fuck buddies a few years ago, and she still carries a flame for him. He barely had to twist her arm when I asked him to approach her about it.

“We’re also bringing on two more fashion bloggers that will be more conducive to diversity.”

“What does that mean?” Pearl asks.

“They aren’t white,” I say. “Or straight.”

Loren claps. I grin at her before continuing.

“Our rebranding will include a section for single mothers, the LGBTQ community, and every week we’ll feature a small homegrown business so that we can give a step up to start-up companies. And, this year we’ll be attending the Blogstyle conference in San Francisco.”

There’s excited clapping all around. During Rhubarb's first two years it hadn’t been in the budget to take everyone to the conference. Satcher and I had discussed it and decided it was important for the brand to go.

When I look up again, Satcher is gone and the only one left in the doorway is Woods, who is still frowning.



As soon as I’ve covered the budget, and the meeting is over, he heads to where I’m closing down my laptop.

“You never told me.” His tone is accusatory.

“I didn’t know I had to.” I avoid his eyes as I grab the last of my things and head for the door.

“You still have to answer to—”

“To whom?” I interrupt, jerking upright. He doesn’t say anything. “I answer to Satcher, who hired me to do exactly what I’m doing. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I push past him out into the hallway, where I almost bump into a livid Pearl.

“What do you think you’re doing?” As she speaks, she rotates her body sideways, blocking my path to my office.

I’m surprised by her gall. Not only am I her boss, but I’m twice her size. This little bitch thinks she’s invincible, I think. How long was she waiting out here to confront me, out of earshot of the rest of the staff?

I sigh. Cornered by the treachery twins. I look over my shoulder to see Woods still behind me. I’m surprised by his expression: narrowed eyes, taut mouth stretched into a line of tight disapproval. But he’s not looking at me; his eyes are on Pearl. I wonder if this is an I can talk shit about my ex-wife but you can’t situation.

When I look back at Pearl, I manage to keep my face neutral. “My job,” I say, answering her question.

“You think you can come in here and uproot everything we’ve been working hard at for years after you abandoned Rhubarb—”

“Whoa! Are you kidding me right now?” I’ve stopped trying to walk past her. My arms are full and I wish I had a place to dump everything for this titillating confrontation, but with Woods behind me and Pearl in front, I’m cornered.

She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Pearl, I left Rhubarb because you were sleeping with my husband,” I say it very matter-of-factly, but the moment the words are out of my mouth, all color drains from Pearl’s face.

“That’s in the past,” she says.

“Well, isn’t that convenient for you.” I try to push past her, but she squares her shoulders, standing her ground.

“I’m not moving departments,” she says. “You’ll have to find someone else—”