Always the Last to Know(101)

“Thank you for your offer.”

With that, Juliet slid off the stool, pushed her hair behind her ears, and grabbed her bag. “Good luck, Arwen.”

Arwen wasn’t at work the next day, and her office was empty. Kathy, too, was gone, not so much as an e-mail of goodbye after all this time. That hurt, since Juliet thought they’d been friends. But Barb Frost hadn’t raised any fools. Juliet had always been wary of Kathy.

Meanwhile, the rumor mill was churning out stories, and Edward and Dave were in a huddle in Edward’s office. Juliet closed her door and did her work.

It was no surprise when Dave and Edward called her into the conference room at five.

“Juliet!” Dave said as if he hadn’t seen her seventeen times today. “You look amazing! That week off did you some good, did it?”

“One day, Dave. One day off. And yes, it did.”

Edward was staring at his iPad. “Let’s get to it, shall we? We’d like to make you a partner, Juliet. Your excellent contributions here have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.”

“So true! We’re a meritocracy, and you have merit, all right,” Dave chuckled.

She listened as the men wooed her with phrases like percentage of profits, principal ownership, staff management, increased vacation time. When they were done, she folded her hands neatly in front of her.

“Arwen turned you down, I take it?”

The men exchanged glances. “Uh . . . well, she’s decided to pursue other opportunities,” Dave said.

“I know. She asked me to join her firm.” They flinched in unison.

“Well, we know you’re a team player, Juliet,” Dave said. “Loyal. We gave you your start, after all.”

“When I got my license, I had offers from nine firms, Dave,” she said.

“But you came here, and I think we’ve treated you very well.”

She could do it. Sure, they offered Arwen the spot first, but business was business, and Juliet wouldn’t take it personally.

It was the recent memory of the two of them lecturing her in her own home just a few days ago that did them in.

“No thanks,” she said. “I hereby tender my resignation. All the best to you, gentlemen.”

She called Oliver from the car, and he congratulated her and said they’d talk more when she got home, but he was very proud.

Her righteous badassery lasted the entire drive home and up to dinner (which was not salmon, but a delicious roast chicken. Juliet’s favorite. Oliver had served it with a flourish and a kiss).

“I quit my job today,” she announced as the girls bickered. That did silence them.

“Hear, hear, darling,” Oliver said, toasting her.

“Seriously?” Brianna said. “You quit? That’s just great. Are we still going to Hawaii this summer? Has it occurred to you that you make more than Dad and maybe quitting isn’t a great idea?”

The little . . . brat. “You know what, Brianna? Maybe we’ll go to Hawaii, and maybe not. Maybe, if you don’t lose the attitude, we three will go and you can stay with Nana and help with Grampy, because you’re not . . . how should I put this? You’re not bringing much to the table these days. I mean, we love you, but you’re a real pain in the ass lately, and I’m not sure you deserve a vacation at all.”

Brianna’s mouth dropped open.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Oliver said, putting his hand over Juliet’s. “But Mum’s got a point.”

“Am I a pain in the ass?” Sloane asked.

“Not yet, honey, and hopefully not ever,” Juliet said. “Brianna, you need to try harder. Okay? Great. Also, I’ll be taking your phone for the rest of the school year. I don’t think it’s good for you, being attached to it as much as you are.”

If looks could kill . . . There was no love in that glare, that was for sure.

Shit. The panic attack was coming. She’d quit her job. She’d turned down frickin’ partner and was currently unemployed for the first time in her life and her daughter hated her and they might not go to Hawaii, and she had really, really been looking forward to it, and— “Excuse me.”

Down the stairs, down the hall, into the closet. Breathebreathebreathe, nope not working. She lay down, legs weak, and wished she’d thought to bring a paper bag. Her vision grayed, but this time she didn’t want to faint. She just wanted . . . she just wanted nothing.

The truth was, she had everything.

She’d find a job. She could start her own firm. She’d be fine. Oliver made a decent enough living. They could switch their health care to his work, even if it was a worse plan, and . . .

“Mommy?” Brianna sounded like a little girl again, scared from a bad dream. Shit. Had she done that?

“Yes, honey?” Juliet said, sitting up.

“Are you really that mad at me?”

“No! No. Just tired of the . . . bitchiness.”

“You still like me, though, right?”

“Of course!” A lie, but really. Parenthood was ninety percent forgiveness, ten percent lies and a hundred percent love.

“Why are you in the closet?”

“Oh, I guess I’m . . . hiding from life. Sometimes I feel scared about things.”

“Like what?”