Ripple Effect

Chapter Forty-One: ...any deal is better than no deal.

Jay

3:07 PM

The plastic handset sweated against Jay's cheek. He swapped the phone to the opposite ear and wedged it against his shoulder. His voice strained as he fought to keep his tone level. "Well, we wouldn't have to go to mediation if you'd just be reasonable."

A rap-rap-rap against the glass jarred through him. The door swooshed open and flooded the room with the lilt of chatter, the clatter of fingertips striking keys and the trills of telephones from the outer office. Kat leant into the doorway, causing the hot pink star that emblazoned the tip of her tie to swing forward, and she tapped at her watch, her eyebrows arched.

Jay pushed up the cuff of his shirt sleeve and glanced at his own watch—the glare of the light overhead clouded its face—and then he rubbed his brow. "Look, can we talk about this later? I'm late for a meeting, and—"

The phone cut out, and the drone of the dropped line kicked in.

Jay lowered the handset and stared at it for a long moment whilst a frown worked its way across his brow. He shook his head to himself and clunked the phone back into the cradle. "Or just hang up, because that's clearly the mature, adult thing to do."

"Dare I ask?" Kat tipped her head towards the phone whilst Jay grabbed the suit jacket draped over the back of his office chair and wrestled his arms into the sleeves.

He smoothed down the collar, and then snatched up the binder from the top of the stack and followed her out into the corridor. "You know, when you marry someone, you expect to spend a lifetime together, not have them file for divorce a few years later and then end up dealing with a lifetime's worth of problems."

"Been there, my friend." Kat gave a kind of mouth-shrug, and then she cast him a sideways glance as they walked towards the conference room. "If you ever need to vent..."

"Thanks, but I think I'd rather just bury my head in the sand." He forced a smile at the colleagues they passed, one so frangible that a single tap would see it shatter.

"Well, the offer's always open."

Their pace slowed to a reluctant amble as they neared the end of the corridor, as though they were wading against the flow of a stream, the current growing stronger step by step.

Kat cast him another glance, and the lightness in her expression dimmed as she lowered her voice a fraction. "Any news about the secretary?"

Jay's brow pinched. "McCord?"

Her eyes widened, and she gave him a look as though to say—Of course. Who else?

"Nothing promising." They came to a stop outside the end office, and he motioned for her to step to the side. "Why?"

"Just wondering when she's going to be back." Kat peered around the corner and towards the conference room where the rest of the staff had already gathered. "One week of Cushing and I'm beginning to remember why I left DC and moved to an avocado farm."

"He's not that bad."

Kat arched her eyebrows at him.

Jay shrank back beneath the persistence of her look. "So, he's a little more in-the-box than Secretary McCord, but that's not always a bad thing. At least he's getting things done."

She shook her head to herself and let out a huff. "Well, I didn't move back to DC for in-the-box and paper-pushing. It's diplomacy, not paint by numbers."

She strode towards the conference room, but Jay called her back. "Kat..." He waited for her to turn around and step closer again, her expression expectant. "When you moved to California, Desi's dad moved out there too, right?"