Page 12 of Buttons

Before I usher the children outside to the car, Julian tells them he loves them and will see them soon. After that, we go outside. The night air is cool against my skin. I buckle Meredith into her car seat while Leo climbs in beside her, Bronty clutched tight against his chest.

“We’ll get breakfast when we stop,” I promise them. “And you can pick whatever you want.”

“Even chocolate chip pancakes?” Leo asks, his anxiety momentarily overshadowed by this unexpected freedom.

“Even chocolate chip pancakes.”

I close the back door and slide into the driver’s seat. Through the rearview mirror, I see Julian standing in the open doorway of our perfect house. His mouth moves, but I can’t hear the words. I don’t need to do anything but start the engine. So I do.

The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. The shock of a man who has always gotten exactly what he wanted, facing his first real denial. I back out of the driveway, watching him grow smaller.

Chapter 5

Julian

Ilook like a liability. I notice the stares as I stride through the office. They think I don’t see them, these underlings with their wide eyes and quickly averted gazes. My shirt is wrinkled. There’s coffee on my sleeve. So what? I’m Julian Plaza. I don’t need a perfect Windsor knot to command respect. But something feels off-balance today, like walking into a room where all the furniture has been shifted two inches to the left.

The coffee wasn’t my fault. The new barista at my usual place let go of the cup too soon. I should have gone back and demanded a replacement, but I was already running late after wasting thirty minutes searching for my blue tie. It’s the exact one Elowen always sets out with my suit. She wasn’t there to do it this morning. She wasn’t there to do anything.

I push through my office door, and the sight stops me cold. My space looks like it’s been ransacked. Not by thieves, but worse:disorganization. I have multiple projects, so every employee has been working on some sort of report to give me this morning. Usually, on project days, Elowen beats me to the office to handle them. She even prepares breakfast the night before so Meredith and Leo can eat in the car so she can better assist me. But right now, there are no hints that Elowen has been here. Files sit in uneven stacks. Post-Its pepper my computer screen. My inbox overflows with papers that should have been sorted, prioritized, and handled before they even reached my desk.

Why isn’t Elowen here yet? She must be struggling to find a sitter for the children.

The silver frame on my desk catches the morning light. Elowen and me at the Martin wedding, her smile reaching her eyes while mine stops at my teeth. She picked that frame herself. “Elegant but not ostentatious,” she’d said. I agree.

It was also her idea to have a small cactus by the window. “Studies show plants improve workplace productivity, and cactuses don’t need much attention,” she’d informed me, arranging it just so. It’s my little workplace buddy.

There’s also the abstract painting on the wall that she selected because “the blue matches your eyes, Julian.” Again, I agree. Most paintings frustrate me, but this particular one reminds me of Leo’s second-grade painting. A masterpiece in its own right because, while it may appear abstract, there’s actual organization to it. I know, because I got out my ruler and measured.

Eight years of Elowen’s quiet influence surrounds me, and I never noticed until now. We had been doing so well until now.

A tentative knock interrupts my decor inventory. Virginia hovers in the doorway, her body language screaming that she’d rather be anywhere else.

“What do you need?” I don’t hide my irritation. Virginia works for me, but she works with my wife more. While Elowen ismy executive assistant, there are times—like today—where she focuses on the children, and Virginia takes her place. Except today, I don’t want her to take my wife’s place.

“Mr. Plaza.” She clears her throat. “I received a call from Mrs. Plaza this morning.”

I check my watch. “It’s nearly ten. Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“I tried to catch you when you arrived, but you walked past my desk.” Her voice is professionally neutral, but I catch the implication. If I hadn’t been so distracted by my own dishevelment, I would have noticed her signaling me.

“Fine. What did she want? Did she say what time she’ll be in?”

Virginia shifts her weight. “Mrs. Plaza called to formally resign her position as your executive secretary.”

Oddly, my mouth opens and closes a few times as my mind catches up with her meaning. But then I remember this is Elowen. She’s reasonable. She’ll come back.

“That’sridiculous.She doesn’t need to resign. She’s taking some time off, that’s all.” I wave my hand dismissively.

“She was quite specific, sir. She asked me to inform you that she’s submitted her formal resignation letter to HR, effective immediately. She’s arranged for her personal items to be collected later this week when you’re scheduled to be at the Shephard meeting.”

That changes everything. The calculation of it shows it isn’t a hasty decision made in anger, like I initially thought. This is premeditated desertion.

“Did she say anything else?”

“Just that she’s left detailed transition notes for me.”

Of course she did. Elowen would never leave a job half-finished, even when she’s burning bridges.