“Why don’t you get a bottle of white wine out of the cooler. We’ll have a glass while I defrost the soup.”
“Sounds even better.”
“Then you can tell me what you need to talk to me about.”
Sonya got a bottle from the under-counter cooler—one of the additions when her mother had had the kitchen updated.
The only real change Winter had made to the house since her husband died.
“I can’t just drop by to see my mom?”
“You can, and sometimes do. But”—Winter tapped a finger on Sonya’s nose—“I know that face.”
Working up to it, Sonya got out a corkscrew, the glasses.
“You know I’ve had some trouble at work. For the most part, I could ignore it, and for the most part, the people I work with aren’t idiots. But it really hasn’t let up. Again for the most part, little things. Little digs.”
“He turned out to be a very ugly man inside, didn’t he?”
“He’s so good at it.” With a half laugh, she poured the wine. “So smooth, always careful to be absolutely courteous to my face, and oh so professional. But…”
She took a sip, leaned back on the center island.
“Relentless, at the same time, just relentless. It’s a matter of him paying me back, over and over, for what he sees as me embarrassing him. And yesterday when I came into work, a project I’d just finished was gone. Wiped off my computer.”
“That’s not relentless, it’s vicious.”
“More, my backup was corrupted. I still had my physical mood board—that would’ve been too blatant. But my initial sketches, gone, too. I had to reconstruct, basically from memory. I worked until midnight.”
“No wonder you look tired. He’s an absolute bastard. You know he did this.”
“I know he did this, but I can’t prove he did this. Any more than I can prove he let out the air in my tires—all four of them—while I was putting in the overtime.”
“Good God, Sonya! That’s criminal! Did you call the police?”
“I called an Uber, and yes, I did report it. But that’s not going anywhere, Mom. I should’ve given him back the ring instead of selling it and donating the money. He might’ve let this go if I’d done that. But I wanted to rub his face in it, so…”
“You’re not to blame for this. I don’t want to hear you taking any of the blame for any of this.”
“Not blame, but maybe a miscalculation. And, oh God, don’t be disappointed in me.”
“As if I could.”
She took a breath, held it. “I quit my job.”
“Oh, baby.” Winter put down her wine, wrapped her arms around Sonya.
“I thought I could handle it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I let him win.”
“You stop that.” Pulling back, she gave Sonya a little shake. “You didn’t let him win a thing. It’s not a damn scorecard. You did what was best for you. Oh, I wish they’d fired the bastard!”
“For what? Cheating on me? You’re an administrative assistant in a law firm. You know that’s not grounds for firing an employee. And the rest? He’s too careful to leave any trail. Matt and Laine?”
Shaking her head, she walked over, dropped down on a counter stool. “They did all they could. I know they had conversations with him. And that probably made it worse in the long run. They’re giving me an account, a start-up I worked on, and they’re letting me take the two weeks as paid vacation instead of working it out. They didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not their fault. It’s no one’s fault but his. What do you want to do now?”
“I’m going to freelance. I’ve been toying with the idea for the last few weeks, and yesterday capped it off. I have savings, I have experience, I have contacts. And I have the Baby Mine account if and when they need or want what I can do. It’s a great little company, and I did good work for them.
“I’ll show you.”
She grabbed her mother’s tablet off the island, brought up the website.
“Well, that’s adorable. Oh, look at the outfits! Now I need a baby to buy them for. Wait! Sylvia—from work—she’s having her first grandchild in early December. A girl. I’m going to send her a link to this site.”
“Please do.”
“Handmade. Oh, look at the little caps. Little cat caps!”
Sonya found her mood rising as she watched her mother scroll through the site.