Chapter 2One Point Short of Love

I reached out to grab it as Miles bent down to pick it up, only for Hallie to bump into him as she stepped forward. The paper slipped from his fingers, falling straight into the ice bucket where the ink immediately smeared into a soggy blur.

Hallie didn't even turn around. "I want to see those signed documents on my desk tomorrow morning at nine."

At nine the next morning, I placed the agreement in front of Hallie, unsigned.

She glanced down at the blank line. "Not over your little tantrum yet?"

She tapped the signature line with her silver fountain pen.

That pen was a gift she had given me back when I first joined the Translation Institute. Later, when I quit my job for her, the pen stayed behind in her study.

Now, "Miles" was newly engraved into the metal.

I reached out to pick it up.

Hallie frowned. "Leave it. Miles is used to writing with it."

"It's mine."

"It’s just a pen." She opened her desk drawer, pulled out a black card, and slid it toward me. "Last night's score doesn't count. Take this and go buy yourself something you like."

I didn't touch the card. "Did you engrave his name on it because he was a 'better fit' for that, too?"

Miles walked in with a cup of coffee, pausing near the doorway when he heard us. "Scott, I'm so sorry. Hallie told me it was company inventory. I had no idea it was special to you."

He quickly pulled off the cap. "Here, you can have it back right now."

Hallie held his arm back. "You use it for all your meeting notes. There's no need to switch." She looked over at me. "Scott, you were never this petty before."

My hand slowly went limp.

Seven years ago, she waited four hours for me in the rain outside the Translation Institute. She handed me this exact pen and told me I shone brighter than anyone else when I stood on that conference stage.

Later, she said she didn't need a partner who was busier than she was, so I stepped down.

Now, she remembered which pen Miles preferred, but completely forgot why it belonged to me in the first place.

Her assistant, Daisy, knocked and walked in. "Ms. Shaw, the Jerman representatives have arrived."

Hallie stood up, smoothing down her blazer. "Scott, come with us to the conference room. Miles just took over and isn't fluent enough to interpret yet. You can back him up."

I didn't move. "In what capacity am I attending?"

"As my husband."

"But at the party last night, you told everyone I had no part in this project."

She checked her watch, thoroughly annoyed. "We're husband and wife. Why are you constantly drawing lines between what's yours and mine?"

Ten minutes into the meeting, Miles had already mistranslated three key numbers.

The Jerman representatives' expressions grew heavier until their lead delegate, Mr. Hans, asked directly in Jerman whether the person in charge was even baseline competent.

Miles gripped his notepad tighter, casting a desperate look in my direction.

"Scott, translate," Hallie said calmly.

"It's his project."

"This is not the time to throw a fit."

"Last night, you said he was a better fit than me."

The entire table fell silent.

Hallie lowered her voice to a whisper. "Help him secure this contract, and I'll bump your score back up to eighty-nine."

I stared at her for a moment, then took the papers from her hand.

I didn't do it for the score. Inside that contract were six months of hard work from over thirty colleagues.

When the meeting wrapped up, Mr. Hans stepped forward to shake my hand. "Mr. Wilson, we were under the impression that you were leading this project."

Before I could answer, Hallie cut in. "He was only assisting temporarily."

Miles offered a bright smile. "Scott is a house husband. He's been out of the field for so long that he just jumps at the chance to test the waters again."

Mr. Hans looked visibly taken aback. "With talent like Mr. Wilson's, keeping him at home is an absolute waste."

Hallie’s face darkened instantly. "He isn't suited for high-intensity work."

She pulled the contract straight out of my hands in front of everyone and handed it over to Miles. "You worked hard today."

It was clear that praise wasn't meant for me.

At lunch, Miles raised his glass for a toast. "Scott, I owe you one. I never could've closed this deal without your help."

I covered the top of my glass. "I'm not drinking."

Hallie glanced over. "He's reaching out to you. Don't be ungrateful."

"I can't drink right now."

Miles put on a look of mild concern. "Is there something wrong with your health? I noticed you've been clutching your stomach all day."

My fingers clenched.

Hallie just let out a cold laugh. "He can't even manage his own temper. He's just faking an illness to get sympathy."

She pushed the glass right back in front of me. "Finish it, and we'll pretend yesterday never happened."

I looked down at the red wine swirling in the glass, a wave of nausea hitting my stomach.

"What if I'm actually sick?"

"Scott, using fake illnesses to beg for attention is the cheapest trick in the book. For this, your emotional stability score drops to a failing grade."

Miles quickly poured a glass of water and slid it to me, looking entirely hurt and innocent. "Scott, I know you're upset because I took over the contract, but you shouldn't joke about your health like this. Hallie hates being lied to about things like that."

I picked up the glass.

Just as the tension in Hallie’s brow began to ease, I turned and dumped the wine straight into the empty ice bucket beside me.

"I won't drink this. And I won't sign that authorization agreement, either."

Her face went completely cold. "Scott, you will pay for your reckless behavior."

Right then and there, she called finance to freeze every secondary card under my name, then demanded my car keys back.

When the lunch ended, rain was pouring outside.

She held an umbrella high over Miles, guiding him into the car and driving away, without so much as a word to me.