Chapter Thirteen
“I’ve given you two months to get your act together, Leigh,” Karen says. “Nothing has changed. It’s all just words, words, words.” She delves into her purse and produces the key I gave her a few weeks ago, as a token of my commitment. “I won’t be needing this anymore.”
I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. But the partnership offer came two days after Karen and I had that conversation, and what was I supposed to say? “I’ll gladly accept your offer, Mister Schmidt, but I’ll need to work less because my girlfriend of only six months needs more attention.”
Ironically, because I’m not in my twenties anymore, I’m tired as hell on this particular Friday evening when Karen raises the issue again, because I’ve just worked a seventy-hour week—of which seventy-five percent are bi
