“How many weekends did he work last year?”
Gavin remained silent.
“Average unpaid overtime?”
Nothing.
“Client retention rate?”
Nothing.
Then Eleanor looked at me.
“What did he tell you when you explained why you were late?”
I glanced at Gavin.
His expression said everything.
Please don’t.
For a brief second, I considered protecting him.
Old habit.
Four years of smoothing mistakes.
Solving problems.
Protecting bosses who rarely protected me.
Then I remembered his exact words.
I looked at Eleanor.
“He asked whether you were my wife.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Then?”
“He asked whether you were my mother.”
“And when you said no?”
I swallowed.
“He said I should have kept driving.”
Something changed in Eleanor’s face.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Disappointment.
She turned slowly toward Gavin.
“You told him to keep driving.”
“I was frustrated.”
“You told a man he should have driven past someone in medical distress because you had a presentation.”
