“Why didn’t you say so?” she asked testily. “I’m sorry I forgot to discuss it with you. I walked into the room and found you naked in bed with your dick in your hand. Did you really want me to discuss PR tactics with you at that point?”
He had the decency to flush at her words. “No, of course not. But afterward or first thing this morning would not have been amiss. Or – here is a novel idea – how about inviting me to the meeting in the first place?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Or am I only to serve you in the bedroom?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” She snatched up her coffee. “I made the right decision on the media coverage. Why are you upset? Would you prefer to face the media upon clearing immigration in New York? I can arrange for that to happen.” She gestured to her iPhone on the table, daring him.
“I have no issue with the decision regarding media coverage.” His pale cheeks had flushed red with anger. “However, that you excluded me from the decision-making process is unacceptable. Particularly when the decision at hand directly affects me.” He rose, and she glared as he towered over her.
“Like you consulted me when you drugged me on the way back from Kaliningrad?” she asked sweetly.
Fury danced in his eyes for a moment. “Yes, like that. A decision that I freely admit was wrong, and for which I have apologized profusely.” She flushed and looked away, knowing he was right.
“I am an intelligent human being, Sophie. Just as intelligent as you. I am also a proud, difficult man, but I am not without reason, nor am I a child. More importantly, I am not your possession. Which is how I feel at this time.” His calm frightened her far more than his anger.
“I would like time to myself.” He picked up his knapsack and gestured her back down when she rose. “Please take this opportunity to think about what I am to you. At this time tomorrow, we will be back in America, starting a new life. I had thought we would do that together, but perhaps you have other plans.” She sank back down into her chair, stunned. “I will see you on the plane.”
Michael started to leave, then looked back. “For your information, I am fully media trained.” Then he was gone.
They had six hours between flights. She spent it sitting numbly in the lounge.
What had just happened?
It was the Nariovsky anger, she decided. Michael having a fit of temper. He’d done it a million times over any number of things. He would sulk, then return with an apology, as usual. She sat there for a while longer, coffee growing cold before her.
Why didn’t I invite him to that meeting?
At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Michael had been through a lot. He didn’t need any more pressure. He needed to relax and have time to himself, not wrangle with the executive committee about media strategy.
And it sure is easier to get things done without him arguing all the time.
Well, it was easier to get things done without him. He argued a lot. In the end, they would have almost certainly come to the same conclusion if he’d been involved. It just would have taken longer.
So why exclude him?
It was easier. Since she knew him so well, she could develop acceptable solutions for him. She knew what was best for him. Even more so than Michael himself.
“Shit,” she said aloud. A man sitting nearby looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then went back to his newspaper.
This wasn’t just their old destructive pattern – his temper and her stubbornness. This was her being a control freak at Michael’s expense. Just like him, she had been profoundly affected by the last six months of trauma. His legacy might be impulse issues, but hers was pure control.
The man with the newspaper watched her as she cried.
Michael delayed boarding the flight. They had first class seats; there was no rush. He wanted to stretch his legs fully before boarding. As if walking around the airport for five hours did not sufficiently ensure all the kinks were worked out. You are nervous, he admitted to himself.
What if she does not board the plane?
He knew that was irrational, but the thought preyed on him. His temper ran hot, flaring up violently and subsiding just as quickly. But, when crossed, Sophie held a grudge like no one else he knew. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she would refuse to take a flight with him after their confrontation.
Yes, she should have invited him to the meeting, or at least consulted him afterward. But his reaction to her error in judgment had been extreme. He should have thought it through a little more before speaking his mind and then storming away. He was, Michael realized uneasily, having more trouble than usual governing his passions – both positive and negative.