Broken Rules

Chapter Forty

"I think maybe you need to calm down," Wells says.

Let it be known that advising a woman to calm down has never once resulted in the act of calming down. I inhale deeply, then exhale through clenched teeth, pivoting on my heel to walk in the opposite direction. He stands there, watching me as I pace back and forth on the sidewalk, processing everything that just transpired inside. I came out here because there was no way I could sit back at my desk and focus on work after everything that unfolded. Wells found me about five minutes later.

"You calm down," I mutter.

"I am perfectly calm," he responds in a soothing tone. I glance over at him as I pace in the opposite direction. His hands rest in the pockets of his impeccably fitting pants, a smirk playing on his lips as we stand outside in front of the Seattle Sun-Times building.

"Do you think this is funny?" I question him, casting my gaze downward at my feet as I walk.

"No, I don't."

"Because we also most got fired just a second ago."

"But we didn't."

I glance up at him again, rolling my eyes in exasperation. How can he remain so calm after everything that just happened? Meanwhile, I'm here, feeling like a snow globe that was violently shaken, with everything in disarray and nothing settling into place the way I like. I pivot to walk towards him, shooting a glare in his direction as I pass by once more.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he insists, crossing his arms.

I turn again and walk in the opposite direction. "I'm thinking I'm mad at you for not telling me," I declare, abruptly stopping to confront him. "The New York Times, Wells. How could you not share something that important with me? I'm furious that you wouldn't tell me something so significant." Closing my eyes, I clench my jaw in frustration. "But I'm also so freaking proud of you. I mean, god, the New York Times, Wells. That's huge."

"I know," he admits, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I was just... I don't know. I was so worried that it might change things. I didn't know where we stood, or if it would complicate things with us, and then I waited too long to tell you," he says, placing his hands on his hips, glancing down at the floor. "And then Nora told me what she heard you talking about with Ellis and Delaney, and yeah."

"Is that what happened? She heard Delaney say you were a hookup?"

He lets out a soft sigh, nodding his head.

I clench my jaw, closing my eyes tight as I mentally remind myself to murder Delaney later this week. "I'm sorry. Delaney has a big mouth. That wasn't... if Nora... If Nora had just listened to the conversation a little bit longer she would hav–"

"It's okay." Wells says interjecting, "I know now."

I bite on my bottom lip, gaze fixed on him as I attempt to process everything. "The New York Times, Wells."