Braxton--Meeting with the Husband

Close up, Jeff Thompson looks even more different than he had at a distance, when he was in his office, working. Or, at least, pretending to work. Normally, whenever he is in my presence, he has a cocky attitude, like he wants to prove he’s just as good as I am, that he is worthy to be in the same room as me.

Today, he is different. His eyes have bags beneath them, as if he hasn’t slept. His suit is disheveled, as if it hasn’t been ironed. I imagine that’s because he hasn’t ironed it himself, and Julia wasn’t there to do it for him, though I can’t imagine that Julia is behind in her ironing, and there weren’t other options.

He sits down in the chair across from me, a smug look on his face. I want to know what he is thinking. Does he feel defeated? Or does he realize he has some leverage here? Jeff Thompson has the only thing in the world I want that I cannot buy.

Except… everything has a price, doesn’t it?

“Thanks for meeting with me, Thompson,” I say, trying to meet his eyes. I have