Job's face crumpled into a pitiful, on-the-verge-of-tears look. "I just didn't want you to misunderstand Director Prescott."
"How thoughtful of you."
Fiona turned on me. "Rolf, enough! You threw your weight around at the hotel, and now you're starting up again at home?"
I fired right back. "You think I want this?!"
Job tugged at Fiona's sleeve. "Let it go, Director Prescott. He's your husband, after all. I'm just an assistant. A little mistreatment won't kill me."
"So what if he's my husband? That doesn't give him the right to bully you!"
"Let's get a divorce, Fiona."
She froze. "What did you say?"
"I said divorce."
"You want a divorce over something this petty?"
"You think this is petty?"
"Nothing happened between me and Job. He's just a kid who just started working. I look out for him a little more than usual. What's wrong with that?"
"I don't want my woman looking after another man. It disgusts me."
Fiona snapped like a cornered animal, fury exploding out of her in an instant.
"Fine. You want a divorce? Then you leave with nothing. My money, my house, none of it has anything to do with you. Without me, you won't even be able to afford your next meal!"