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“You didn’t ask me,” she says.

“I didn’t think it would be a problem,” I reply.

“That’s because you didn’t ask me,” she says.

I lean back in my chair. “It’s two days,” I say.

“I have a review with Margaret and Amelia on Thursday,” she says.

“We’ve been working toward it all week, and I need Wednesday to finish the supporting files.”

“We can move the review,” I say.

Her eyebrows lift. “No, we can’t,” she says.

“Yes, we can,” I reply.

“Margaret’s schedule is flexible enough, and Amelia can shift the documentation meeting.”

Blaire lowers her phone slowly.

“Do you hear yourself?” she asks.

I feel my patience tighten.

“I’m trying to solve the conflict,” I say.

“No, you’re deciding that my conflict doesn’t matter because you can rearrange everyone involved,” she says.

“That’s not what I said,” I reply.

“It’s exactly what you’re doing,” she says.

I close the folder in front of me.

“Blaire, I have to be in Brussels,” I say.

“I thought you’d enjoy coming with me, and I arranged things so we’d have time together while we’re there.”

“That would’ve been lovely if you’d asked me first,” she says.

“I didn’t realize an invitation required this much negotiation,” I reply.

“It stopped being an invitation when you booked it before I agreed,” she says.

I push back from the desk and stand.

“You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be,” I say.

Her expression changes.

“Am I?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“You have work to do. I understand that. I can have the review moved by a day, you can finish what you need to finish from Brussels, and nothing falls apart.”

Blaire folds her arms.