Page 54 of Plunge

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Thistle

I WAKE UP in bed next to Fletcher, and I’m not freaked out. Quite the opposite. I feel sated and relaxed. Last night was perfect. He brought me amazing food, we watched gory movies, and he made insane love to me in various parts of his house. I wriggle around in the bed and feel the after effects of our activities.

I squint at the clock across the room and sigh. I have a lot of things I need to deal with today and tomorrow. I have to reassure Archer that I can make space for him and still take this consulting gig. I have to touch base with Sebastian about particulars.

As I lie in Fletcher’s bed, thinking about work, I realize that I’m becoming a consultant, just like the one who’s currently working my job. My job that has started to feel stifling and cold. I don’t like working for a company that just acquires other companies.

I want to work for people like Sebastian, who are making things and doing things. I think about what he’s paying me for this six month gig and what Smith and Townson must be paying this guy for half a year before he moves on to something bigger and better.

The more I think about it, the more clear it becomes that I don’t want to stay with the company. If I can work this contract for Sebastian from afar, maybe I can work other international tax gigs from afar. Oak Creek is an hour from an international airport.

My heart beats fast as I think about what this could mean for me personally. For the budding flame Fletcher and I have been stoking the past few weeks.

I’m making a mental list when Fletcher stirs. It’s so tempting to make use of the morning wood he keeps nudging against my thigh, but I really can’t. “Hey,” I tell him, stroking his hair, loving the way the dark, messy tendrils look between my fingers. “I have to go.”

“No,” he growls, pulling me close. “I have to make you come again.” He pinches my ass and pulls me against his impressive erection, but I push back.

“Fletch, I have to deal with a lot of things for work today.” He rolls onto his stomach, grumbling about the mess on the carpet. “Thank you for dealing with the carpet mess,” I say, climbing out of bed and giving his ass a slap. Then I slap it again, because I like how it feels under my palm.

He yelps and I laugh as he pulls the covers up over him. “I’ll text you later,” I tell him. And then I head to my parents’ house to make coffee and an action plan.

By the time I’ve finished my second cup, my mom has kissed my cheek and taken off in the station wagon. She’s really reclaimed her independence, especially in the past few weeks. I smile at how well things seem to be coming together.

I’m not sure where things are heading with Fletcher, but when I sell my apartment and formally resign from my job, it seems like I’ll have some time to figure it out. I make an appointment to meet a realtor in my condo later this afternoon and, as luck would have it, Sebastian is in New York City for some meetings anyway, so I set up a dinner meeting with him as well.

All I have to do is let Archer know I’m heading out of town for a few days and I should be all set. As I’m changing and packing a bag, I call his cell phone, and nearly drop mine when he screams “HELLO!”

I hear country music blaring in the background. He must be at work already. “Archer,” I shout. “Can you turn the music down?”

He does, but not by much, and grumbles into the phone. “What’s up, Thistle? I’m in a groove here.”

I explain that I need to go sort some things out in New York and tell him I’ll be back in a few days, ready to help him hit the home stretch before business filings are due in mid March.

“Are you serious?” He sounds pissed.

“Um, yes, actually. We talked about this the other day, remember?”

Archer starts cussing and turns the music all the way off. “Shit, Thistle. I’m in over my head here.”

“I know, buddy. But you know I was never staying forever, right? What were you going to do when my mom got better?” Archer starts muttering something about sweatpants and his sins and vice clients. “Are you maybe a little hungover from last night?”

I know he and Opal were at the dance with Hunter and Abigail. Something tells me they were imbibing in the spiked punch. “Thistle, I’d love to hear you lecture me about being responsible, but my assistant just up and quit and I am going to be here for twelve more hours at least.”

“I didn’t quit,” I tell him. “Turn the music down so you can concentrate better.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your shit sorted so you can come back to me. Ok? Please? I need you.”

I laugh as Archer continues begging and switches over to a ballad, which he sings to me out of tune. I tell him not to work too hard and then I’m in my car, zooming back to the city for the first time in months.

I feel like a stranger to this space as I navigate my way through the tunnels and down town toward my apartment. Has it really only been a few months since I’ve been gone? Everything seems to have gotten louder, angrier.

I pull into my spot in the garage and the bellman comes running over. “Ms. McMurray!” He shouts. “We thought you were never coming back to us.”

I frown and pat his arm. “Well, Don, I hate to break it to you, but I’m selling this place.”

He clutches his chest. “Not to Mr. Larry?”

I assure him I will not be selling my penthouse to my party-happy, overexcited former assistant and Don helps me get my things into the elevator. “The realtor is meeting me here in a bit,” I tell him. “You can go ahead and buzz her up when she gets here.”

“Will do, ma’am,” he says. It’s been a long time since someone called me ma’am and I decide I’m done enjoying that sort of treatment. Maybe it has been good for me to spend time in my hometown, in ways I hadn’t considered.

I walk through the apartment with Maggie, the realtor Larry found for me. He joins us at the end of the tour, almost weeping as he makes his plans to head back to his shared space in Brooklyn. I reassure him he will have no problem advancing in the ranks of the workplace, and be able to afford his own fancy apartment soon enough.

By the time I sit down to dinner with Sebastian, I’ve got multiple offers on my penthouse and Maggie has me hooked up with a moving service. I turn off my phone so it’s not buzzing off the table with her updates. The real estate market in the city is a little intense, but it looks like I’ll make enough from the sale to live off for a year at least if things don’t work out with consulting. My “spend six months on this contract while I figure out my life” plan is coming up roses.

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