Page 32 of Back for More
ME:
ALECIA: So unfair.
I let her have the last word and return home with a big smile on my face.
It actually does feel like this could be home again, at least for now.
* * *
Next morning, I leave the house before my father does and get to the office by 8:30, after stopping to get takeout coffee from the place that Kate told me she goes to, to get Wes an Americano on the days when she expects him to show up in a bad mood.
By the time Wes shows up at 8:45, the Americano has gone cold and I’m completely engrossed in the real estate investing handbook that my dad loaned me. Yeah. Really.
“Morning,” he grumbles. His short brown hair is still damp, his suit is the same shade of gray as his eyes, and he looks like he could really use a hot Americano, or maybe just an assistant he didn’t accidentally make out with last night.
“Good morning! Your staff meeting has been pushed to nine thirty, and a…Bruce from Evergreen just called to say that he needs to talk to you ASAP because he’s at an inspection.”
“Did you try to reach me on my business cell?”
“Oh. No, I forgot about your business cell. But I can call him back right now.”
“I’ll do it,” he snaps. “What else?”
I take a deep breath, careful not to frown or sigh or roll my eyes like a brat. It’s difficult. “Your lunch meeting is confirmed, and the other messages are on the call log. Would you like me to print it out for you now?”
“Yes. I would.”
“As you wish.” I give him a toothy smile and print out the call log. He prefers to have his call logs on a piece of paper in front of him so it doesn’t clutter up his computer desktop. I follow him into his office and place the single piece of paper on his desk. I catch him glancing down at my long blue cotton maxi dress. I’m wearing a blouse and a belt over it, and it is not sexy at all. I can’t help it if the dress only looks good with open-toe wedges, and apparently, he can’t help staring at my toes.
He frowns up at me and then stares at the to-go coffee cup on his desk. “What’s this?”
“That was a fairly hot cup of Americano, up until ten minutes ago. From Limestone. That place you like.”
“You got this for me?”
“Yes. For you.”
He picks it up and takes a sip. “It’s cold.”
“I know. I thought you’d be here earlier.”
“You don’t have to get me coffee.”
“I know that. I wanted to.”
“Thanks. I can still drink it.”
“Fantastic. I’m going through the comps for the strip mall in Roseburg,” I tell him, even though I haven’t actually looked at them yet. “Is there anything else you’d like me to work on now?”
“Yes. You can heat this up in the microwave in the break room.” He hands me the paper cup. “Bring it back to me in a mug.”
I take the cup from him. “Right. I’m sure I would have thought of that eventually. Anything else?”
“I need you to call Brian Jacobi to get the operating statements for the past three years and the current rent roll for that strip mall in Roseburg.”
“Consider it done.”
“You gonna write that down?”
