Page 14 of The Unplannned Project

“I never understood why you carry that thing around.” Luna Elliott, my receptionist, bustled in without a knock or warning. Neither of which I was surprised at. Her gray hair was blown back, as if the speed of her legs created a permanent breeze around her. I stifled a smile. I personally believed that her hair was always like this because of the energy and zest at which Luna attacked her life. Or anybody who got in her way.

Luna and Peter were the only remaining employees that my father had hired. Luna had been a journalist. Peter was only an intern when Dad spotted him at a career fair almost ten year ago. They’d been two peas in a pod, even with almost forty years separating them. Dad had always been obsessed with making beautiful things for his clients. Peter had been the gateway into that world.

Luna had been an entirely different story, one I wasn’t even sure I knew the whole of. I frowned slightly as Luna moved around my office, straight to the closet, where she began to dig out a pile of soda and flavored waters.

“You never know when I might need to work on something.”

Luna grunted, prompting me to move across the room to give her a hand. “Not the bag. I don’t care about that thing. I meant the laptop. Your father never did that.”

“Laptops were a bit new-school for Dad.” I carried the beverages to where the basket rested on the edge of my desk.

“Fine, but still, you work too much.”

I shrugged, frustration tangling with guilt in my mind. “I need to keep the business going. Sometimes that makes for a long weekend.”

Luna fixed those icy blue eyes on me. “I’m worried about what will happen to you if you keep this up.”

“Keep what up?” I feigned ignorance, turning on my laptop and settling into my chair. My dark-purple dress tightened across my thighs. Despite what I should do about Brady, I still couldn’t resist wearing one of my favorite outfits. You know, just in case he was looking.

“This schedule. You need a life too.”

“Like Ashlyn?”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. She was still warming up to Ashlyn since my niece had moved back in. “Maybe. I wouldn’t expect you to be quite so dramatic about it. She’s practically painting sunflowers on the walls.”

This time I did turn from my screen. “What?”

Luna smirked, her cheeks dissolving into wrinkles. “Just kidding. I expected you to be at least twice as dramatic.”

I chuckled, flapping my hand at her. “Noted. All of it. Now take your coffee and get out of here.”

Luna’s delicate hands pried the cup from the carrier and scooted out of the room. I went back to my email, scanning quickly over the spam, the personal emails. I was looking for new business.

Our deal with Leden was long-term and would sustain our company for the time being. But we needed more. The desperate, clawing need to keep the family company strong used to crawl up my throat to strangle me while I lay in bed late at night. But during the day, it receded until it was an ever present tightness in my chest.

I knew Ashlyn worried too, as a part owner. But I’d shouldered this pressure so long that it had only taken me a few weeks to slowly shift that worry from her to me once more. Ashlyn and I were more like sisters than anything else, and I felt like it was my job to shield her from at least part of the stress. It had taken an entire bottle of wine and plenty of tears before I’d broken down and asked her to move home to San Francisco and come to work for us.

I’d wanted her to have a chance to live her own life. To enjoy being in LA and being a young person with no stress. But that hadn’t lasted long without Dad. I’d needed the help more than I had ever imagined. And now that she was here, I was relieved every day that I had my partner in crime back by my side.

“Cici, where are you?”

“Speak of the devil,” I whispered to my still empty office. Raising my voice louder, I said, “Where do you think? There’s only like three rooms in this joint.”

Ashlyn’s smiling face poked around the corner. “Well, aren’t we sassy today? Trouble getting home Saturday?”

I narrowed my eyes, staying silent.

“You know, the night that you and Brady were setting fire to the dance floor.”

I snorted at her. “That’s a gross exaggeration.”

“You weren’t the one watching. It was pretty hot out there. No chance you let it get any further, did you?”

I took a long drink of my coffee then returned to my typing.

“Oh my goodness. Cecelia Grove, did you indulge a little?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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