Page 23 of On the Line

“That’s because I agree with everything you’re saying.”

“Seriously? There isn’t anything you want to change? You like the built-in range hood, the island, everything?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “You’ve obviously already studied the space and thought about the best way to fit a lot of function into it. I’m fine letting you run with that.”

“Oh my God,” she says as she grips my forearm, laughing. “You are my fucking dream client.” Then she looks up at Jameson, where he stands against the wall watching us. “Where in the world did you find her? And can you find me more clients like her?”

He bites his lip for a second before responding, then gives me a small nod and says, “Unlikely. She’s pretty much one of a kind.” Then, pushing off the wall, he adds, “I’ve got to head to the rink.” He walks out without even bothering to say goodbye.

“If you ever want to laugh so hard you pee your pants, you should come with us to the rink on a Saturday morning. Watching Jameson coach a bunch of four-to-six-year-olds is nothing short of hysterical.”

“Are you laughing because of the kids, or because of him?

“Both. Come next Saturday, you’ll see.”

CHAPTER9

JAMESON

Colt

I need to talk to you. Drinks tomorrow after the game?

Jameson

Yeah, sure. Why do I get the sense you did something I’m going to need to fix?

Colt

Uhhh ...

I wait for my car to tell me there’s a new message, but the rest of his reply doesn’t come.

Jameson

I don’t like walking blind, Colt. If this is something I might hear about or have to deal with before I see you postgame, you better tell me what the hell is going on.

By the time I park and walk through the back door, I’m already pissed that Colt’s playing these games. He’s a good friend but an aggravating client because trouble has a way of finding him, and he never thinks it’s his fault—especially when it is.

“What’s wrong?” Audrey asks the minute I hang my coat on the hook near the door. I haven’t even looked up yet, but I’m sure the rigid line of my shoulders gives me away. I can feel a tension headache coming on.

“Colt’s just ...”

“Being Colt?” she offers when I don’t finish.

“Yeah.” I take my wallet out of my pocket and set it with my keys in the bowl on the counter by the back door. And that’s when I notice how amazing it smells in here. “What’s going on?” I ask, taking in the two pitchers of drinks in the middle of the table. The kitchen is warm and smells delicious, and when I glance over at the range, both ovens are on and there are multiple pots on the stove.

“Jules had a bad day.”

Because my sister cooks to de-stress, in a way we all benefit from these bad days. But this is different. “This looks like we’re having company.”

“About that ...”

“Hey,” Jules says, breezing into the room with a bottle of wine she must have grabbed from the cellar in one hand and her phone in the other. “Lauren says she just parked and is walking over, she’ll be here in a minute.”

“LaurenWHAT?” I know my voice was way too loud by the way my sisters look like I’ve slapped them and Graham comes running into the kitchen asking what’s wrong.

Then Jules bursts out laughing. “You should see your face. Oh my God, relax. I invited her and the girls over for dinner because she hates cooking and Paige is away on a business trip for two nights.”

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