Page 18 of The Heiress

6

Iwas still on small assignments at work which made my days easy but didn’t do a whole lot for keeping my mind busy. So while a new dataset compiled, I took a stroll to the break room. It was essentially a small kitchen with a full-sized refrigerator, double sink, and a counter covered with a coffee pot, microwave, electric kettle, and drying rack. Everyone washed their own dishes and we had spots in the cabinets above to store them out of sight.

To the left was a round table with four chairs, and to the right was a rectangular table with three more. On the round table was a baking dish with brownies covered in plastic wrap. After I poured myself a glass of filtered water from the fridge I found my plate and fork, helping myself to some dessert.

“Warning,” TJ, our environmental specialist, said as he breezed in behind me. “Justice made those. They are easily the most chocolatey brownies I’ve ever eaten. My stomach still hurts.” He snagged a seltzer, popping it open and taking a seat at the rectangular table, his feet up on the chair beside him.

“Chocolate works for me.” I took even more than I originally planned. A stomach ache sounded like a beautiful distraction.

“Your funeral.” Then his eyes bugged, he slammed his palm over his mouth and sat straight up. “Oh my God, Sam. I didn’t mean it. I take it back. I never said anything at all!”

One of the things I loved about coming to work was that no one treated me any differently than they had before the accident. There was no tiptoeing or constantI’m so sorry.It was beautifully normal. TJ didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

“Don’t worry about it.” I plastered a smile to my face even though inside the sadness hit like a grenade.

“No,” he shook his head. “We should go outside and you should punch me in the face.”

I laughed. “I’m not punching you in the face.”

“Pistols at dawn?” he asked a little too hopefully.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” David came in with his hands up. “Why are we dueling? And who needs a second?”

The brownie melted into sugary sweet goodness on my tongue. The euphoric physical response pushed back the sadness. “TJ carelessly misspoke so now I have no choice but to murder him with a pistol at twenty paces to avenge my delicate sensibilities.”

David nodded once. “Sounds reasonable.” He spun to TJ. “So since Sam is sorted I’m guessing you need a second?”

TJ shook his head and collapsed back into his chair. “No one survives when the two of you get a bit in your mouths.”

David fist bumped me. “We’ve still got it.”

“He’s not crying yet. We could keep going.”

“No!” TJ shot up to his feet. “We will not repeat the Halloween incident. Good day to you both.”

David opened the fridge but it didn’t hide his shaking shoulders. “He’s so easy.”

“It’s a good thing he enjoys it.” Everyone at Excel got along really well. We joked and occasionally pranked each other. It was a kind of requirement to work here at this point.

“How are things?” David plopped down next to the brownies, strategically planning which section would be his.

“Good. I’m just about done with the last county assessment and ready for some real work again.”

“You’re sure? We’re down two interns so we have plenty of busy work if you want to keep things light for a while.”

“No!” It came out more forcefully than I intended. “Sorry. What I mean is, please for the love of spreadsheets, give me something useful to do.”

Understanding washed over his face. He spoke as he replaced the plastic wrap. “How are things moving along?”

I slid into the chair opposite him. “Good. I’m through a lot of the easy stuff. The photos, the clothes, half the furniture. I’m fighting with the electric company and one of their banks, but everything else has actually been smooth.” Now all I needed was to uncover a secret box of documents that told me exactly what happened with my adoption and whether the Roark family might hurt me if anyone figured out I might be connected to them.

You know, nothing monumentally huge or anything.

“Good. Good. If any of them are on our client list I can make a call. It might not do any good, but I’m happy to give it a try.”

“So about my next project…”

He sighed like my dad used to when I asked to borrow the car. “You can pick up your old schedule. But promise me you’ll back off if things get to be too much. We’re a family here and we’re more than happy to move projects around until you’re back on your feet.”

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