Page 27 of Untethered Heart
“Love you, too.” I hang up, slip my phone in my handbag.
“Hi, Mr Huxley. How are you?” He steps fully into the office. His onyx hair is brushed back from his face, dark scruff covers his harsh jawline, and there’s a scar slashing through his right eyebrow. His appearance is just as mysterious as the reputation he sets for himself.
“I’m well, thank you, Alexis. I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”
“Not at all. How can I help?” He perches on the edge of my desk, one ankle crossed over the other.
“I have a new project taking over in the old theatre space. I asked Gen to look into the liquor licence for the casino to see if the new business comes under our licence or needs its own since it’s on our property but outside the casino building. She pointed me in your direction.”
“Absolutely. I’d be happy to help with that.” I turn to the computer and pull up a search browser. “Gen doesn’t really have patience for research.” I chuckle.
“That sounds about right.” He smiles and crosses his hands over his body, drawing my attention to the black spade tattoo nestled between his thumb and pointer finger. “How have you been finding your new manager role?”
“There’s a lot to learn, but I’m enjoying being on this side of things,” I say.
“That’s good. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. If you can’t reach my phone, just email through what you find about the liquor licence.” He straightens his black jacket as he stands and heads back toward the door.
“I’ll get right on it,” I say.
He offers one last tight smile witha nod of thanks.
I turn to the computer, pulling up the number for the government department that handles liquor licences for the state, as well as details for our local zoning council. I’m picking up the handset for the desk phone and punching in numbers when incessant buzzing erupts from my purse, and my eyes widen as I realise I left Claire in a crisis. I pull a muscle in my neck, overreaching for the phone in my purse while the cord of the desk phone restricts me to the handle.
CLAIRE:
I AM MORTIFIED. You know me, Lex. I don’t get mortified. I am a fortress of composure.
CLAIRE:
A queen of unflappable cool.
CLAIRE:
I’m dangerously close to losing my cool.
CLAIRE:
Lex?
CLAIRE:
Alexis Cordelia Morgan?
CLAIRE:
Are you ghosting me right now? WTF!?!?
CLAIRE:
Here lies Claire Jade Pryor. Survived by her impressive collection of battery-operated boyfriends. She leaves behind no friends or family since her bestie discarded her like a used condom.
CLAIRE:
wilting-rose-emoji
I quickly hit the call button on her contact while the other phone is calling out number prompts, but Claire’s rings out.
ME:
