Page 15 of Almost Home
Her blink was the only thing that told me my hard right turn of a topic change had come in completely unexpected. Otherwise, her face stayed calm, eyes clear, and I wouldn’t have known anything was amiss except for that blink and the still-pink tinge to her cheeks.
“Okay. So I’m not fired?”
Maybe I’d sunken farther into myself than I’d realized and missed something, though I’d been fighting that very impulse. That said, I had no idea what she meant. “Why would you be fired?”
“Because of the thing with Juliet—I mean, Ms. Christensen?”
Ah. I’d been too harsh with her. She’d always been sweet and sensitive, a kind of foil to my brusque, quiet directness. Time may have passed, but apparently, she’d somehow held onto that part of herself.
I had to get a handle on myself with this woman. “No. And I’m sorry for making you think that was the case.”
She relaxed into her chair a bit more. “Oh. Great.”
I launched into an explanation of her daily duties—opening the doors if I hadn’t already, starting coffee if the same, checking voicemail and a host of other small tasks, and then, account management.
“Is any of this beyond what you believe you’re capable of?” I asked after a laundry list of things I’d need her help with. Most would’ve fallen to Diane, but some would come off her plate as I hired more staff. I could only do that if we developed a decent clientele list immediately.
“I don’t think so. I may need help with the formats for how you want things.” She scratched out a few notes on a little pad she’d tucked into the pocket of her skirt.
I gritted my teeth against the pleasure that gave me—the fact that she took notes. I couldn’t have explained it for any amount of money. It hit me just right, like so many things about her did, and I tallied it underthings that don’t matter.Because no small amount of delights would erase our past. One heartfelt but thin apology later, there still gaped twenty years and a million miles between us.
“Just ask.”
“Will do.”
“First up, I’ll need to go to the Reynolds home and see where I need to augment the existing system.”
Grenier had mentioned what their building contractors tended to install in the neighborhood he’d developed, but that was no guarantee she or whoever had actually built the home had taken the suggestions. One would hope these people would plan to secure their multi-million-dollar homes, but sometimes, people thought of Silverton as a safe haven from the real world. While I approved of that mindset on one hand, the town wasn’t without its issues. The continued influx of money and high-profile residents would only increase the need for security.
“Okay. That’s Juliet’s friend?”
I wouldn’t smile or find that adorable. I would not. I needed only to recall the wreckage that was my life for the years following the loss of our child, then the loss of her, and I could maintain a poker face through any inquisition.
“Yes. Madeline Reynolds is our first big client. I’ve taken over managing Grenier’s team and will hope to hire away a few people, but he’s been here long enough that he’s got everything in place already. She’s new, staying for long enough, and as you heard, has some kind of existing security issue we’ll need to address.” I’d debated pushing Juliet for more information, but she clearly hadn’t wanted to divulge what she knew, and I hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable.
Sarah’s eyes flicked back and forth across the room before meeting mine. “Wait. Like.Madeline ReynoldsMadeline Reynolds?”
Not cute. “Yes?”
Damn.How was I supposed to focus on what mattered when every damned thing she did struck me this way and I had to defend against it?
“The trailblazing woman who wroteDon’t Have it Alland just took a sabbatical from her Fortune500 job?”
I nodded, amused at her little advertisement for the potential client.
A smile cracked and broke slowly over her regrettably gorgeous face. “She’s coming here? To this office?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to meet her?”
I narrowed my eyes and despite myself said, “You may need to call out sick that day.”
Her gaze shot to mine. “What? No! I’ve always—oh.” Her lids drooped low when she realized I was joking and gave me the most unimpressed glare of my life.
And for the first time in I didn’t know how long, I laughed. Just a quiet huff of a sound, but enough for her to notice, too, apparently.
She smiled. “I have a feeling you don’t do that often enough.”
