Page 85 of Shifters Unifying
“Do you have any questions about the job schedule?” I asked, pleased I hadn’t missed the impending take down.
“None that your project manager can’t answer. Tell me what happens next,” Rick said. “Where are we at?”
“Tile’s been ordered and should be here by the end of the week. All fixtures are in process…” Olivia continued the list while Rick stared at first her hair and then her cleavage.
A few minutes into Olivia’s spiel, Sheila approached, carrying a small tray with three drinks on it. She placed the Marguerita in front of Rick.
He smiled at her and then turned to my beta. “Olivia, may I call you Olivia?”
“It’s my name.” Her gray-eyed gaze cut to me, and I shrugged.
He placed his left hand on the table, as though showing off his diamond pinky ring or maybe to show he didn’t wear a wedding ring. “Olivia, would you be interested in continuing our conversation about the project over dinner?”
Sheila made a sound, something between a giggle and a cough, as she deposited our drinks on the table. “What can I get you?”
“Three Phillies.”
“Easy enough. I’ll be back with your food.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
After Sheila left, Rick continued his unwelcome advance. “You know, we could find something nicer than Vixen’s.”
Olivia pursed her lips as though considering the offer. Finally, she said, “Mr. Moreland, I have a strict ‘don’t fuck the customers’ policy.” She gave him her best come-hither smile and leaned toward him, giving him a good look down her top. “But I’m sure you can amuse…yourself… with whatever fantasies you have in mind. I’m sure you understand.” She leaned back. “However, if you’re having any trouble, maybe call your wife and ask her to explain it to you.”
His face turned bright red. “I… I…” Then he sputtered, grabbed his Marguerita, and choked it down in two swallows. “I find that I’ve lost my appetite.” He stood and nodded toward me. “I’ll give the investors your assurances, Mr. Blackwood.”
I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing in his face. Olivia had just given him one of the better “go fuck yourself” answers I’d heard out of her in a while. Not to mention the bit about his wife.
“Good day, Ms. Reeves. I’ll be in touch.” Then he sprinted out of Vixen’s with his tail tucked between his legs and probably hoping Olivia didn’t have his wife on speed dial.
Once the door closed, I burst out laughing. “That alone made the trip into town worthwhile. I bet we don’t hear another peep out of him before the leasing office opens.”
Olivia took a drink of her Chilton. “Do you think he remembers he rode over here with us?”
“Fuck him if he can’t figure out how to get back to the job site and his rental. He should have known better than to proposition my project manager.”
“No doubt he’s heard some spicy things about me,” she said with a shrug. “Willow Creek rumor mill doesn’t let much go unsaid.”
The front door of Vixen’s opened again, and I half-expected Rick Moreland to step inside to demand a ride back to the job site.
Instead of Rick, an older woman stopped at the hostess station and cleared her throat. She tucked her dark, chin-length hair behind her ear.
“We’ll be right with you,” Sheila called. “Want to sit at the bar or do you fancy a table, ma’am?”
“Neither, please. I’m looking for Logan Blackwood,” she announced with a shaky voice. “I’ve heard he comes here often, and I need to get in touch with him. Is he here?”
Sheila glanced at me, and I nodded. “Logan’s over there,” Sheila said. “You can go on over. I’ll come get your drink order in a minute.”
The woman marched to our table and stopped. She took a deep breath. “Mr. Blackwood, I have a bone to pick with you.”
I stood and pulled out the seat Rick had vacated. “Please have a seat. Ms…?”
“My name is Sophia Carter, and I am looking for my daughter. And I know you know where she is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
logan
