Page 12 of A Surefire Love
“I’m going to go change. Dinner tonight?”
She extended her hand toward the phone. “I promised some of the Branching Out students a girl’s night before the school year starts, remember? Tonight was the one that worked for everyone.”
“How about tomorrow?”
She nodded as she picked up the call.
He let himself out. He’d thought Sydney would rule out the idea of Blaze helping as quickly as he had. Instead, she’d given a list of reasons to give it a try. Maybe he’d been too quick to rule her out.
Blaze’s officeat the dealership was quiet. Too quiet.
She drummed her hands against her thighs. She preferred chatting up clients on the sales floor to running reports in her windowless office. Every day since she’d taken the promotion, she felt like the kid stuck in summer school while the others enjoyed water parks.
To burn off some energy, she hopped out of her seat and shook out her arms.
There. Better. Right? She lowered back into her desk chair, and her gaze wandered yet again to her phone. Responding to Anson’s text shouldn’t require a day of strategizing. She ought to get it over with. Then she’d have a clear mind to finish her team’s commission and bonus report, already a day overdue. If she dragged her feet much longer, checks would be late, and checks could not be late. People depended on her.
But the numbers on her screen blurred together. Anson had never said whether she could help with Rooted. Wouldher overreaction to Mercy’s sprain cause him to turn her down? The numbers wouldn’t focus until she had an answer.
She picked up her phone and opened his message.
Hey, Blaze. It’s Anson. How’s Mercy?
They’d never texted before, hence the introduction. Presumably, he’d looked her up in the church directory. Or on Mercy’s emergency contact form, filed away at the church.
He probably saw multiple sprains each season as a coach and responded with far less drama. Then again, carrying Mercy had been his idea.
Blaze typed,She’s on crutches but in good spirits.
Keeping her on the crutches for the recommended week would be a miracle. Mercy shared Blaze’s restlessness.
“Am I interrupting?” Tony’s short, heavy-set frame ambled into the office.
She fumbled her phone, and it landed with a clunk beside her keyboard. “Not at all. Mercy sprained her ankle last night. It’s a whole thing.” She straightened her posture. “What can I do for you?”
“You know why I promoted you?” He dropped into the chair across from her and interlaced his fingers over his belly.
“Because I hold the record for consecutive months as the dealership’s top salesperson?”
“Nope. Because of your humility.”
“Oh.” He had?
He broke into a teasing smile. “Yes, because of your sales record. You were driven andgoodat it.”
“Were?”
He exhaled, pity on his face. “No one on your team’s risen to your level yet. They need more from you than flyby tips. And your reports are habitually late.”
She bit her lip and looked at the spreadsheet on her screen. The one that was due yesterday. “I’m trying. Maybe I could put together a mini-training seminar for my team? And I’ll set more reminders.”
“I already hear your reminders go off all day. You set them for everything. Including, if I’m not mistaken, to remind you to eat.” His bushy eyebrows lifted.
She gulped. The meal reminders had been more necessary when she’d had a job she could lose herself in. “I’ll silence them. I didn’t realize they were so loud.”
“Nah, it’s just a little bell. By the third time I hear it, I figure half of the angels have their wings, and you’re about to turn something in. Still”—Tony cleared his throat—“not everybody is cut out for administration, and there’s no shame in that.”
Her shoulder blades hit her seat back. “You want me to step down?”
