Page 19 of Not In The Contract
“Alex,” Jamie whined, strutting toward me and falling into the other chair dramatically. “I’m so bored.”
“And I’m working,” I said, going back to the plans. I gathered the sheets of paper and set them inside the folder.
“But that’s so boring,” she insisted. “And you haven’t spent any time with me lately.”
“Because I’m working, Jamie,” I repeated. I pulled the thumb drive out of my computer and set it on top of the folder. “Which you already know seeing as you’re sitting in my office on a Wednesday morning.”
“You own this company,” she pointed out needlessly. “You can do whatever you want. Just get someone else to do the work for you.”
Typical of my little sister to see things so plainly. Of course, my life would seem easy to her. She’d never worked a day on her own.
“We’ve had this conversation before,” I said, and pressed the call button on my desk phone. “Katya, the plans are approved.”
“It’s lunch time,” she informed me, as if my stomach would let me forget. “Take me out.”
“No, Jamie.” I sighed. “I have a full afternoon and about a hundred other things to finish before then. Why don’t you take Samantha out with you? She seems nice.”
“She’s too busy working,” Jamie scowled.
I frowned. “And why is she exempt and I’m not?”
“Because you’re my sister,” she said simply. “Youhaveto take me to lunch.”
I sighed, long and hard.
Katya walked in and paused, glancing between Jamie and me.
“Here,” I said, holding out the folder and thumbdrive. She walked forward, avoiding my sister’s harsh gaze. “Schedule the architects in for the next available meeting on my schedule.”
“Right away,” Katya said, taking the folder and nodding. “Will you be having lunch in your office again?”
I turned my gaze to Jamie, who glared at Katya.
With a sigh, I pressed my fingertips to my temple. “No,” I muttered. “Please call Anderson and push our meeting,” I said.
“What time will you be meeting him?”
“An hour later.” I relented. “If he’s up to it.”
“I’ll get that done,” Katya said. “Shall I make reservations at your favorite restaurant?”
“Please, and thank you.”
Katya whisked away and my sister grinned at me.
“Shall we?” she said gleefully.
“That assistant of yours,” Jamie said dismissively, looking around the interior of the restaurant with a detached sort of interest. “She said this is your favorite restaurant.”
“She did,” I said, tucking some of my hair behind my ear.
I watched Jamie as she looked around. Her hair was a shade or two lighter than mine, curled where mine waved. She was barely eight years my junior, though her skin was as pale as mine. We shared our mother’s sharp angles, although she carried more of my mother’s scowl than I did. Only I had our father’s eyes.
Not that I remember. All I had left was an old photo that I barely looked at. Once, it was the only proof I had that I was part of a family. Once, it was the only possession I owned.
But that was decades ago, another lifetime entirely.
“So how often do you come here?” Jamie pressed.
