Page 6 of Trust Fall
“As I explained previously, Mr. Copeland, now that the plans have been approved, I will contact the Building Contractor to receive the updated timeline. Given the size of the structure you are wanting to build, this had to be carried out by a commercial company rather than a residential property General Contractor. They have the timeline ready for the build but were not willing to release it until the plans were approved.” Cleo took another calming breath. “I will contact them later this afternoon and will be in touch with you following that call.”
A gentle knock at the door sent a flood of relief through Cleo’s body which she fought against visibly showing in front of Jackson Copeland. “Come in.”
“Your two o’clock is here.” Lana ordinarily rang Cleo to notify her of client’s arriving, but Cleo had asked her to always do so in person when it came to Jackson Copeland.
“Thank you, Lana.” Cleo stood up, “I will be in touch with you later this afternoon once I’ve spoken with the construction company.” She clasped her fingers together at her waist and motioned toward the door. “As you can see, I have an appointment booked and my client is patiently waiting.”
Jackson Copeland stood, and without saying anything further, left.
Cleo flopped on her seat and Lana let out a sigh with an accompanying eyeroll. “I know we need to keep this one, but,” she checked to make sure he was out of earshot, and the next clients couldn’t hear either, “that man is a giant douche!”
Cleo laughed and walked over to the door with Lana. “That he absolutely is.” She settled on a warm welcoming smile, stood at the door and spoke to the couple waiting in her lobby. “Mr. and Mrs. Greyson, lovely to see you again, come on in.”
Chapter 6
Ivy
Ivy took the two large pizza boxes out of her passenger seat and locked her car. Walking up the steps to Lucas’s townhouse always felt like arriving at a home-away-from-home. She had lived with Lucas when she left college, then when he bought his home, she moved in with him for a few months until she was able to get her own apartment. She still spent a significant number of evenings and weekends with him untilGabby moved in. Even then, she was still there at least twice a week with them. Her chosen family.
As she reached the top step, Lucas opened the large and ornate black metal and glass door to take the hot boxes from Ivy’s arms and started to walk towards the kitchen. Shouting over his shoulder as he walked, “Jeez, close the door and get your grubby shoes off my nice clean floors.”
“Yes Dad!” Ivy laughed as she unwound her scarf from her neck, removed her jacket, and sat on the entryway bench to remove her army-style laced boots.
Lucas had always demanded that anyone visiting take their shoes off at the door, and even went as far as making any workers in the house wear disposable blue booties over their boots when carrying out trade-work there.
Ivy made her way along the hall leading to the large, bright kitchen at the back of the house. Gabby was removing canned drinks from the fridge to accompany their pizzas for dinner then setting them beside the plates which sat on the large waterfall edge island in the center of the room. Lucas sat the pizza boxes on the island and reached around his wife to grab some napkins for them all.
No matter how often she saw them together, she always got a kick out of how complete polar opposites Lucas and Gabby were from each other. Gabby was tall with legs for days, and muscular from having played volleyball through college and now owned a gym. She had cropped dark hair in a shaggy style that looked like she’d just rolled out of bed (but tookhoursto style), and the best wardrobe that Ivy had ever seen. Lucas, on the other hand, was smaller in stature, with short blonde hair, and hated working out but kept lean through owning multiple coffee shops scattered throughout the city, each of which he visited weekly, and would happily wear the same handful of outfits on rotation for the rest of his life if he could get away with it. Gabby had piercings andtattoos; Lucas had glasses and wore ties even when relaxing. Somehow, they were the absolute perfect fit for each other.
“Which movie is in the cards tonight?” Ivy asked Gabby cautiously, whose sole purpose recently was to educate Ivy on the cinematic gems of the 80s.
“You ask it like you’re nervous that I’m going to make you watch a birthing video or something! Have I ever let you down with my choices?” Gabby asked, hands on her hips.
“Dirty Dancing,” Ivy said, keeping a straight face for a solid six seconds. Just enough time for Gabby’s mouth to gape open and look like she’d just been hit in the gut. If she looked close enough, Ivy was sure she could see steam coming out of Gabby’s ears.
“What?!” Gabby eventually managed to spit out.
Ivy fought the urge to meet Lucas’s eyes. She bit her bottom lip and tried with all her might to hold in her laugh. Flashbacks of Gabby explaining the importance of them only drinking watermelon cocktails to stay with thethemeof the movie made Ivy crumble. Then she looked at Lucas, and the pair of them dissolved into a fit of laughter.
Gabby’s eyes narrowed as she took in the pair of them, hands still on her hips. “You two, suck.”
“Aw, c’mon, that was funny!” Ivy managed to get out between laughs. She leaned over and Lucas smashed a hand into hers in a celebratory high-five.
“You think you’resoooofunny,” Gabby said as she walked over to the sodas, picked one up and shook it before turning to hand it to Lucas.
He accepted it with a grin, tapped the bottom of the can a few times, and opened it without the desired explosion that Gabby had hoped for. “Worth it.” Lucas tipped the can in acheersmotion and took a slurp, his eyes never leaving his wife’s.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said while trying to cover a smile with a pout. She turned toward Ivy, whose hands raised in the air in mock defense, “And you! Wash your mouth out with soap! Nobody comes intomyhome and disrespects the mosticonicdance movie of all time and gets away with it.”
They each collected the food, drinks and plates before making their way down to the basement where the movie den was located. The room was painted a deep midnight blue with sunken fiberoptic lights in the ceiling. It had a wide sofa along the back wall and multiple beanbags of varying sizes scattered across the floor. And Ivy’s favorite piece, a vintage popcorn machine with red metal trim and a glass surround.
The movie was already loaded on the projector waiting on Gabby-- the Remote Queen—hitting play.
They settled down on the oversized beanbags and loaded slices of each pizza onto their plates.
“I’ll ask again,” Ivy said to Gabby cautiously as she raised a slice of pizza to her mouth, “what are we watching tonight?”
Gabby reached over and whipped the slice out of Ivy’s hand. “That’sfor disrespecting Dirty Dancing,” she said, taking a bite with a grin. “And to answer your question, tonight we’re watching the most epic adventure movie from the 80s: The Goonies.”
