Page 16 of Hot Assets: The Carmichael Triplets

“You have a dog now?”

Robin shook her head. “Not right now. My last boyfriend hated animals in the house, so I couldn’t get one.”

“Didn’t you dump that guy?”

“Yep. Last month.” Robin reached down and picked up Baxter. “Now that you mention it, I think I’ll start looking for a dog that needs a good home.” Baxter licked her nose, and she laughed. “And what’s his—or is it her?—name?”

“This is Baxter. He’s Lillian’s dog. The last thing she made me swear before she left for the hospital was that I would take Baxter until she comes home.”

“Poor Lillian. How is she this morning?”

“I called, but the hospital wouldn’t give me any information since I’m not family. I thought I’d go up there at lunch, if you don’t mind keeping Baxter.”

Robin’s face lit up. “I’d love to.”

“Let’s take a look at my schedule and see what I can reschedule for today.”

Carrying the tiny dog in the crock of her arm, Robin jostled her mouse on her desk to wake up her computer and opened the calendar. “Looks pretty clear. You’d set aside most of this week to work on your report to the foundation board. However, you do have lunch scheduled with Richard today.”

Richard Pittman was an investment banker I’d been seeing off and on for a few months. He was charming, polite, well-dressed, and attentive, both in bed and out. However, he’d never set my heart racing nor my belly squeezing when we were together. I’d hoped, with time, he would grow on me, but he hadn’t, and lately, I’d given thought to ending the relationship.

“Cancel lunch with Richard. Tell him something came up. He’ll understand.”

Robin nodded. “Sure. Are you in or out to staff today?”

On days before my meeting with the foundation board, which was comprised of my sisters, our parents, our grandparents, and two non-voting advisors, I usually spent hours preparing my presentation, reports, and graphs while trying to anticipate their questions. These meetings were primarily a way to keep the family informed of foundation business. Rarely was there much disagreement with the foundation’s direction. My pet project was Carmichael Gardens, so I always felt a little pressure to present that project in the most favorable light. So far, all the grants and renovations were on track.

“I’m in to staff if you can’t handle whatever the issue is. I want to look over all the grants for Carmichael Gardens today. Can you get those together for me?”

“Of course.” Robin thrust Baxter toward Andi. “I’ll call your lunch date first and then get the grant information to you.”

Baxter settled into my arms. “Perfect. Oh, and can you call the hospital and check on Lillian Branson? Pretend you’re her granddaughter or something. I want to go up at lunch and see her if I can.”

“I’ve got it.”

Over the next couple of hours, I worked undisturbed except for a text message from Richard expressing—in ever so polite terms—his disappointment in not seeing me for lunch and asking me to meet him for dinner. Not nice of me, but I used Baxter as my excuse for declining dinner. As I did, I realized again that the time had come to nip this dead flower off the limb. As much as I would love to send a breakup text, my mom would have kittens. I could hear Mom now, “Very crass. Beneath you, Andrea. Face your actions head-on.”

Fine, but not tonight.

I tried to work. I stared at the words and figures on the sheets of paper, but my mind drifted to last night, specifically to Zack Noles. I’d always thought he’d had an interesting face, and adulthood hadn’t changed my opinion. Even through his scruff, I could see he was still incredibly handsome. With its creases, stubble, and occasional scars, his face told an interesting story of his life. Definitely something any woman would want to study in minute detail. He was still broad-shouldered with muscular arms, and narrow hips. He wore his confidence like a comfortable shirt. I wondered where he wore his gun because I sure hadn’t seen one on him last night.

Since work couldn’t hold my attention, I might as well check in with my sister and see what was happening with her day.

Claudia, aka Dee, Carmichael answered with, “No, you cannot borrow my pink silk dress, or any of my clothes, now that I think about it.”

I laughed. I’d borrowed Dee’s favorite dress when we’d been in high school and had gotten thrown into a swimming pool as a prank. The dress had been a pale pink silk and had been completely destroyed. My sister had never let me live that down.

“Well,” I said with an exaggerated huff. “That’s some way to treat your older, wiser sister.”

“Older by thirty minutes, I’ll grant you that. Wiser? Let me see your LSAT scores again.”

I laughed again. We’d spent our entire lives together, so when it had come to law school, we’d gone different ways. I’d headed to Yale, while Dee had gone the Harvard route. Even from a distance and being in different schools, our competitive streak had continued. I doubted that would change any time soon.

“So, what’s up?” Dee asked.

“Can’t I just call my sister because I missed her?”

“You can, but you don’t. Besides, I’ll see you in a few days at the foundation meeting and you only call when you need something.”

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