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“God!” She rolls her eyes, amused. “Don’t tell me you’re still madly in love with me.”
“You’re far too much woman for me, Angie. You know that.”
“Damn right.”
I take a step back toward the door, then pause. “Seriously. You’ve known me since...” I shrug a shoulder. “Do you really think I’ve got this?”
Angela smiles, showing sincerity in her wise, old eyes. “I think if you put your mind to it, you can do anything,” she says.
I nod, comforted by her response. “Even you?” I joke.
She laughs. “Oh, fuck off.”
I bow as I open the door.
“Hey, kiddo,” she says, stopping me. “I’m really proud of you.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re here through the weekend, yes?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer. “Lunch tomorrow?”
Her brow piques. “On you?”
“On Graham.”
“Then, yes.”
“Maybe you can finish telling me that story then,” I say.
Angela mimes a key near her mouth and turns it.
I exit her office, stepping immediately into the busy front desk area of Botsford Plaza Boston.
Paige rises from a chair behind the desk with her clipboard. Just like always, my eyes instantly draw a line down her body from head-to-toe. She wore blue today but, for the first time on this trip, I didn’t get the memo.
I wore the red tie.
She detaches her file and hands it to me, her movements stiff and cold. “Your meeting went a little long, so I finished the gift shop on my own,” she says, barely making eye contact with me.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “Angie and I are?—”
“It’s fine,” she says over me. “The audit is complete now, so... have a good weekend. Our flight to Miami leaves Sunday night at seven.”
My gut clenches.
Oh, right.
Flight.
“Okay,” I say.
Paige walks off without another word. She rounds the desk and heads toward the golden elevators, never once glancing back at me.
Graceful. Elegant. Professional.
Good.
