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“Hm. Good question.” I fight off a memory of Brock and Vanessa in the doorway. “I believe he’s in an important meeting. At least, his calendar’s blocked off from nine this morning until noon, and it’s marked non-negotiable, do not disturb.”
I know how important his meetings with his design team are. I know all about the deadline he’s under for the spring designs.
And yet…
He took time out of that ‘important’ meeting to see Vanessa.
What is going on between them?
Nothing.
Probably nothing.
I know how persistent she is, and how interested in Brock she is, despite his rebuttals. She probably showed up unannounced, and he had to deal with it.
That makes sense.
And yet, some primal part of my brain doesn’t care about common sense. That primal part of me is still reeling at the sight of him so close to her.
I tear myself out of my fears and doubts and instead focus on Kate, who is clearly upset. “What’s going on? I can give him a message or go up and see if he’ll pause his meeting to talk. You okay?”
“I’m definitely not okay,” she gushes in one big exhale. “Oh, Gwen… not at all.”
“I’ll go up and interrupt his meeting.”
“No—no, don’t do that. He’d hate that. You know how he is. He must be driving you nuts about now with his fussy ways. Honestly, I can’t believe you’re still fielding calls for him. You’re probably on the brink of quitting, like Mandy.”
“I only have to make it another couple days before the replacement is hired on.”
It’s a testament to my distracted state, me saying this to her. She’s Brock’s sister, and here I am complaining about the work.
Also, saying the end date for my extra duties aloud feels weird.
On Monday, someone else will be intertwined in Brock’s day-to-day affairs. Someone new will carry this pink sparkly phone.
Last night, Brock said he finds me intoxicating.
I took that, and other things he said, to mean he wants a relationship with me.
Is that what he meant?
Right now, I can’t even remember the details of what we said to each other. It’s all fading, morphing, getting distorted in my head.
But I can’t dwell on the status of things with Brock right now. Kate is really struggling. “Hey, you sound upset. You want to talk about it?”
The honking sound lets me know she’s blowing her nose.
I hear a few more sniffles, then a big sigh. “Oh, wow. Where to start. You sure you have time for this? I bet my brother has you running around, doing all the tasks he doesn’t want to do.”
“Of course I have time. You’re important, and you’re upset. Talk to me, Kate.” I set the shipping forms aside. They can wait.
“Well, his boat got in. Sawyer’s. Early this morning. And I was right there, like I was some freaking seafarer’s wife in an old story, skirts blowing in the wind, hand to my brow, braving the bitter cold because I couldn’t wait to see him land. We went to this little diner.”
“That sounds cozy.”
“It wasn’t. It was old and dirty and smelled like sardines. And—and—” She sniffs loudly. “I told him everything… that I l-l-looooved him.” Honk. “And he stared at me like I was an alien space creature! And when the waitress finally came over to serve us this awful lukewarm coffee, he ordered French toast and an extra side of bacon…”
“Wait, you told him you loved him, and he ordered breakfast?”
