We want to give him something meaningful.
SHANE
Ok then what’s your stellar idea genius
We could all pitch in for a tandem kayak so he and Mom can go out on the river together.
SHANE
BOO. Pass. Vegas or bust!
ETHAN
He has a bad shoulder.
ARIANA
What about a weekend getaway? Leavenworth?
LAYLA
What Ariana said
SHANE
How rich are you guys? I can barely afford my own vacation.
LAYLA
Says the guy pushing for Vegas.
SHANE
It was worth a shot
ETHAN
Just tell me what I owe. I don’t have time for hours of back and forthtexting.
GAVIN
Ditto.
I toss my phone onto my desk with a groan. It pings again, but I don’t even bother looking. This is exactly why I usually just handle this stuff myself. I ask for their input, and get nothing but bad ideas, sarcasm, and zero cooperation.
They’ll complain later when I pick something out on my own, but what choice do I have? Dad’s birthday isn’t going to plan itself, and someone has to step up and make sure plans are executed. If I don’t handle it, no one else will.
The buzz of the air conditioning is the only sound as I close my laptop and stretch my arms above my head. It’s the tail end of the day, and I’m the last one here. Besides Ethan, but he’s all the way over in his wing.
The interns left a mess in the break room with their green juice—again. I decided to let it slide this time. My patience isn’t endless, but it’s been a long week, and I don’t have the energy to play the role of the office drill sergeant today.
Grabbing my bag, I power off the lights and lock the door behind me, my heels clicking against the pavement as I make my way to my car in the parking lot. The sky is painted with streaks of orange and pink, the kind of sunset that would make my mom gasp and reach for her phone.
As I get closer to my car, something catches my eye—a piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper.
I frown. A flyer?
I pull the paper free, my fingers brushing against the cool glass of the windshield. It’s not a flyer. It’s a note.
