Page 178 of First in Line

“Yes, please!”

I take one of the plans I gave her earlier and flip it to the blank side. With a ballpoint pen that was on the table, I begin drawing, explaining everything to her as I go. This is absolutely not the kitchen Jackson has in Tuscany. But his fierce protection of his private life means there are likely no pictures of it online, so she’ll never realize. Just like she won’t realize this is exactly the same kitchen arrangement as the second one I created for her. It’s not like Jax’s kitchen would fit into her budget, anyway.

To my delight, the deception pays off, and she approves the plans. We even shake on it.

I accompany her to the door, glad that our hour together wasn’t a complete waste of time. Then, once she’s off, I walk to Cynthia’s door. I lean into its frame with a proud smile, waiting for her to look up from her screen.

“So? How did it go?” she asks when she does.

“Pretty well, actually. She’s okay with the way I reworked the bedroom, and she chose what she wanted for the backyard. And she also approved the kitchen plans.”

“About damn time.”

“I know. I was starting to think she’d have a full house built with no kitchen.”

“Yeah, me too. Good job, Vivi.”

I pretend to polish my nails on my shoulders and blow on them. “Thank you, thank you.”

“I’m almost done too. If you give me ten minutes to figure this out, we can walk out together.”

“Sure. Do you want some help?”

“Honestly, a fresh pair of eyes might help. I’ve been staring at this for so long, it’s making less and less sense.”

I walk in and go around her desk to look at her screen. “What’s the problem?” I ask.

“This bathroom here. The client wants it closer to the children’s bedrooms, but there are the stairs right there. And we can’t move them, because then it messes with the ground floor, which is already approved and ready to go.”

“Hmm … what’s this?”

“Laundry room.”

“And it can’t be the bathroom?”

“Too small. They want a bathanda shower.”

“Of course they do… What if you expand the laundry room into their walk-in, make it the bathroom, and reduce the originalbathroom here to make up for the lost storage space with a huge closet?”

She looks at the screen intently, considering it. “It could work. I’ll need to check with them, but a well-organized wardrobe here can definitely make up for the lost space in the walk-in.”

“Yeah. They even get two places to put their things. He could get the closet, she gets the walk-in.”

“I’ll try to sell them on it, yes.”

She makes quick work of the changes and saves the project under a different number. “And just like that, it’s officially the weekend,” she lets out, turning her computer off.

“So, it’s not just me. This week was particularly long, right?”

“It’s because it’s getting cold. I had to scrape ice off my windshield this morning, and it’s not even November yet.”

“But almost.”

We walk together out of the office, and she locks up behind us before activating the alarm on the pad by the door. “Are you coming on Sunday?”

I wince. Everyone’s gathering at the sports bar to watch Jackson race in Mexico.

Ever since I’ve returned, I’ve tried to stay away from all that. It’s hard enough without it. We’ve exchanged a few brief texts, but nothing more. I reach out to him after every race, congratulating him. But I’ve said nothing about how he’s been driving angry. He’s taking risks, being aggressive, making snappy decisions… I’m not the only one to have noticed, but I might be the only one knowing why he’s driving like that.