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I won’t have to see him.
Fresh tears flood my eyes.
Why does that feel even worse?
28
Patton
“Taron left things in good shape.” Marley is in my office, and I’m staring out the window thinking of dark hair and blue eyes.
Seven days, and I still can’t shake the feeling of her in my arms. I can’t stop remembering a brief moment in time when I felt good, a moment when I could stop fighting. A moment when I let go, and the past didn’t matter.
“These accounts practically run themselves.” He keeps talking. “The building managers take care of the details, and we collect our share of the rents. It’s pretty brilliant.”
Cutting my eyes to him, I smirk. “Are you just figuring out how our company works?”
He leans back grinning. “This part of it.”
We made it to Friday, and I’m gratified he looks happy. “How’s it going at home? How are you sleeping?”
“Good. Getting the full eight hours.”
“Let me know if that changes.”
“I will.” He stands, walking to the window. “So back to Taron… While he’s got everything running, what now?”
My brow furrows, and I think how Rocky knew exactly what to do. One day in, and she never let us miss a beat. “You read the trades. Make notes of which companies are doing short, eighteen-month to three-year deals in the states and where. Then you cold call. Or cold-email, I guess.”
He makes a noise. “Sales.”
“What about it?”
“I’ve never sold a fucking thing in my life.”
“Time to start.”
“Come on, Patton.” He leans against the windowsill. “Send me to California. Raquel is way better at this kind of work than I am. It’s not my gig.”
I wish it were that easy. “Speaking of, we still need to hire someone.” I flip through the résumés Sandra put on my desk, handing half to him. “Help me sort through these. I was thinking an intern for social media—”
“That right there’s a mistake. Your social media marketing is your most powerful tool. You should give it to someone who knows this company inside and out and cares about it as much as you do.”
My eyes flicker to his. “You?”
“Damn straight.”
“I need you for more important things.”
“You’re not hearing me. Nothing’s more important—”
“Having clients who need office space, having elite properties for clients, putting the two together. That’s more important.”
He shakes his head, exhaling an impatient breath as he flops down on my couch. “You’re missing the big picture…” Then he holds up a résumé. “Mary Jones. She’s perfect. MBA from Kellogg, four years in—”
“Not another woman.” I flip through the ones I’m holding, discarding the females. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t care how it makes me look in my own office with just the two of us present. “See if you can find an Arab man.”
Marley gives me a confused look. “An Arab man? That’s very specific.”
