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“He might’ve mentioned he stopped by here this morning, yes.” Her father didn’t blink. For a guy who worked in accounting, he had a steely don’t argue with me stare. “What happened to your new employee? Didn’t you just hire her?”
Alexa fiddled with the wax paper that held her mostly uneaten sandwich. Her appetite was about as consistent as her emotional landscape lately. “She found a new position at Value Hardware.” Nope, the words didn’t singe her tongue. At all.
“So you need someone to help you,” her father prompted.
“Well, yes, I’m hoping to find someone. Preferably with flower design experience, but I’m willing to train the right person.” What else did she have to do during all the hours she wasn’t helping customers? “I’ll even take part-time at this point, assuming they can start within the next couple weeks.”
“Perfect.” Nellie balled up the wax paper that no longer contained her sandwich. Apparently she’d put it away already. “I just resigned from Gamble’s this morning. I’m a free woman.”
Alexa gaped at her best friend. Nellie had worked at Gamble’s for years, and despite getting fed up with the gossip mill, Alexa had thought she liked her job. Plus there was the employee discount, which allowed her to feed her cheesy shirt fetish on the cheap. “You quit the department store? With no notice?”
“I offered to work two more weeks, but Mr. Gamble turned me down.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been ready to leave for awhile. The politics just got to be too much, and I’m tired of listening to sniping. Besides, you said the magic words. Part-time.” She grinned. “So when would you like me to start?”
Chapter Four
When considering all the ways he could be spending a sunny day, willingly entering the icy domain of Cory Berkeley Santangelo was not one Dillon would’ve picked. Especially considering he was reasonably certain his brother was up to something. He had to be.
But that his brother was in the midst of a knock-down, drag-out fight with a petite blonde sporting chopsticks in her hair mitigated his displeasure.
“Victoria, we have company.” Cory’s jaw was tight enough to dislodge his teeth as he marched around his desk and resumed the seat of command, effectively dismissing his nemesis and the interior designer helping to stage VH’s lifestyle magazine, Vicky Townsend.
That they’d been sniping at each other for most of their lives should’ve lessened some of Dillon’s enjoyment, but he’d only been back in town a few months. He’d missed their combative style of foreplay, though Cory would’ve flipped had he known Dillon saw it as such.
“Dill, it’s so good to see you.” Vicky rushed across the room to hug Dillon. “I heard you were back in town, but you must’ve been hiding out.”
Dillon returned the gesture and grinned at Cory’s glower as he turned to his computer. Keys clacked with the impatience Cory couldn’t have hidden if he wanted to. “Been busy. You know how it is.” He held Vicky at arm’s length and tweaked her chopsticks. “You look hot, Vickster. Making all the boys beg, huh?”
“Except you.” With a wide smile, she slugged him lightly in the stomach and glanced over her shoulder. “And the master of gloom and doom,” she muttered, making Dillon laugh.
“I’ll speak to you later. I have business to discuss with my brother.” Cory’s impervious tone made Vicky and Dillon grin at each other.
“Ooh, I’ll just make myself disappear then, since you have important business and all.” Vicky stepped back to gather her large coffee-table books and fat portfolio. She leaned in close to Dillon on her way out. “Help him take the stick out of his ass, would you?”
“Hell no. He’s on his own.”
Vicky’s trill of laughter followed her out. When Dillon turned to Cory, he still hadn’t wiped the grin off his face. Vicky had always been the perfect partner in crime—and the ideal thorn to jab in Cory’s side.
“What did she say about me?” Cory demanded.
“Something about sticks and your ass. Which you’re on your own with, dude.”
Cory scowled and leaned back in his captain’s chair. As usual, he was dressed impeccably. Today he wore a navy suit, crisp white linen shirt, and precisely knotted yellow tie. “To what do I owe this surprise visit?”
“It’s not such a surprise.” Okay, so it was.
“How is the Kelly apartment looking?”
“It’s coming along.” Though his brother hadn’t invited him to sit, Dillon dropped into the chair opposite Cory’s massive oak desk and threw an arm over the back. Cory usually raised a brow whenever he sat like that, as if he anticipated a visit by the formal office police. “I’ll finish installing the new living room flooring by tomorrow. The kitchen floor’s next, after I deal with the AC. It’s not getting cold enough in some of the apartments so there may be a leak.”
“Is that really necessary? The AC work is one thing, but new floors?” Cue the raised eyebrow. “I was in there several weeks ago. The tile didn’t look that bad.”
“It’s a mess,” Dillon said flatly. “If you want to attract decent tenants, you have to do the up-front work to make sure they’ll be happy.”
“That unit is already rented,” Cory reminded him, his tone clipped.
“I realize that. I also realize some of the other units could’ve used that attention to detail before rental agreements were signed.”
Cory’s gray eyes turned as cold as sleet. He didn’t appreciate his judgment being questioned, something Dillon had been doing since, oh, birth. “Which ones?”
