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Chapter Seven
Talia
Ididn’t join Archer in the shower that Monday morning, but I was able to talk him into having crepes. Calista made herself scarce, claiming she needed to take her own shower, and telling him it was nice to meet him just in case she missed saying goodbye.
I appreciated her thoughtfulness.
Over warm apple-cinnamon crepes topped with fresh vanilla bean whipped cream, I asked Archer his plans for the week. He told me he was flying back that day, after all, though he offered to save me a seat on the jet if I wanted to join him. At my hesitation, he mentioned that if I came back with him, I could take a look at the facility and see what I thought. I could also check out my would-be temporary townhouse before flying back home to pack and rejoining him the next week on a more permanent basis.
“That way you can make an informed decision,” he said.
To which I replied, “I’ve already decided. I’ll do it.”
He also let me know he’d overheard me talking to Lis earlier when he said, “Charge me whatever you want, Wildflower. I can afford ‘astronomical.’”
He grabbed his suitcase and kissed me goodbye at the door. Just a brief peck, not the lingering, body-pressing, heated exchange I was expecting.
Then, he left.
I’ve spent the week practicing writing up a contract. After doing an online search and learning everything I could about consulting fees and contract wording (I couldn’t very well copy Archer’s, now, could I?), I finally cobbled together a respectable document. He not only agreed to the amount I asked for, he added in a section for bonus compensation if I meet his timeline parameters or do an “exceptional” job as determined by his team. It was all very official.
In between contract negotiations, I tidied the apartment for my extended leave and packed my mismatched luggage for my trip. I also transferred any personal documents, including the contract, from the laptop onto my cloud drive and returned said laptop to Ed Lambert, Chief Executive Butthead of Lotus Leaf. Thankfully, I encountered Krista while I was there, and she gave me my final paycheck. Regretfully, no bonus. On the bright side, I bumped into Prisha, and she offered to turn in my company laptop to Ed so I wouldn’t have to. I also successfully avoided Brandon. Before I left, I promised Prisha we’d get together at a later date over cocktails, though I knew it’d be a while, so I was vague. I wasn’t ready to share the news of my recent relocation plans with her.
A week after the day I spent losing my job and gaining a different one, I’m at yet another Sunday brunch. This one with my father and sister. We are seated outside under a jaunty yellow-striped umbrella at the Bread Basket, a charming seaside brunch destination. Calista insisted we eat here instead of Mango’s, which made me wonder if there has been a development with Julio, or Webber, for that matter, and she hasn’t told me yet. Alas, we’re with Papa today, and my flight to Ohio is a few hours from now, so I’ll have to grill her at a later time. Not having brunch at Mango’s also means no mouthwatering huevos rancheros. I settled for Belgian waffles with thick-cut black pepper bacon, because come on. Lis ordered eggs benedict with crabmeat, and Papa is digging into something called a chorizo scramble, but by the looks of it, should have been named The Heart Clogger.
“How are the jobs?” Papa asks us collectively as he forks up another bite of greasy sausage and eggs. His thick, dark mustache twitches as he chews.
“Fine,” Lis answers like a twelve-year-old who’s just come home from school. “My crepes are on the menu this week.”
I gasp. She didn’t tell me. How’d she manage to land an item on the menu Julio guards like the Hope Diamond? “The mushroom or the apple? And why aren’t we at Mango’s enjoying them?” I frown at my Belgian waffle, suddenly dissatisfied.
“Both are on the menu.” She shrugs, oddly humble as she focuses on her plate. “If we ate at Mango’s, I’d be staring at every plate as it comes out of the kitchen to check if my crepes were on it. And if they were, I’d be tempted to check each plate to make sure they were served exactly as I specified.”
“Ah.” I relax in my seat, understanding. So she’s not hiding an affair with her hot boss from me. “You didn’t want to be stressed out.”
“Would you be able to have a relaxing meal at your former workplace?”
“Former?” I feel Papa’s censure from across the round table. Lis flinches, catching her gaffe far too late. Granted, we scheduled this brunch so I could tell him I was flying to Ohio today, but I was going to broach the topic gingerly, peppering in the details of my firing intermixed with the opportunity to work with the Owen family. “You are unemployed?”
“No, Papa. Nothing like that.” I chew on a strip of bacon to buy myself time. Blessed nitrates, help me out here.
“She took a temporary job in Ohio with Archer Owen, who is a very talented builder. He needed a design expert, so he contacted Talia. Isn’t that great?” Lis is smiling, her head swiveling from Papa to me. So much for gingerly peppering the details. That was more an Emeril Lagasse-style BAM!
“When does this new temporary job end? How much does it pay? What will you do after?” Papa asks, not caring about any other detail save for my monetary security. My father, while I love him and treasure him and adore him, is a bit…old-fashioned. He wants his girls taken care of and has always encouraged us to find steady work where we can advance. Needless to say, my job-hopping has been a source of worry for him and was once blamed for his hernia. I argue it’s because he was moving a slab of concrete on the jobsite, but what do I know? Before I can answer his three other questions, he lobs one more at me. “What happened at Lotus Leaf?”
“Brandon stole her raise,” Lis blurts. I glare at her. She drinks her orange juice, her eyes wide with apology.
“I always liked Brandon,” Papa says affectionately.
Sadly, that’s true. He met Brandon twice and was charmed by Brandon’s, well, charm. I know it’s fake charm, and so does nearly everyone else, but it was effective. When I moved in with Brandon, my father wanted so badly to believe I was finally in good hands, that Brandon would take care of me and Papa could stop worrying.
Mama wasn’t that way. At all. She was assertive and strong, bold, and, like Lis, talkative. While Papa never encouraged either of us to go into business for ourselves like he had, Mama often brought up the topic of our independence as women. She didn’t want us to solely rely on a man for our well-being. In my adult years, I have wondered if their marriage wasn’t the healthiest. If she’d come to rely too much on Papa, or if Papa held her back in the name of protecting her. In the end, she passed away from cancer when all the protection in the world wouldn’t have helped.
I dust my hands on my napkin, my appetite vanishing with the thought of her. I miss her. I would give anything to run this whole Archer situation by her to hear her opinion. As it stands, I’m stuck with my overprotective father.
“Well, Brandon is now in charge of my former Lotus Leaf team, and I am flying to Ohio to work on a project for a few months.”
“Months?” His mouth drops open. The waiter pauses at our table, long enough for me to request a second espresso I don’t need.
