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There is suspicion in his tone, but I ignore his question.
“So why didn’t you just get on a plane to Chicago? You were fucking miserable at New Years.”
Timmy snorts down the phone. “Because I’m clearly not a smart man. What’s with the twenty questions about me and Angie?”
“My big bro went from a holiday fling to getting married in a few months. Can’t I have some questions?”
“That’s fair,” Timmy chuckles. “Tell me all about this new design process. I heard that they’ve already finished the makeover of Haven Property’s offices. You feel like a fish out of water yet?”
I make noncommittal noises down the line, answering his questions about the new design. I had to work from home for a few days while they painted my actual office. Since I already had navy furniture, I had them paint three of the walls with the off-white color. The wall across from my desk – that I spend all day looking at – I had them paint Ani’s sweater red. Because I’m a sucker for punishment.
Once Timmy hangs up, I ignore the text message from Max, telling me what a fucking idiot I am for walking out on Lillian, and justwhyI’m an idiot for walking out. I toss my phone onto my nightstand, turning off the lamp and staring through the darkness. I wonder what Ani is doing right now. She better not be on a fucking date. The very idea has me feeling sick to my stomach.
Chapter Twenty-Six
David
The red wall stares back at me. Taunting me. Calling me a fucking coward. Finally, I can’t take it any longer.
“Mr. Brooks Westerhaven?” Christine asks as she answers the phone.
“Hold all calls. I don’t want to be bothered.”
“Of course, sir.”
Dropping the desk phone into its cradle, I snatch up my phone and place a call through to Ani.
“This is Ani. Leave a message.”
What the fuck? Scowling, I place another call.
“Haven Enterprises, how may I direct your call?” the pleasant female voice inquires.
“I’d like to be put through to Anica Kasan.”
“One moment, please.”
She’s only gone for about thirty seconds when the music cuts out. “I’m afraid it won’t be possible to place your call. Is there anything else that I can assist you with today?”
Fuck this polite, distant voice. I don’t even bother to keep the anger out of my voice.
“I don’t care if she’s busy. This is David Brooks Westerhaven, put me through to Ms. Kasan immediately.”
At the sound of my name, the woman switches from polite and distant to fawning and subservient.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Brooks Westerhaven,” she gushes. “But I really am afraid that I can’t put your call through.”
Gritting my teeth, I count to ten to keep my voice calm. “And why is it you can’t direct my call?”
She sucks in a breath, so I guess my attempt at calm wasn’t as successful as I hoped. “Well, no one by that name is currently employed by Haven Enterprises.”
I stare at my red wall in shock. What the fuck? Ending the call, I pull up Uncle Bill’s number, dialing it as I shove out of my chair, pacing the length of my office, my fingers running through my hair.
“This is Bill Westerhaven. If it’s important, call Cathy. Otherwise, leave a message.”
Shit. “Uncle Bill. Call me back.”
I don’t bother to temper my terse tone. I shove my phone in my pocket, resuming my pacing, that fucking red wall taunting me all over again.
