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“You just left my wallet back at Dove Point,” she giggles.
My eyes sharpen.
“So, you don’t have your driver’s license?” I panic.
“Not with me,” she answers. “But I am going right back.”
“Yeah, you need to fill her up,” I say, thinking I made a big mistake.
I am tempted to offer my driver to take her back, but then I would be going back on a deal I so grandiosely offered. I roll my eyes.
“I am going to regret this,” I mutter, and I pull out my wallet. I handed her cash.
“We look like we’re doing business,” I say and nervously scan our surroundings. Brynne throws her head back and roars with laughter.
“Appearances aren’t everything,” she says. “And we are doing business.”
“These people know me around here,” I say without thinking.
Brynne’s face flattens with disgust.I’ve offended her.
“Well, take heart,” she says stiffly, yanking the cash from my fingers. “No one knows me. See ya. Gotta go.”
She drove off before I got to ask her if she had her phone. If I left her purse behind, it follows that she probably doesn’t have her phone either. I watch, utterly speechless by the experience that isher.
“No license,” I say to myself. “Weird clothes, driving in my car, half blind from wild hair.”
My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket just enough to see who it is.OMFG.Her again.
I better go upstairs and talk to this woman who keeps calling me. She is an investor in the very project that did not move forward today. She’s going to want a progress report. Which is normal and to be expected, and I have no problem supplying it.
However, professional boundaries disappeared from the moment Adrianne Gollum became a part of the Red Hawk Calypso Complex Partnership. She blew up my phone. She sent me funny memes in my email. She also began commenting on my social media, after which I blocked her, but she somehow worked around it. Adrianne is so annoying that I am seriously considering bankrolling this project myself to get her out of my life. She is that bad.
I check my watch as I reach the reception area of my office. It is already a few minutes past noon, and I should be working out with my trainer – another reason why I’m not a happy camper at the moment. My receptionist, probably Brynne’s age, is eating a salad behind the console.
“Hey, Gretchen,” I say. “Is Brody in?”
Brody has a suite behind our conference center.
“Yes,” she points. “He is sulking.”
I amble to his door, which is open, but I knock anyway. He lifts his head. He is indeed sulking. I choked back a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asks solemnly.
“I was sneezing,” I lie.
“Were not,” he says. “That Adrianne Gollum has been calling all day for an update.”
“Then maybe she should be on site so she can see for herself,” I say without thinking.
Brody glares at me like I am nuts.
“Yeah, maybe not,” I say.
“So, you didn’t tear down the inn, which was supposed to be the star of the video we didn’t shoot today, which means we have nothing to share with our investors,” he snarks. “But you did give the tree hugger a hundred-thousand-dollar collector car and, by all appearances, a couple hundred dollars cash. So, what do you need me for? You’re handling business just fine.”
“I’m giving her a little time so she can get used to the idea of the Calypso being gone,” I say. “And she still needs to get her stuff out. There’s a small fortune in antiques in that place.”
