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“And she vehemently hates my designs and wasn’t afraid to let you know?”
“She doesn’tcompletelyhate your design. There have been some tears over it, and I did have to convince her to trust me about it, but yeah, sounds about right. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself or tell me what she thinks, that’s for sure.” I rubbed my face, feeling tense and anxious.
“Sounds like a real ballbuster.”
I looked at the ceiling. “She is. You’d like her.”
“But what the fuck? She doesn’t like my designs? That hurts.”
“Mos, don’t take it personally. She didn’t hate it overall. She just hates it for Monarch and for next to her family’s winery.”
“Still. It’s a bit of a knife in the heart.”
“Don’t be melodramatic. She said, and I quote, ‘It is a beautiful building.’ But she just feels that it belongs in downtown San Diego or along the water, not here in Monarch.”
“Are you going to tell your father?”
“Yeah, right. You know him. He’s a hard-headed fucker.”
She sighed. “Yes, he is.”
“I don’t know which one’s worse, Siena or Allan.” I looked toward the ceiling, praying silently for some sort of divine intervention.
“I could design something else. Even though I did pour my heart and soul into this one. Bitch.” She laughed loudly.
I bristled. I knew what she meant though. “She’s not a bitch.”
“I know. If she were, you wouldn’t be so sprung on her.”
“I’m not sprungon her.”
“Right. You just can’t stop thinking about her. Or talking about her. Or contriving ways to see her again.” She laughed at me from the other end of the line.
“Pretty much. What the hell am I going to do?”
“You can go with the old tried and true ‘No Care, Blaire’ maneuver.”
“I can’t do that. Not with her. And besides, I haven’t done that shit since college.”
“I beg to differ. Do you not remember . . . oh, what was her name? The cute redhead with the nose ring.”
“I have no idea.” I quickly sifted through the mental list of faces from my past. But I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember who the hell she was referring to.
“Couple of years ago. Down in Miami. Or Memphis.”
“Nope! It was—”
“Milwaukee!” we finished together with a laugh.
“Still don’t remember her name.”
Mosby laughed. “Figures.”
“I don’t want to pull that old trick. Not with Siena, anyway. It’s not like I’m trying to commit to her, but there’s more to her than just banging for a couple of nights.”
“Why, Michael Aiden Blaire, I do believe you’ve met your match.”
“Get the fuck outta here. No way.” I shook my head, although I felt some truth in her words that I didn’t want to admit.
