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“No, I’m texting him. He said he’s happy to go skiing with kids as long as he gets to pick the bar afterwards. That's fine right? Mom and Dad can watch the grandkids and we can all go out for a night?” I closed the text thread and put my phone back to my ear. “We always do anyway . . .”
“Oh, that's definitely happening. I need to spend time with this Daxton, make sure he’s good enough for you. Speaking of—”
“I’mfine,Jilly,” I interrupted her. “I updated Mom and everything.”
Jillian let out a hum, “Okay, okay . . . you know I just have to ask.”
“I know, but trust me, when something—anything—changes . . . you guys will be the first to know.” I sighed.
“I know, James . . . you know we just worry.”
“I know, I don't blame you. But listen, I’m fine. Daxton is great, and I’ll see you in two weeks.”
“Two weeks.”
We said our goodbyes and, once my phone was free, I instantly went to the Spotify app. It had my usual song preferences on the home page, but my mind went to Elliot and his band. I typedSavaged Whittakersin the search bar and instantly the band profile came up. Elliot stood in the middle, his hands stuck in his jean pockets, his lips forming a thin, tilted smile—his eyes hyper-focused on the camera with a single eyebrow raised. The others—I couldn’t remember their names—stood around him, all with the same demeanor.
I chuckled at the photo and hit the green PLAY button—shuffling all their songs that were loaded onto the app. The first one was called “Cosmic,” and the next thing I knew, the melody and Elliot’s voice filled my apartment. They sounded different than they had at the wedding, and the few times I had heard them at the Piano Bar. This wasn’t exactly country, wasn’t exactly rock, but it had an edge to it, and Elliot’s voice was the perfect sound.
While theSavaged Whittakersserenaded me, I turned on my shower and stripped off my scrubs. Dinner with Elliot had lasted longer than I thought it would, and my evening at home was now shorter than normal. I mean, my night of rewatchingThe OfficeorSchitt's Creekwas cut shorter than normal. So, instead, I opted for music, a shower, and time to paint.
I glanced at myself in the mirror as the steam filled the bathroom. The simple scar that trailed down in between my breasts had never faded over the years, and had caused more anxiety than anything else had in my life. I lightly touched the end of it, feeling the rise of my skin. It had been twelve years since the surgery that saved me, and the scar would never let me forget it. But if it wasn’t for this scar, I would have never picked up a paint brush.
Shaking my head I turned from the mirror, taking a quick glance at the canvas on the easel that sat in my room. The landscape of the Utah mountains, surrounded by sunflowers—my favorite painting I had ever created. The one I planned to load up in my car and enter it in the art’s festival—all because of a little scar. It made me wonder, as the warm water hit my scalp and as Elliot’ssinging filled my bathroom, if something like that had happened to Elliot to bring him close to music, or if it was always in his sights. Painting was always my hobby. It wasn’t anything I wanted to make a career out of, but the more time I spent with my brushes and canvas, the more I wished I could doonlythat.
Only time could tell what would happen with my paintings. I wasn’t expecting much to come from the art’s fest, just seeing it on the wall of a gallery is all I needed to feel like I achieved something. Once that was done . . . only time would tell.
Chapter Eleven
-Elliot-
“So, that means, I’ll be selling the company, as soon as possible.” I shoved my hands into my slack pockets and looked at the team of architects sitting around the conference table. A phone sat in the middle, where I knew Clay was silently paying attention. Each and every soul in this building, and their eyes, were fixed on me. The tension was real, and I wanted to swipe it away.
“What does that mean for us?” Sharon asked. I knew she would be the first to ask something. She had worked for this company since the beginning and was one of the most well known architects here. Currently, she has three projects going—all of which were for big clients.
I shrugged my shoulders. I talked briefly with my mom about this, telling her I’d take care of everyone before I left. My dadwouldn’t want the team he worked hard to build over the years to be let go simply because of a new owner.
“It will be written into the contract that the team keep their jobs and current salaries.”
“You’re not selling to Anthony are you? He’s a scumbag?” Michael folded his arms and leaned back into his seat.
“No. No I’m not—”
“Don’t worry, Mike, I put a stop to that real fast,” Clay’s voice echoed through the room from the phone, interrupting me. The team chuckled at Clay’s response.
“He did put in an offer, and that's what started the idea, but I’m not going to take the first offer I’m given. I’m going to make sure you guys are taken care of,” I offered.
A few people nodded, one even gave me an understanding smile.
“It’s not going to happen overnight—hell it may take years. But I’d like to get the ball rolling as soon as I get back from a three week remote trip. Clay is going to be working behind the scenes with me in New York, helping appraise the business and finding the perfect agent to help. Once I get back I’ll start seriously looking into putting everything up for sale, and . . .”
“Are you going to pursue music full time?” a team member asked who sat in the back. He had his eyebrows raised and a smile on his face. I had seen him at a few of my shows, but we had never talked about that here. He knew I preferred to keep things between the office and the band separate, but I couldn’t help returning his smile.
“If all goes well, then yes,” I answered simply. “Until then, we still have clients to meet with and projects to complete, now Sharon, tell me about the VanGurt project.” I slid my normal seat out from the table, relaxing into the chair.
Sharon began to tell me all about the project she was currently working on, then it went to Michael and the others. The tension that had filled the room the moment I dropped the news I wanted to sell seemed to dissipate and we were back to business as usual.Even when Clay gave his run down on the current finances for the projects, and when Ophelia made a guest appearance bringing him his cup of coffee, the entire team chuckled at his change in demeanor.
Once the meeting ended and everyone left to go their separate projects, I retreated to my office. Now thatthatbig news was out of the way, I had to call Bennett and tell him I would be out for three weeks. I could hear his voice now . . .
