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I pull my small notebook from my pocket, ripping out a page and sliding it across the upscale picnic table. “I do.”
He knocks his knuckles against the table. “Okay, and Beau, thank you for your service to our country. I’m glad you returned in one piece.”
“Thank you,” I say with a frown. Every time someone thanks me, it reminds me of who I lost and every once in a while, the people I saved.
He shakes my hand with both of his. “You’re a good man.”
I stand. “I just did my duty like so many before me. Let’s go up and I’ll show you around.”
Of course, we come out in front of Vanessa’s office, and I explain to Gary that we want to secure this floor and that Ben will have his men do all of the wiring. Vanessa turns around, holding paperwork in her hand as she gives me a soft expression. It’s not mad or overjoyed, just a gentle pull of her lips and rounded eyes that lets me know my presence has affected her.
Gary takes measurements and we talk about the other offices on the floor—and the cubicles, as well. “I’ll have a floor plan drawn up before the weekend,” he says as he pushes the stairwell door open.
Mrs. Potts is absent from her desk so I use two knuckles to rap on Vanessa’s open office door.
Vanessa looks up and motions me inside.
“Hey, do you have today’s itinerary? Preferably for the entire week?”
She taps on her laptop, and my phone notifies me of a calendar invite. “This will be easier. I gave you access to my calendar.”
Her lips corkscrew to the side as she glances at me. “Thanks. I need your personal appointments, social or otherwise, as well.”
“I don’t have a personal schedule.”
“So you aren’t dating anyone long distance?” I ask before I can stuff the thought back in my mouth. The last thing I want to know is that she has a boyfriend of any kind. Scotty could have misunderstood.
Her head shakes slowly from one side to the other. An unintentional breath of relief escapes my throat.
“I still need to know if Jessie or Wynter call and want to go for drinks. I need to know of any change in your schedule. Got it?”
“Are you going to be shadowing me and all up in my business?” She stands and her black lace bra begs me to come home to her.
“I’m doing whatever it takes.”
She responds, “I like the way that sounds.”
Me too, especially coming from her lips.
ChapterNine
VANESSA
Beau looks utterly irresistible in his sleek black dress shirt and elegant dress pants. His heavy watch wraps around his wrist while his large hand covers the gear shift. His muscles threaten to pop each stitch when he flexes as he pulls the stick shift into the next gear. Of course, Beau would have a stick shift instead of an automatic; he’s the ultimate control freak.
When we were young, he planned out date nights a month in advance. He’d have us seeing the new superhero movie one weekend, going skiing the next, so forth and so on. Saturdays were his to plan. Fridays were our nights to hang out with Jessie, Mark, Wynter, Scotty, and other friends. Those nights were spontaneous. I would suggest we go to the springs or camp out by the lake at the last minute, and everyone was down.
But even on those nights, Beau had to find some kind of control. If the rest of us were drinking, he would limit himself to one or two beers. Our safety was always in the forefront of his mind. He’d say, “Nessa, you’re worth more than a drunk night. Worth more than a funny but fuzzy memory.”
Both of us brought a different prism to the relationship. I let out a heavy sigh—he’s always been my protector.
“Beau?”
He glances over at me before his eyes return to the three lanes of traffic on Interstate 65, luckily traffic is light. “Hmm?”
“What happened over there? You seem more reserved.” Assuming he doesn’t want to answer, my hands begin to sweat, so I wipe them against his leather seats. “We used to be the life of the party.” Afraid he’ll get upset, I turn my head toward the scenery passing by.
He finally cracks a smile and lets out a skeptical life. “Let’s rephrase that…youwere the life of every party.”
