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He touches a hand to his heart. “You know I love it when you get all sappy with me.”
I send my pen flying through the air and he swats it away, chuckling.
Wyatt and I started our investment firm with nothing more than a little help from my dad, who generously let us rent a single office in his own firm for us to work from, all while directing small clients our way. We were only there for eight months before we had enough money and steady business to rent an office of our own, and three years later, we moved into the space we’re in now, where we’ve been for the past three years.
Wyatt’s my partner and my best friend, and we split everything straight down the middle, no matter who works what deal. He’s my second set of eyes when I can’t see straight and my voice of reason when I can’t find mine. Without him, my big deals like this wouldn’t be possible.
“Alright, get the fuck out of here.” I dismiss him with the wave of my hand. “I’ve got a call to make to a sassy redhead.”
Wyatt stands, stretching his arms over his head. “When you gonna bite the bullet and ask her out? And don’t feed me that I don’t date bullshit. I know you like her.”
“I already have,” I utter under my breath, tugging on my tie.
He blinks. “Pardon?”
“I said I already have. Like, three times. Maybe four. I’m losing count at this point. She keeps saying no,” I add with a grumble, avoiding his gaze, because he’s got a stupid fucking smile creeping up his face.
“Ha!” He slaps a palm to my desk. “Fuck, I like her.”
Yeah. Me too.
“See ya at the party tonight?”
I nod, picking up my phone. “Come by for a drink first and we’ll ride together.”
He salutes me with two fingers to his forehead and disappears while I dial the brewery rather than Claire’s cell. I like surprising her.
“Cherry Lane Brewing Company, how can I help you today?” the receptionist answers.
“Can I have Claire Thompson, please?” I rock back in my chair and slip the end of a new pen into my mouth while I wait.
“Claire Thompson.”
My mouth splits into a grin at her voice. “Listen to you, my sassy businesswoman.”
Claire hesitates for a moment before she asks, “What can I help you with, Mr. Beck?” I don’t miss the smile in her voice; I can hear it, loud and clear.
“Your greeting is such a stark contrast to the series of emojis I received from you this morning. I understood the others, but care to explain the meaning behind the ghost?”
She giggles, all light and airy. I love that sound. “I just thought he looked cute, so I threw him in there. His tongue was sticking out. What kind of a ghost sticks his tongue out?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “I take it you had a chance to read through Andre’s proposal?”
“I did.”
“And?” I urge. “Did you like what you saw?”
“I loved it. I can’t believe the price difference. And his ideas are fabulous.”
“Mmm, they are. He does good work for a fair price. Do I get a thank you?”
She huffs a breath. “Thank you, Avery.”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” I can see those green eyes rolling, her mouth turned up in the corner. I just know it.
“You can’t prove anything,” she teases with that hint of fire I love so much. “And don’t tell me what to do.”
“Right, I’ll save that for tonight when I bend you over your desk. What are you wearing?”
