Angel Falling (Falling #1)(75)
Mac had more to him than brute strength and the country lifestyle. The man was a genius. I clapped him on the back. “Well, I’ll be. You keep on surprising me, partner.”
“Lisa says that shit all the time.” He tipped his Stetson once at the rim then shoveled in another hunk of chips and plastic cheese.
This idea could actually work. The architect and I were well acquainted now. He bought into Jensen Construction, and even said he’d be promoting my company to his other clients when they had a job. I gathered I could swindle him into coming to a face-to-face meetin’ at the AIR building. Oliver could make sure she had the meetin’ on her calendar. He didn’t have to say that I’d be there.
The idea was getting better and better with every beer I downed. This was it. The time to get my girl back was now, and I was determined to make it happen. I just had a few loose ends to tighten up on the job and with my plan.
I dialed Oliver’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“This better be good, cowboy, because I’m already in all kinds of trouble with our girl over your sorry ass.”
He sniffed and I could tell something was bothering him. “What do you mean you’re in trouble? What happened?”
“Nothing for you to worry about. I just tried to get her to talk to you and she flipped out, called me a traitor, and told me to f*ck off.” He started to laugh.
“Well, hell, I’m sorry, buddy. Good news is I’ve got a plan to get my girl back where she belongs. I think it’s a good one, too. But I’m going to need some help from you. You in?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
The biggest smile split across my face. Two fresh beers landed in front of me. Mac and I grabbed the coldies and clinked the sides. “To gettin’ the girl.” I toasted and drank, my plan swirling, fizzing, and breaking into the perfect way to seal my fate and bring me an Angel.
Chapter 18
Week four of being without Hank had me in a better mood. A little pep to my step, but nothing to write home about. After lunch with London last week, I went straight to Oliver and Dean’s house. Dean answered and filleted me for hurting Ollie for trying to help. I apologized to him, then groveled at the feet of my best friend. He enjoyed every second. He may have even taken a photo for proof of my transgression. We’d been inseparable ever since.
Work was doing better than ever, bringing in more money than I’d thought possible. My stocks were doing well and the building addition was almost complete. The architect had called an evening meeting with the stakeholders and was planning to walk us all through the new building. At least my physical body and mind had moved forward. The blood red thing beating in my chest however wasn’t. I was hollow inside. Keeping pace yet unable to feel anything but longing and misery for what I’d lost.
Oliver had the meeting scheduled for five. I added a few touches to my barely-there makeup in the bathroom mirror in my office. There was no mistaking the tired woman looking back at me. I did my best to cover the dark circles under my eyes, the gray pallor of my skin. Even my hair looked dull and drab. Maybe it was the florescent lighting. Lying to myself was a new thing I did lately. It helped me avoid the truth. The truth I hadn’t admitted to anyone: I missed Hank so much it hurt.
Ollie entered the bathroom, picked up the brush, and fussed with my hair. He swept the loose pieces into soft curls and spritzed it a few times. He was a magician, capable of turning something ugly into something presentable.
“So we’ll meet in the Sky Conference Room after the walkthrough. Alex wants to take us through the new building first. Said it would be the best way to truly enjoy the final product. Then we’ll have a chat about the interior design aspects, then discuss the HR firm we’re going with to hire the employees of the magazine.”
I nodded. “Sounds great. Looks like everything is in order.”
Oliver turned me toward him. He cupped the sides of my neck and put his forehead against mine. “You know I love all your pieces right?” he said softly.
My body stiffened. I tried to pull back to look into his eyes but he held fast. “Ollie, what’s wrong?” I slid my hands into his hairline and tickled his scalp. His breath was heavy against my face. Why was he suddenly so sad?
“Nothing’s wrong. Just tell me you love me and no matter what happens, you always will.” The alarm bells clanged loudly, almost to deafening proportions.
“Of course I love you. All your pieces. You know that. Nothing would ever make me stop loving you. Okay?” I tried my best to make him feel secure, but not knowing what was wrong didn’t make it easy.
“Okay.” He rubbed his forehead against mine and kissed the tip of my nose. He shook his head, seemingly to clear it. “Alrighty, then. Let’s get to gettin!”
His smile was fake and plastered on his face all too quickly. I wanted to sit him down and find out what was bothering him, but we didn’t have the time. The stakeholders were waiting, Grant among them. Seeing him again after the case against Hank was settled would add salt to my open wound, but it was unavoidable. The bastard had gotten away with a couple hundred grand of my hard-earned dollars and a personal apology from me for “my boyfriend’s” embarrassing outburst at my mother and father’s home. He made me sick. Vile human being.
Oliver and I walked through the office buildings, only being stopped a few times to ask this or that, get a quick off-the-cuff decision on something as I passed. It was the norm and gave me the extra confidence I needed to deal with the boys’ club. At least Alex Benson, my architect, was leading the tour. I’d seen most of the building already, but only after hours. Didn’t want to accidentally run into Hank.