Shannon:Awesome. I’m popping some headache medicine before I go in
Patrick:Wait. You never told me about New Mexico.
Shannon:It was good. Really good.
Patrick:Did you try any fry bread?
Shannon:No…
Patrick:Back to neutral?
Shannon:All the way.
*
“Knock, knock.” Ileaned against Sam’s door while he pored over the blueprints on his desk. “Have a minute to spare?”
He nodded, and rolled up the plans. “Sure.”
I waved a take-out menu. “I was going to place a lunch order. Did you want anything?”
“I’m good,” he said, pointing to a covered glass bowl that appeared to contain kale and apples. He hadn’t said much, but his tone was decidedly cool. He wasn’t interested in this chat. “What’s up?”
“Just a few things.” I studied my palm while thinking through the list of things I wanted to cover before getting to the ‘Hey, your girlfriend is kind of a bitch. What’s that all about?’ discussion. “Your dry cleaning was dropped off this morning, and it’s in the back seat of your car. I checked in with your endocrinologist’s office, and your appointment is next Monday afternoon. They’ll have you do some blood work too, so I blocked that time on your calendar. I sorted out your expenses from last month, and assigned costs to clients as best as I could determine. I’ll need you to look it over, but that will be quick. And I had Tom arrange your travel to that conference in January, the one in Arizona.” I traced the circumference of my bracelets before glancing up. “I was really bummed that I didn’t get to meet Tiel. Everyone said she was…intriguing.”
His expression shifted from disinterested to sharply defensive in an instant, and I swallowed hard. I hated fighting with Sam. He interpreted everything as a personal attack, and while I was often hit with the ‘holds a grudge forever’ stick, he was the one who really struggled to let things go.
“Tielisintriguing,” he said, his eyebrow arched. “I’ve never met anyone with so many accomplishments, and I have to practically beat them out of her. It’s refreshing to meet people who don’t view themselves as gifts to this planet.”
“And some people are attorneys, Sam.” I held up my hands, resigned to the fact I was playing the part of the enemy today. Might as well embrace it.
“So it wasn’t rose petals and rainbows,” he continued. “I seem to remember you going all corporate commando the first time Matt brought Lauren here.”
“That was because Riley was being a juvenile delinquent.” I shifted in my seat, girding myself against the blowback that was bound to come next. “Look. I’ve heard several times that dinner was tense, and your guest was a hard pill to swallow. I’d just like to hear about it from you. Are you trying to prove a point, or going through some kind of angry girl phase?”
I picked at the hem of my skirt while anger—fast-breathing, wide-eyed, jaw-twitching anger—rippled through Sam.
“Has it occurred to you thatweare a bit intense, and not everyone handles this tribe the same way?” he asked.
“No, not really.” The last thing he wanted was me invading more of his space, so I did exactly that and scooted closer, folding my arms on his desk. “It has occurred to me that you might be having some difficulties coping with stress. We’ve been talking about Angus’s estate and the work at Wellesley a lot, and I know those are triggers for you. I don’t think adding a toxic relationship with this girl is going to help you, and maybe it’s time to get an appointment with Dr. Robertsen.”
“Shannon, I’m going to say this once.”
His breath whooshed out as he stood, his palms flat on his desk, and I couldn’t decide whether his fury stemmed from talk of Tiel or his generally irritable disposition these days. I was no stranger to macho chest-thumping, but this seemed more complicated than standing up for his lady.
Sam closed his eyes, his chest heaving, and pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
Riley stood in the doorway, his fingers raking through his thick hair. “What did you do?” he mouthed.
“Nothing good,” I whispered.
“And thank you kindly for that,” Riley said under his breath, his gaze on Sam. “Now I get to spend the afternoon with the Hulk.”
Sam blew out a long breath and looked up at us. He did that a lot—counting, deep breathing, tuning into his heart rate—but it didn’t appear to be working today.
“Hey,” Riley said, slow and friendly, as if he was trying to coax a skittish puppy to his side. “We’re walking properties this afternoon, right?” He made a show of looking at his notebook, and back up at Sam. “Yeah, you wanted to check out the Turlan basement now that the power washing is finished. We also have five others to see.”
I waited while Sam tossed his things into his messenger bag and stormed out of his office, and then I glanced back to Riley. “That was productive,” I murmured.
