Riley cleared his throat and jutted his chin toward me.
“Yeah, RISD, I got the text. You’re free to stop being such a gossipy seventh grader.” She scanned the room and braced her fists on her hips. Gesturing to Sam and Patrick, she sighed. “While this looks all nice and civilized, the two of you better get back upstairs. I know why you’re here, and you’re assholes. Get the fuck out.”
Commodore Halsted would have liked her immediately, and I wasn’t far behind. I could see him hiring her to yell at his sailors during Hell Week, and I could see her enjoying that.
“Splendid to meet you, Miss Halsted,” Sam said as he shook my hand again.
“You,” Shannon pointed at Riley. “You can stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. That includes tattle-tale texts, too. Don’t do shit like that.” Turning to Matthew and me, Shannon’s irritated grimace transformed into a pleasant smile. “Hi, Shannon Walsh.”
“Shan,” Matthew started, “this is Lauren Halsted. We’re handling her project at Trench Mills.”
I extended my hand to Shannon. “Hello, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All lies,” Shannon laughed. “You know what?” She tapped her shellacked fingertips against her plum pencil skirt. “We’re writing an offer? Let’s take this to my office. Matt, you stay and deal with Bunker Hill. RISD, try to be useful.”
“I don’t mind. I have time,” Matthew said.
Shannon held up a hand and shook her head once. “Bunker Hill. Don’t argue with me today.” Her diminutive frame forced her to tilt her head to look up at Matthew, but that didn’t minimize anything about her orders. “Angus and I just screamed at each other for fifteen minutes so I am not having it right now. I promise I won’t break your…friend.”
*
I waited, watchingwhile Shannon hunched over her laptop and furiously tapped at keys until her eyes narrowed and she studied the screen closely. After several more keystrokes, she pushed out of the chair. In a thin Southern accent called, “Tom, I have a few pages on the printer. Git ’em in here.”
She returned to the table after pulling thick files from her desk and paging through them at lightning speed. A young man delivered freshly printed pages and she murmured in appreciation.
“Here’s my recommendation. Come in at this,” she pointed to a number and circled it with purple ink. Girlfriend liked her purple. Purple pens, purple nails, purple skirt, purple chairs, purple walls, purple phone case, purple calla lilies beneath a cloche, purple crystal paperweight. “And be prepared to negotiate within a swing of twenty-five thousand.” She scribbled a number below the circled figure and pointed. “I would be happy shaking hands at this number. How does that sound?”
I beamed with relief. Shannon’s figures were far below the listing price, far below the price Matthew estimated over the weekend, and far below my facilities grant from my fellowship program. “That sounds fantastic.”
Shannon went to work drawing up the offer while I scanned a new stack of resumes for the teaching positions I needed to fill. While making notes on the documents, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew without looking it was Matthew.
15:29 Matthew:hey.
15:29 Matthew:I am so sorry about Riley. And Sam. please tell me you’re not inventing reasons to disappear
There was my trap door, my exit strategy. I could say goodbye to Matthew, cloak it in awkwardness and embarrassment, and walk away…but that felt unnecessarily cruel. I couldn’t let him suffer, let him think his loud, unruly family was to blame when I was secretly loving their brash brand of hate-love.
And I still had until tomorrow before any fizzling was required.
15:31 Lauren:no worries. besides, your original ideas were very interesting.
15:32 Lauren:you think your desk can hold us? If it’s anything like the desk at your place…
“A few signatures,” Shannon announced, gesturing to the offer pages. I flipped through the pile of papers, smiling each time my phone alerted with a new message. “Tom will fax these and I’m going to call the seller’s agent to get some balls rolling.”
15:33 Matthew:I built it. It holds over 1000 pounds.
15:33 Matthew:So, yeah.
15:34 Matthew:if given the option, I’d take you back to my place and bend you over the dining room table.
15:35 Matthew:or any other surface. Several come to mind.
15:42 Matthew:this is torture.
15:42 Matthew:I want you.
15:43 Matthew:right. fucking. now.
