Wow!
Gorgeous color.
I wanna do my hair like this!
But then, one stray comment caught my eye, only because it mentioned me by name.
Maria, you're stunning.
The small profile picture showed a man with his back to the camera, shirtless, hands on his hips as he surveyed the view from the top of a cliff.
Brian.c.builds
Brian C Builds.
Brian Chambers.
"Mother fucker."
I quickly logged off, my heart racing in animated beats. I stared at my blank screen for several minutes, my hand itching to log back on and click on his profile. Instead, I snatched my bag and stood.
Nope, fuck this.
I was taking an early lunch.
After wolfing down four mini fish tacos—I couldn't get them out of my head after Rachel mentioned them—and downing two cheeky Coronas, I started feeling a lot better. My heart had calmed, and the hum of alcohol and good food warmed me.
With Brian and his stupid muffins and social media comments forgotten, I ambled back to work with a fresh hop in my step. And maybe just a little bit of tipsiness
My calm mood carried me through the night when I ordered in and watchedHigh Tension,a French horror film I adored. I even had a glass of wine, something I rarely did on a weeknight if I was just chilling on the couch. I refrained from scrolling on my phone, a habit I did even if I was engrossed in something on TV—nothing to do with earlier incidents, of course.
I went to bed early and managed a few chapters of the new Emily Henry book. Even though it took me a while to fall asleep, I still woke up refreshed and ready to take on the day.
While driving to work, I did have a stray thought about whether I should call for an emergency session with Dr. Anna, but I cast my doubts aside. I didn't need one. I was fine.
Our week was booked out with appointments, and I had Friday off. I planned a session with Dr. Anna first thing in the morning before deciding to reward myself with a spa day inHelensville after. Yeah, I could wait until Friday. I was fine—good, even.
Since I had a leisurely lunch yesterday, I decided to work through it in my office. I even managed to spend some time on our social media,notlooking through comments. I would leave that for Rachel to handle from now on.
A soft knock on my door pulled me out of my invoice perusal. I greeted Charli with a welcoming smile, which instantly dropped. She had a worried look, but that wasn't what caught my attention. It was the large vase of what could only be described as a small garden laden in her arms.
"They're for you," her voice was timidly small as she shuffled in reluctantly.
I knew just by looking at her that, unlike the muffins, there was no doubt where this forest of colorful crap came from.
"Motherfucker!"
Chapter 23
Brian
Irubbed at the spot between my eyes where a dull ache refused to wane. I had a shit night's sleep, which was nothing new lately. I often woke bleary-eyed with an empty hole in my gut and a sharpness behind my eyes. Usually, my headache faded after my morning workout and a protein shake, but today, the stubborn bastard decided to hang around.
With a tired sigh, I grabbed my invoice book and flipped it open to a new page. I might as well get a head start on our upcoming jobs. I did keep a digital footprint that my part-time virtual assistant stored away once a week, but I still preferred to note everything down old school.
I started scribbling the material I needed for a new job we were starting next week. It was a straightforward roof replacement we could knock out in less than a week. I quickly noted down the required materials and priced them accordingly before calculating the man-hours to complete the work. I snapped aphoto before emailing it off to my assistant. Lord knows how he could decipher my chicken scratch, but he always managed to have my books accurate and balanced.
Shutting my book with a thud, I shoved it away in my work bag before running a heavy hand down my face, catching on the two-day-old scruff I couldn't be bothered removing yet. I stared out the small window in my office, not concentrating on anything in particular.
