“Yes,” he says, the stress bleeding out in a single syllable.
“Hey.” I reach down and squeeze his fingers. “We’ll figure it out. New listings are hitting every day and Laura told me she’s optimistic.”
He casts me a sidelong glance. “It’s Laura’s job to say things like that.”
“Which means you should take it as gospel.”
He shakes his head. “You’re right. We’ll figure it out.”
“Now, if only I could talk Nan off of the edge she’s teetering on.”
“Is she still nervous about the move?”
“Yeah,” I say, putting my phone in the cup holder. “Which I don’t get. It’s like all of a sudden she’s terrified of leaving her house. And don’t even get me started on the fight we had about her collection of picture frames. No matter what I say, she cannot be convinced that four boxes of empty picture frames is too many boxes. I don’t even think there is enough wall space to hang them all in her new place. And that’s if she had something to put in them.”
“If there is anyone who can convince her, it’s you.”
He tugs my hand over and kisses the back of it. I yank it back and make a face.
“Oh my god, gross.”
Laughing, he turns into the parking garage below Flourish. The sentiment of his words ring through me as he parks and I’m faced with another opportunity to ask him about the party. I’ve swatted away more than a dozen openings over the last few weeks, but today it’s not holding the same edge that it once did. We sit for a minute, as is our habit when we’re transitioning back into our professional roles, the question I’ve been meaning to ask him burning hotter and hotter.
“Speaking of being convinced of something . . .”
He quirks his eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Keep your pants on. I know we are still early in this whole . . . dating thing. And you can say no if you want to, I don’t expect you to even want to come. But I’ve been instructed to invite you to a party. For Nan. Next weekend. Her house warming party.”
“Instructed . . .” His voice trails off and I realize how impersonal that sounded. “Do you want me to come?”
I bite my lip. I don’twantto want him to come. But I do.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be there. Give me the time and place, and I’ll show up with flowers in hand.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “Of course you will. And as soon as I know where this is supposed to be, I’ll let you know. Kara and Henrietta are having a hard time figuring the scale of things. We’re confident whatever it ends up being will not fit into the tiny one bedroom Nan is moving into.”
“Sounds like a hell of a party committee.”
“Best in the city.”
Back at my desk, I scroll through my emails and finish up a few of my last afternoon tasks. Laura’s already sent more properties and I scroll through them before responding with the ones I think we’d like to see.
“Charlotte.” Spencer’s voice surprises me and I spin around.
“Yes?”
He holds out a crisp white envelope. “Payroll asked me to deliver this. Apparently Noah wanted you to have it before the week is out.”
“Thank you.”
“Hell of a nice bump,” he says, turning. “Maybe I should be vying for a spot on trips with the boss.”
His comment seems to be made in good fun, but it gives me pause. Curious, I slide my finger under the seal.
Tucked inside is a check, signed by Noah and in the amount of nearly twice my monthly income. The conversation we had before we left about him making sure I was paid, time and a half, for every hour we spent on the trip comes rushing back. Holy shit. He really meant it.
