“Tell me you don’t have one of those insecure husbands who think every man that comes into contact with his wife is a threat?”
I didn’t like the way he was painting Nico. Not wanting his wife to go out with another man didn’t make him insecure.
“No, I don’t,” I say placing my hands on my hips. “But my husband has a wife who is committed to him and would never do anything that she felt was disrespectful. And going to a gallery with a single man that I just met is disrespectful.”
Ezra watches me for a moment, then he dips his chin and lifts his hands in surrender.
“You’re right,” he says. “Hearing it put that way does make it sound inappropriate. I mean, if you were my wife and some new guy came around trying to take you anywhere, I’d lose my shit.” He winks at me to lighten his joke.
It helps to ease my mind, but I still have that icky feeling. You know the feeling you get when you meet someone or are in aplace that doesn’t feel quite right? Like if you walked into a home that’s haunted. Nothing is jumping out at you, but there is an odd, uneasy feeling.
“Still, thank you for the painting,” I say in hopes he takes the hint and leaves.
He nods. “I do have one more exciting thing to tell you. My sister wants to have dinner with you soon. One of her friends is looking to redo their home. They own a large estate over in Garnerville. My sister has been singing your praises to all her friends, now they want to meet you at dinner.”
Now this, I could get behind. Garnerville is home to some of the most beautiful mansions in the city. I’m talking multi-million-dollar homes. Getting a contract to work in that area would be great. Recommendations spread like wildfire there.
“When’s the dinner?”
His smile grows. I guess he realizes he has my attention. “I’ll have my sister set it up and then I’ll let you know when.”
I nod, feeling confident about the dinner and how I’m going to get that contract.
“Now,” he clasps his hands together. “Let’s look at this flooring.”
I spent about an hour with Ezra finalizing the floors for his new home. Next week, the contractors should start gutting the place. I was excited about seeing all my planning and design come together.
Since I had most of my day free since Ezra came early, I decided to do something special. Lately, I feel like Nico has been bending over backwards for me, and granted he had a lot of apologizing to do, I think he deserves some attention.
After going home to grab Noah, we headed to Nico’s office. We greet the first-floor receptionist and security guard before heading onto the elevator. Noah is giddy in my arms as he ridesup to his father’s floor. Now that my baby has learned to crawl, he hardly ever wants to be carried.
When the elevator dings and the doors open, it’s like a circus. So many people are scurrying around. I have never seen this office so damn busy. I imagine the recent fiasco with the power outage is the cause. Claire, Nico’s bitchy receptionist, spots us. I’m sure if I ever told Nico that she was a rude bitch to me he would fire her ass, but her little dry tone and frowns don’t really get to me.
“This isn’t a good time,” she says as I approach my husband’s door.
I stop and turn to look at her. “Excuse me?”
She pushes her hair behind her ear and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a crisis.”
I want to curse this chick out, but I take into account I’m at my husband’s place of business and she’s trying to do her job.
I ignore her remarks. “Is my husband in his office?”
She looks down at her nails. “No, he isn’t.”
Staring back at her, I wait for her to tell me where he is. I’m assuming in a meeting or something. Finally getting fed up, I ask.
“Is he in the conference room or something?”
She looks up at me with a smirk. “He’s out of the office. I’m guessing you not knowing where he is means he wants to be left alone.”
Rolling my eyes, I hike Noah up on my hip as I dig my phone out of my purse. I thought it was unnecessary when Nico first told me we were sharing our location. I assumed it was because I ran from him three months ago. But now, I’m glad he did. I pull up his little bubble on my family tracking app and see that he’s at a cemetery.
“What the hell?” I mumble.
Placing my phone back in my purse, I turn to leave.
“He wants to be left alone.”
