And damn you, Tessa, for not asking for my full attention. This must have been what she was going on about earlier when I was struggling to rewrite a clause on the merger document. I really should start listening better. All I heard was the word “dinner,” which I assumed meant tomorrow night, and I said yes.
Sapphire drops her cell phone into her bag and looks at me expectantly, as if she’s waiting for me to make a move.
“Give me a minute.” I grab my phone, aggravation bouncing off me so hard that Sapphire will no doubt feel it.
“Of course.” Her reply unflappable, she moves slowly around my office toward the bookshelves. I jab at the letters on my screen’s keyboard, punching each one into the text chat with my brothers hard enough to break the screen.
Me
I know Nathan is busy tonight buying nursery furniture, but you two fuckers aren’t busy. I’ve been summoned by a real-life fucking unicorn to go to dinner with her. She’s from Safire & Spark Do you know anything about this?
My message says read by all of them, but none of them reply. NoMax is typing, orCole is recording… Nothing. Zilch.
Assholes.
I wait. Ten seconds… twenty seconds… thirty. My nerves are on edge as Sapphire absentmindedly touches objects on the shelves, examining my bonsai trees, brushing her fingers over whatever catches her attention.
Forty seconds… Now she’s pulling a book off the shelf, then fails to put it back in the correct place. A jolt of irritation rushes through me, and I fire another text off to our group chat.
Me
I’m living in hell right now.
If she picks up another one of my things, I might lose it. My jaw already hurts from clenching it so tight, and it’s making my headache worse.
Still no reply from my brothers.
Me
You three jerks owe me one.
Max
Thanks, man!
Cole
Absolutely.
Nathan
*laughing emoji*
“Fucking children,” I mutter under my breath with a heavy huff, then slam my cell phone down on the desk.
“Everything okay?” Sapphire asks, circling my office like it’s hers to explore.
“Yes.” I’m gruff in my reply. “I just need a minute.”
Sapphire claps her hands together to encourage me to move. “C’mon then, chop chop. Let’s go, or we’ll be late for our reservation at the new Mexican restaurant, Casa del Sol, on Fillmore Street. And I hate being late.”
Her comment about being prompt catches me off guard. If anything, she seems like she operates on her own schedule, doesn’t care who she’s making wait, and ignores rules. But it looks like I might have been wrong in my assumptions about her punctuality after all.
I stare at her longer than is comfortable, my mind at war with itself. On one side, the devil within whispers in my ear to tell her I have to take a rain check, while the other is determined to see this through. Canceling plans isn’t my style, although I didn’t make this one; if I had, I would have been prepared. I prefer order and organization and hate last-minute changes. My life is perfectly planned. Just the way I like it.
“Let’s do this.” Sapphire claps her hands together again excitedly, the jingle jangle of her dozen or so bangles breaking me out of my sitting-on-the-fence thoughts.
Shit. I have to go. I don’t have a choice.
