Smooth.
I swear I used to be better than this. Women don’t get me flustered! I getthemflustered!
Birdie seems to evaluate how genuine I am, and there’s a light in her eyes that brightens her face, part flushed and part pleased. That has to be a good sign.
“Okay,” she agrees, nodding at Nora. “As long as I can get someone to watch the kiddo, I’m in.”
“Great! Derek will call you with all the details,” Nora says, shooting me a discrete wink that I have to appreciate.
“He’ll pick you up,” Enzo corrects, throwing his arm casually over Nora’s shoulders. “That way you don’t have to try and find everyone.”
Birdie glances at me, and if possible, she was even more pleased by this new direction our afternoon has taken.
“Okay, that’s great.” She lifts her wrist and glances at the delicate gold watch there, blinking in surprise. “Oh shoot. I have to get back to work.”
“Okay, well, we’ll see you on Friday!” Nora says, and the two of them leave, letting us have a moment alone before Birdie is out of here.
“Thank you for coming and helping me with some of this stuff,” I say, watching her stack the papers she brought and throw everything into her bag.
She glances up at me, smiling sweetly and making my heart thump louder in my chest. “Are you kidding? I had fun with this. It’s my job, really. But it’s nice to do it on my own without someone hovering.”
I tilt my head, looking at her from a new perspective. “You… don’t like your job?” From what I can tell, the job pays decently, keeps her and Rora in a good position in life, and she doesn’t seem to struggle.
But how would I know? People keep their struggles rather quiet most of the time.
“Ugh,” she groans and throws her bag over her shoulder. “No. I hate my job.”
I blink in surprise, casting my glance around the table and gesturing to what she just did. “But you’re so good at it.”
Birdie shakes her head. “I don’t mind the work part of the job, it’s… well, the people.” A chuckle escapes her. “I just don’t enjoy the environment I work in. The boys’ club aspect drives me crazy, and everyone who works there acts like we’re high-priced fashion lawyers or something instead of people who try to sell things.”
I look over her outfit. She has on a long-sleeved silk lavender top and long, wide-legged black pants with some sort of fancy shoe sticking out. “You do look like you work in fashion.”
She tugs her bag higher up on her shoulder. “Okay, I like to dress nice, yes, but what I’m saying is, it’s rare someone hires us to make an impact on the little guy. It’s always big corporations who can actually afford the work.” She nods at me. “Working for Fowler Hardware gives me purpose because I know the man behind it deserves to have it succeed.”
I nearly preen at her words, but I keep it in check because I’m also incredibly humbled by her words. I had no idea she was so passionate about it, I had just assumed she was trying to be nice.
“Well. I didn’t think that you could make yourself higher in my book, but you somehow managed to do just that.”
Birdie ducks her head, smiling, and steps toward the door. “And on that note, I’m going to head out. I’ll let you know if there’s anything else we should do over the next few days, but I think we’re on a good track.”
“Me too,” I agree, stopping at the door. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Then, before I can think too much of it, my hands reach out and pull her into a hug. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, and relief pulses through me when hers wrap around my waist, pulling me tightly to her body. For a moment, we stand there, my head resting against the side of hers. She’s tall, and I actually really like that she is.
After a moment, we pull away, and she seems to be trying to keep something in, but from what I can tell, it’s something stemming from pleasure. “Okay, I really have to go now.”
I open the door, and for the first time since she came back into my life again, I have a smooth moment. I wink—yes, wink—and nod at her as she steps through the door. “See you Friday, Birdie.”
“See you Friday.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Come on. Say yes to something scary.” - Hattie
ELIZABETH
Derek’s car is nice, way nicer than I gave it credit for. On the outside, it’s just some old, beat-up thing that was three times the age of Rora, but the interior of the car is clean as a whistle, every crevice is clean, the dashboard doesn’t hold a speck of dust, and there was no trash to be seen.
