I scroll back to Elle’s message.
"Congratulations!"
I stare at it for a long time, wondering if this broken thing between us can ever be shaped into something good and long-lasting?
The shrill ring of the phone on the nightstand jolts me out of my thoughts.
I reach for the receiver. “Hello?”
“Mr. Callahan?” a polite voice asks.
“Speaking.”
“This is Lydia from the WCA event staff. Sorry to bother you in your room, but someone stopped by the convention desk looking for you.”
My stomach tightens. “Everything okay?”
“Oh yes,” she says with a small laugh. “Better than okay, actually. A gentleman named Richard Brewer—he runs a design firm out of New York—asked if we could pass along his interest in your piece. The walnut rocker.”
I sit up straighter. “He wants to buy it?”
“He does. He saw it yesterday and again last night before the judging. After your win, he asked if it was available. Said he’s prepared to make a very generous offer—and he’d like to discuss the possibility of commissioning more work from you in the future.”
I let out a low whistle. “Wow. Okay. Uh… does he have a card or number?”
“Yes. I left it for you in an envelope at the front desk. Congratulations again, Mr. Callahan. Your work made quite an impression.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up slowly, the weight of the last few days finally catching up to me, and now this.
After breakfast in the hotel restaurant, I stop by the front desk and pick up the envelope. The business card inside is clean, embossed, and expensive-looking.
Richard Brewer, Brewer & Co. – Manhattan, NY.
As excited as I am about the prospect of being commissioned by a firm like his, my mind keeps drifting back to Elle’s message.
“Congratulations!”
Between the offer and her unexpected text, it’s shaping up to be one heck of a morning.
When the phone rings again, I pick it up without checking the caller ID.
“Hello,” I say.
“You sound awfully chipper.”
Meghan. So much for having a good day.
“What do you want, Meg?”
“If you’re in Chicago, and my daughter’s not with your parents, who has her?”
“Since when do you care where Hannah is at any particular time of day?”
“Is she in daycare? Did you leave her with a sitter? And if so, did you vet that person? Check their references?”
“That’s really rich, coming from you,” I snap. “And how do you even know she’s not with my parents?”
