The wall on the left contained a large bookshelf in the same wood asthe chairs. The bottoms of the shelves were filing cabinets. I didn’t need to check them to know they would only open to my touch. On the shelves were a few decorative items and multiple copies of some of the books I used to recommend to clients.
And it only got more perfect from there. The corner by the door housed a water feature, a tinkling fountain lit in gold hues. It would soothe clients and ensure privacy if someone was in the waiting room.
My diplomas and certifications were hung in simple gold frames that matched the lamps. An oil painting covered the space over the couch. It was stunning. I peered close to take it in.
The Magnolia. In perfect detail, including the sign I’d created. Someone had put a lot of work into this. There was an art store in Illusion Square, could someone there have created this? In the corner was a small signature. D-RAP. I squealed again. He was a New Orleans native whose work I recognized.
“What’s with all the squealing in here?” Brianne took two steps in, turned in her own circle, and joined the squeals. “Simone, this is perfect!”
“Right?! Everything is going to be perfect. Or as perfect as things can get.” I grabbed her close and squeezed her tight.
“Well, this is a new version of you. Honey, I can’t breathe.” I released her, but she laughed and hugged me close again. “A lot’s happened since Friday, huh?”
“Ugh, you have no idea. I wish I had time to give you a recap. But I don’t, so shoo.” I pushed away with a grin, fixing my hair. “My first client will be here any minute, and I want everything to look professional.” Her brow furrowed, a fraction of an inch. I squeezed her hand. “He’ll be here, Brianne. I just know it.”
And there it was in my voice again, that rich timbre. Like I weaved words out of silk.
Sure enough, we walked into the waiting room, and Doug sat at one of the chairs, thumbing through a magazine. Gumbo snoozed on his lap. So much for professional.
“Good morning, Doug.” I pasted a welcoming smile on my face, even though my insides were twisted into a thousand excited, nervous knots. Not like he couldn’t tell. “Would you like to come in?”
Gumbo hopped off his lap, returning to the chair he vacated as soonas he stood. I extended my arm, gesturing for Doug to go in first. I wanted to catch every minute of his first impression.
He didn’t clap. Or squeal. Not that I expected him to. He took a slow circle with the most impassive face ever. I stood by the door, my hands clasped behind my back. My thumbs twiddled a thousand circles while I waited for a response.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take the suspense anymore, Doug crossed his arms and nodded.
“Looks good,” he said. He pressed his lips together and nodded again. “Looks real good, Simone.”
“I’m glad you like it.” The calmness in my voice was remarkable. “Would you like to take a seat?”
Doug studied me a moment longer. Then, with a grin the devil would envy, he sat in one of the chairs. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. I grabbed my notebook and plopped down onto the couch.
We spent several minutes gazing out the window, watching clouds float by. The tip of a vivid fin dipped out of the water, too large to be an everyday fish.
“What would you like to discuss today, Doug?”
“Saw the flower beds out front. They need tending.”
“Yes, they do.” I stifled a chuckle. “We have some overgrowth happening in the back, too. House and I are working on it.”
“I can help,” he replied. “Been mowin’ the lawn for years, may as well do some gardening while I’m at it.”
Huh. So that solved the mystery of the lawn. I guess the house didn’t do everything with magic, which was good to know but also disappointing. I hated dishes.
“I’d sure appreciate it, Doug. Yard work is not one of my strengths.”
“What are your strengths, Simone?”
I took a moment to assess his tone. Doug knew every emotion I was cycling through. Even the ones I was trying to hide. But he was the blankest of slates, and I hadn’t known him long enough to read his tell. If he had one.
I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or challenging me. So I decided to answer honestly.
“Well, owning up to my mistakes is a pretty big strength. Not everyone can do that. I’m a damn good listener.” I crossed my legs andsmiled. “And I know when someone’s avoiding their own crap by focusing on someone else's.”
He drew in a sharp breath that made me hold mine. Then, the most amazing thing happened.
Doug Holloway laughed.
