He’d heard all about the guys in Australia, and Cassie, but she’d never mentioned James.
“James makes these sandal things. They’re pretty neat. We started working together recently, and we have a pretty set schedule. He doesn’t veer from it very often.”
“Does he pay on time?”
“So far. He’s got it automated with his bank.”
“So he’s an A-list client.”
She laughed. “I guess so. That’s one way to think of it.”
“If you had to assign a designation to Cassie and the other guys, what would you give them?”
“The guys get a solid C. But we’re still getting used to understanding how we can work together.”
“Cassie?” he asked.
Rachel picked at the bedspread. “I don’t even think she’d get a letter.”
She followed this with a light chuckle, but it was pretty clear she meant it.
Her email dinged again.
“So far you’re one for three; let’s see who that is,” Travis said, squeezing her hand.
Rachel sucked in a breath. “Shit.”
He glanced at the screen, and it was an email from Cassie dissolving the contract with Rachel’s company.
Yes, that really made Travis’s gut turn over. Rachel slumped a little.
“No matter what, you’re going to be okay.”
She nodded, but didn’t really seem to believe it.
Another email chime, and this time he had to stand because the unknown was totally making his stomach cramp.
“The other guys want to have a meeting tomorrow to ‘discuss the nature of our future projects.’” She read aloud from their email.
“Rach.” Travis shoved his hands in his pockets. “You did the right thing here.”
“That leaves me just the one.” Her expression seemed to freeze.
“You don’t know that.” Travis started to step toward her?—
“Rachel?” his mother called from down the hall.
Rachel looked at Travis, then at the open door. It wasn’t like they were doing anything inappropriate.
Rachel tilted her head toward the bathroom, her expression earnest.
Today was probably not the day to fight that battle. Travis started toward the bathroom to hang out until his mother skedaddled.
“Trav.” His name on Rachel’s lips stopped him cold.
He turned. His mother stood in the doorway. And the Puffle Yum Momster—as Rachel called her—looked like she was ready to eat her young.
That would be him.
