Page 83 of On One Condition

“I vote for that one.” She chuckles and looks back out the window again. “They need to make up their mind though, because they change their message daily.”

“Which is why I think the mayor is behind this.”

“He really does have a hard-on for you, doesn’t he?” she says as she moves away from the window and takes a seat in the chair in front of my desk.

“The question is why? My guess is that visibility is key when you’re running for reelection.”

“My guess is he needs to lose simply on principle.”

I laugh. I love Hillary and her dry sense of humor. She’s been with S.I.N. going on ten years now and has been an incredible asset.

“While I have you, where are we in ‘project town involvement’?” I roll my eyes to emphasize how thrilled I am about this.

“We’ve passed out flyers to all local businesses, placed an ad in Cedar Falls and Bear Valley newspapers, and notified the City of Commerce. Maybe we’ll get some submissions from local artists and craftsmen so we can feature their work at the resort. Maybe we won’t.”

“It’s a crapshoot. The big question is, what do we do if we only get ugly shit for submissions?”

Hillary laughs. “Then we don’t take it? Or we put it on the back walls and not front and center. We paid a fortune for our interior designer. The last thing I want to do is have to ugly up their esthetic to accommodate this new glitch from Grossman.”

“Agreed.” I take a sip of my water as she rises from the chair. “And thank you.” She stops and looks at me. “I know you have a crap ton on your plate, trying to get this done on time and under budget, and then I added this to it. You’re doing a great job.”

Hillary has the oddest expression on her face as she looks at me.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Do you know I worked for your father for over eight years and while he was a kind man, he was also more than demanding. He paid me well and understood when I needed time for my kids or whatever, but not once did he ever say something like what you just did. Thank you, Ledger.” Her voice is soft, her eyes sincere. “I truly appreciate it.”

And when she walks across the hall to her office, her words echo in my head, and I smile.

About the time I turn back to my laptop and type answers Takashi isn’t going to like, a little pair of legs—whose torso is hidden behind a picket sign—comes walking into my office.

“I think you took a wrong turn,” I say.

“It’s me, though. Tootie.” She sticks her head out from behind the cardboard and offers me her toothless grin.

“Did you think I’d want you walking in here with that sign?”

“It’s my cover,” she says, leaning it against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Your cover?” I ask.

“Yep.” She takes a stroll around my office space, touching almost everything in the process. The walls, the windowsill, the corner of my desk. It’s almost as if she’s assessing it, which is ridiculous. “I needed a way to sneak in here. I figured this was the best way.”

Hillary walks back toward my office with a perplexed expression, perhaps wondering how Tootie got past her, but I just hold up my hand to stop her. I nod to let her know it’s okay.

“Does your mom know you’re here?” I ask as Tootie finishes her survey and helps herself to the seat Hillary vacated minutes ago. She takes a moment, making a show of wiggling her butt in the chair to feel out if it’s comfortable.

The purse of her lips tells me she finds it suitable.

“Yep. I told her I was going to come sweet-talk you into coming over for dinner, but don’t come. Ever. My mom burns toast like it’s an Olympic sport. I wouldn’t subject you to her cooking. Not even my enemy.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime.” She folds her hands in her lap as she tries to scoot her tiny body to the back of the chair. “Besides, people are talking.”

“About?”

“You.”