Page 231 of A Matter of Time

When I hung up, Dylan was scowling at me. “What?”

“Who is this guy?”

“I think we did the logo work for his old law firm. I got the idea that he moved.”

“From where? You didn’t say where he was in the first place.”

“He was at Bigelow and Stein.”

“I don’t remember anyone but Chelsea Connors from Bigelow and Stein.”

“That’s because you only remember the people who write us the check at the end of the job.”

“So what?”

“That’s not good business.”

She just grunted as her frown deepened. “You need to let me meet this guy.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, crazy hormonal lady.”

She growled at me.

“You see, that’s what I’m talking about right there.”

Dylan, Sadie, and I were coming back from our afternoon yogurt break when we turned the corner and there was Sam Kage leaning against the locked glass door of our office.

“Oh for the love of God, no,” Dylan groaned.

I shoved my half-eaten bowl at my best friend. “Take this into the office and please don’t make a scene,” I pleaded with her. “Let show him that I’m a grown-up now.”

“The hell is he doing here?”

“I do not know but I promise you, I will handle it.”

She growled, but remained with Sadie instead of following me down the hall toward him.

“Hey.” I greeted him, walking by the office, leading him away from the door. “What’re you doing here?”

“I talked to my mom and I talked to Michael,” he answered, following behind me. “It was interesting.”

I heard Dylan and Sadie walking into the office behind me, but I didn’t turn and have Dylan say hi to Sam or introduce Sadie. I didn’t want to extend the visit.

“Jory?”

Since I was far enough away, I turned and looked at him. “Sorry. You said the talk was interesting, how so?”

I could have kicked myself for talking to him in the parking lot the day before. There were times when I blurted things out because I craved praise. I really was far too externally motivated for my own good. I liked to be told how great I was. Not all the time, but enough that it was a problem. In this instance, if I had kept my big mouth shut, I would not be in the middle of a follow-up visit from Sam Kage.

“Hey.”

I looked up, realizing that, as usual, my mind had been drifting. “Yeah?”

“You got my mom her job.” He stared at me. “I knew she was the host of Date Night Friday Night on Channel Ten, but I had no idea you were the one who got it for her.”

And I had needed him to know it, which was just plain lame. “She got it for herself,” I assured him. “They wanted a concept from me and Dyl, and we gave them her.”

He nodded. “She loves it, ya know.”