Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Whoa. Oliver’s voice has gone deep and rough, aiming for raw sex appeal and hitting that target dead center. But I’m not interested, not in him or the compliment.
“I’ll be sure to pass along that sentiment,” I reply. He’s completely serious, but keeping it light seems like the best strategic move, and I’m definitely not explaining the history between Jesse and me. It’s none of Oliver’s business, and I’m still figuring it out for myself as I untangle things and what they might mean with the new insight I have now.
He answers my tiny smile with a broad one of his own. “You do that. If I’m not overstepping too much, I’d also suggest that you should consider if someone like that is worthy of you. In the small amount of time I’ve gotten to know you, it doesn’t seem like you suffer fools lightly, but here you are without an answer on whether this man is a mere friend or more.”
He shrugs like he shared something casual, but it’s actually a heavy and astute observation that I probably should put some thought into. Later, not when Oliver’s sitting in front of me, watching my reaction. And with Jesse, since it concerns the both of us.
“Noted.” That’s all I allow, but he seems to think that he’s struck a nerve, given the cocky look of victory in his eyes.
“Good. Should we discuss the case, then?”
He’s directing us back to the conversation I wanted to have in the first place, but rather than feeling like a win, it seems like he’s controlling the situation now. It’s frustrating, but I’m not going to argue when we’re moving back to my target.
“Yes, let’s. How’s the financial audit going?” I ask. “I think we can both agree it’d be great to continue construction at Township.”
One of the things Jesse and I discussed this morning was the shit show happening out at Township, with permits and with Lucy moving on-site. It’d been news to me that Jed was even here, since I still haven’t heard a word from him or his lawyer. That’s starting to worry me more and more. And having his mistress in the model home? There are bad ideas, and then there’s that degree of utter stupidity. Not that that surprises me from Jed. Jesse did tell me that he can keep the guys busy for another week or so, but after that, it’ll be a full stop. Neither of us wants that. Cold Springs doesn’t want that either.
Oliver’s jaw goes tight as he clenches his teeth together. Hmm, seems like I’m the one who’s hit a nerve now. “The audit is going much more quickly than anticipated. For all Mr. Ford’s shortcomings, recordkeeping doesn’t seem to be one of them. His bookkeeper is meticulous.”
“In other words, you found nothing. Jed’s not hiding money, is he?” I surmise. Oliver won’t say that straight-out, but the dip of his chin is answer enough. “That’s good, though. It means they can work through the division of assets and we can proceed with Township.”
“If only it were that easy,” Oliver replies sadly. “I’m afraid cases like this are never quite that open-and-shut. Of course, if they were, I wouldn’t have a job. I’ve got to do what’s best for my client and what she wants, you understand that.”
“I can understand having Chrissy’s best interests in mind, but keeping construction going so that Township can turn a profit seems like that would be to her benefit.” I know that’s not all Chrissy wants, but a chunk of change can soothe a lot of anger. Chrissy can spend her time drying her tears with twenty-dollar bills while she sits at the spa for all I care.
“It would be, in a lot of ways. But there’s a lot to consider,” Oliver says cryptically.
I’m not sure what he’s talking about, and before I can ask for clarification, my phone rings, echoing in my desk drawer. “Excuse me one moment,” I tell him as I’m pulling my phone out. I glance at the screen and see Jesse’s name.
Nope, not answering that with Oliver here. That seems like asking for trouble. I let it go to voice mail, but it starts ringing again immediately.
Oliver glances at the phone, and though he can’t see the screen, his smile is knowing, like he can guess who’s calling. “Go ahead. I know I invaded your morning.”
But he doesn’t move to give me any privacy. Dammit.
“Hello, this is Wren,” I answer in my customer service voice, hoping it’s enough of a clue for Jesse to realize I’m not alone.
“Hey! Crazy question for ya . . . do you know where that Oliver asshole is right now?”
I cut my eyes to Oliver. I don’t have it on speakerphone, but Jesse is screaming so loud that there’s no way Oliver didn’t hear the question.