Chapter 20
DEXTER
She didn’t say much after the test, but I didn’t need her to. I saw it in her face, that pang of disappointment. She’d really believed it had worked. And the truth is, I had too.
There wasn’t much I could do. She pulled it together like she always does. Cracked a smile. Even laughed a little.
I wasn’t joking. Not for a second.
She probably thinks I tossed those lines out casually. And sure, I was teasing, a little. Enough to put the color back in her face.
But the trying harder part, that part is dead serious.
While she showers and dresses, I cook. She wants everything on her toast, so that’s what she gets.
Avocado smashed with lemon, salt, and pepper, cherry tomatoes chopped and scattered on top, thin cucumber slices for crunch, and a handful of arugula.
Coffee reheated, apple juice poured, I leave the plate waiting for her on the counter.
She slides onto the barstool, fresh-faced, hair still damp at the ends. “This looks amazing. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She takes a bite, and her eyes close briefly. Good sign.
We eat while I catch her up on what’s been going on at work. Holly sips her coffee, samples her juice, sets the glass down, and glances over at me.
“So,” she says, casual as anything, “when do you want to try again?”
My eyes flick up. I hold her gaze and swallow a bite of my toast. “Soon.”
She points her half-eaten toast my way. “How about… tonight?”
I pause. Not because I need convincing, I just didn’t see it coming. I’d figured she’d need space, maybe a couple days. But here she is, already bouncing back, already focused on the task at hand.
Shit. I have a night planned with the guys.
“Tonight works for me,” I say.
“Great. Come over whenever.” A hint of a lopsided smile tugs at her lips, and she returns to her toast like we just agreed on takeout, not sex.
“You can make me breakfast again after,” she says.
“Deal.”
We eat together, talking about nothing, and everything. Her posture is relaxed again. The color is back in her face. She laughs when I tease her, and rolls her eyes when I don’t let her win an argument.
She’s okay.
When I get into the office, baby-making goes to the back of my mind.
I call Julian Crane, my guy for showrooms, to go over a potential expansion.
He’s already sent me a few promising locations, and now we’re narrowing it down.
Nothing is final yet, but I’m laying the groundwork.
After that, I switch gears, all focus on locking down Swan Estates. We’ve come too far to let it slip now.
First thing I do is try Reed. He’s out, which is rare at this hour. His sister probably hijacked him for a late lunch. So I call Keith into my office.
“Hey, Keith. I hope you have some good news for me.”
“I do indeed,” he says, dropping into the chair across from my desk. “The new architecture software is flyin’. It’s makin’ any changes ten times easier to share with the client.”
“Good. Because Macro’s still breathing down our necks. They’re officially in the running. Presenting the same day we are.”
“I know. I’m ragin’ over it. They’re cutely undercuttin’ us.”
“My gut says the same. We’ve always been chosen over them, and it’s not by accident. The pitch is in a couple weeks, and I’m not giving them room to slide in. Any word on who leaked?”
“Not a clue.”
“Make sure everybody keeps their fucking mouths shut.”
“Will do. We’re really gonna be gaspin’ for those pints tonight.”
I shake my head. “Can’t.”
“What? Why?”
“Got plans with Holly.”
“Oh, yeah. How’s the baby-makin’ going? Weren’t ye supposed to find out this week whether she’s expectin’ or not?”
“She took the test today. She’s not.”
“Ah, shite. Sorry. Sure next time.”
That’s one thing I appreciate about Keith Murphy, and why I trusted him with this in the first place. He doesn’t overreact, doesn’t dig, doesn’t ask loaded questions. Just a straight reaction and on to the next.
“All right. Besides Swan, how are we looking on the other contracts?”
Our talk turns to the rest of the roster: new clients, pending builds, the expansion, contracts waiting to close.
Every project we finish just makes the next one easier to land.
I built this thing from nothing. And yeah, I enjoy it.
There’s nothing more satisfying than watching something you created take off.
By the time 5 p.m. rolls around, I’m in a good place.
The bones of the Swan presentation are solid. The team’s hammering out mock-ups, budget models, and renderings. We’re ahead of schedule. And when it comes time to present, we’ll crush it.
Macro can fight dirty all they want, they’re not getting this one. Not on my watch.