Chapter 23
CALLUM
Cleo sat across from me with her reading glasses on, which she only wore when she was being serious. We were sitting at her kitchen table instead of the store where there would be too many distractions. My office was even worse for distractions.
We’d been going over budgets and projected profits for the wedding business. Overseeing the store would have to wait. We were running numbers, determining whether we had room for a new line of dresses before the end of the year.
“Okay,” she said finally, pulling one of the invoices toward her. “It looks like we have the time and the budget for a new line. And the store will almost certainly start sending customers and clients our way.”
I nodded and smiled. “Victoria thinks seeing options in person will give us more work than we can handle.”
“Victoria, huh?”
I looked up and found her grinning at me. “What?” I asked.
“I’ve seen that smile before,” Cleo said.
“What smile?”
“The one you get whenever you say her name. Which happens to be a lot.” She put her glasses back on and picked up her pen like she was going to go back to work, but she was still looking at me over the rims. “You get this look, like you’re somewhere else for about two seconds.”
I frowned at her. It was probably true, but I wasn’t ready to discuss it with anyone. Victoria had awoken a lot of feelings in me, and I was still trying to process them all. “Can we focus? We have a lot to get through.”
It was quiet while we worked for all of two minutes.
“She fit right in with everyone,” Cleo said. “Have you ever brought a woman home before?”
“I’ve introduced past girlfriends,” I said.
She snorted. “In high school. I mean since you were old enough to shave.”
“Most of the women I went out with weren’t the type you bring home,” I said. “But, yeah, Victoria liked everyone. She had a really good time.”
“She told me a bit about her own situation,” my sister said. “With her family. And being cut off completely. Fucking vicious.”
I nodded but I wasn’t going to gossip about Victoria behind her back. “Yep.”
“Mimi texted me after we left,” Cleo continued. “She said she really liked Victoria. Said she was a breath of fresh air and she hoped we’d see more of her.”
“That’s nice.”
“Callum.”
I closed the laptop. There was clearly no getting around this. I looked at my sister across the table. She had her arms folded, pen still in hand, patient as a saint.
“I like her,” I said. “A lot. More than I’ve liked anyone.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Ever.”
“There it is,” she said softly.
“It’s early,” I said. “I know it’s early. I’m not trying to get ahead of myself.”
“But?”
I tapped my fingers on the table. “I find myself thinking about a future with someone for the first time in my life. And it’s not freaking me out. I don’t want to run in the opposite direction.” I glanced up at Cleo. “That has to mean something, right?”
“It means everything,” she said.
“Don’t make it a big thing.”
“I think she’s wonderful. And I think you deserve wonderful.” She flipped to a new page in her notes. “Now let’s get back to the budget before I start crying and ruin my mascara. I’ve been looking forward to having a sister. Looks like that’s actually a possibility.”
“See? This is why I didn’t want to talk about it,” I said. “I just want to see how things go with her without everyone being weird about it.”
She grinned. “Let me have fun.”
I laughed and opened the laptop again. I pulled up the spreadsheets, but my phone buzzed on the table between us. I glanced at the screen. It was someone at the store.
I picked it up. “What’s up?”
“Mr. Blackwell, I need you down here as soon as you can make it.”
I was already pushing back from the table. “What happened?”
“There’s been a material issue,” she said. “They’re calling it a potential safety hazard.”
I was already on my feet. “I’m on my way.”
Cleo was looking at me.
“The store,” I said. “I have to go.”
“What happened?”
I was already reaching for my keys on the counter behind me. “I don’t know the full picture yet. I need to get eyes on it.”
She pulled her glasses off and set them on the table. “Callum, we’re not done here.”
“I know.” I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. “I know, Cleo. I’m sorry. As soon as I figure out what we’re dealing with, I’ll call you. We can finish tonight if we have to. Come to my place, order dinner, we’ll go through every line.”
She sighed. “Okay,” she said finally. “Go. But call me.”
I was out the door before she finished the sentence.
I kept replaying the look on Cleo’s face when I pushed back from the table. Resignation. I had promised her overseeing the store opening wouldn’t get in the way of my day job with the wedding business. Leaving her felt like I was dropping the ball.
I merged onto the freeway and pushed the speed up a little more than I should have.
I hadn’t been to the store in a couple of days. That was on me. I should have already known about the problem. I’d been present for every detail. I hadn’t missed a single scheduled check-in. I was doing my job.
For the most part.
I thought about the nights I’d spent with Victoria when I should have been reviewing the final construction signoffs.
Was that the problem? Had I been somewhere else when I should have been paying attention?
I told myself no. I hadn’t missed anything significant. I ran through the checklist in my head. Flooring, complete and signed off. Electrical, inspected and approved. Plumbing rough-in, done before the walls went up.
So what was it?
I didn’t know. And not knowing was the worst part because I was supposed to know everything.
I was the one people called. I was the one who had the answer or found it fast enough that it didn’t matter.
Callum Blackwell did not receive panicked phone calls from staff members.
He was the one who prevented those calls from ever needing to happen.
And yet, here I was, racing to the store to address an emergency.
I took the exit ramp and felt my jaw tighten.
I wasn’t going to spiral. Whatever was waiting for me at the store, I would deal with it.
One step at a time. That was the only way through anything.
You didn’t solve a problem by freaking out. You assessed, then acted.
I could do that. I’d been doing that my entire adult life.
My obsession with Victoria wasn’t making me sloppy. Sure, I had been a little distracted, but she made me feel alive. I could date a girl and still do my job. Other people managed it every day. I was going to manage it too.
I pulled into the first available spot on the street. Lena, one of the project supervisors, met me at the front door. I could see the stress on her face.
“Show me,” I said.
She led me through the showroom and into the back corridor that connected the main floor to the alterations staging area.
The back wall. Adrian had spent two weeks agonizing over the finish.
A particular wood, in a specific shade with a grain pattern he’d chosen.
Not too dark, not too light. Every detail in the store was chosen for a reason.
But the panels were wrong. It wasn’t even the correct type of wood. It looked like someone had pulled material from a completely different order and put it on my wall.
“Who signed off on the delivery?” I asked, even though I already knew.
She pulled out the invoice and handed it to me. My signature. Right there at the bottom of the delivery confirmation. I’d been distracted and hadn’t checked the materials when they were dropped off.
“How bad?” I asked.
“Structurally, it’s fine. It’s purely aesthetic, according to the contractor. If we pull it now, the supplier can send us the correct material and we can install it before the opening. It’ll cost us some time, but it’s more of an expensive mistake.”
“Do it,” I said. “Have it pulled today. Call the company and tell them to get it right this time.”
“Yes, sir.”
This was my fault. Mistakes were made all the time. It was up to me to catch those mistakes, but I had been distracted. I thanked Lena on the way out and told her to keep me updated on the reorder timeline. She nodded and was already on her phone before I reached the door.
I drove home and changed. Victoria was coming over soon. It was becoming our regular thing. We spent our evenings hanging out and eating. In my old life, I would spend the evenings at the table going over work—alone.
I ordered dinner. Victoria arrived at almost the same time as the food.
She took one look at me. “What happened?” she asked.
“Let’s eat. I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
She didn’t push. Simply nodded and helped set out the Mexican food I had ordered. She understood when to leave things alone. After three tacos and an unhealthy amount of guacamole, I told her what had me stressed out.
She listened without interrupting. “But it’s fixable,” she said when I was done, trying to reassure me.
I wiped my mouth. “The problem is that I was the one who signed off on it. I should have been paying attention. I’m supposed to confirm the order is right before I accept delivery.”
“Because you were distracted.”
“Yes,” I said.
She nodded slowly. “And now you’re trying to figure out if I’m the reason.”
“No. You’re not the reason. I’ve just been burning the candle at both ends.” I smiled at her. “If anything, you help me focus.”
We ended up on the couch with her curled up against me just like we’d been doing the last few nights. The TV was on. I didn’t want to do anything other than sit with her. I didn’t want to go to work or even leave the couch.
I know I’m distracted. I’m a better human. A happier man. But I’m failing in my professional life. I don’t know if Victoria is the poison or the cure. I’m living two lives and they are not meshing. Something has to give.
It’s a puzzle I won’t solve tonight. I’m going to enjoy the night and the woman cuddled up next to me. The rest will wait until tomorrow.