Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Sage
My phone vibrates, inching its way across my desk. My boss sits across from me, eying it.
“Are you going to answer that?”
I most certainly am not. Not with Liam here as a witness. Daddy flashes on the screen, and I swipe my finger over the colourful button to cancel the call and flip it over so he can’t read the name. “It isn’t urgent. I’ll call them back.”
“Okay. I’m going out of town and I need someone to take over an open house. I have everything lined up and scheduled. You’re the only one with enough availability to take it for me.”
“Sure. I don’t mind. Send me the details.” My phone starts vibrating again.
“Maybe it is urgent.” Liam points to my phone with a nod.
“It isn’t.” My tight smile hurts my cheeks.
“If you say so.”
“When are you leaving?” Keep the conversation off the phone, Sage.
“Sunday. I can’t miss the gala Saturday night.
You know there are tickets there for everyone, right?
You’ve never gone before.” The annual Blue Diamond Gala held by a joint effort of Dorian Campbell and Mayor Julian Pine to thank the major donations given by the city’s high society and an excuse to have a party for it.
Our firm is invited every year as Liam is Dorian’s go-to real estate agent.
“Thanks, but it’s not really my thing.”
“Suit yourself, but Willow has the tickets at the front desk. I’ll forward my client’s information to you.” Before Liam stands up, my phone vibrates a third time. “And answer that.”
I wait until he’s out of my office before swiping the screen to answer the phone. “I have a life, a job. People around me. You can’t possibly expect me to answer immediately. I would have called you back.” Most likely. Maybe. In a few days.
“I do expect you to answer immediately, pet.” Amusement leaks through what I’m certain is a warning.
“What do you want?” Best not to push him while I’m at work.
“We’re going to a gala.”
I freeze. What are the odds he’s talking about the same gala?
I like to keep my low profile here which is one reason why I never attend such functions.
The agency is invited to all sorts of galas, banquets, and events every year.
We’re one of the leading real estate agencies in the city with clients varied throughout the city’s elite.
Rubbing elbows with most of them on a weekly basis falls to Liam now that he is the sole owner of Morrison and Harper Real Estate.
His partner, Devon Harper, died in a car accident two years ago. Devon had been the one to hire me.
“Get your ticket from the firm you work for. And include a plus one.”
“I never go to those. No one here ever expects me to, and they’ll be curious why. It’s no secret I’m happy with my position in this company and that I don’t look to further it with bigger clients. Besides, I don’t own anything to wear to a gala.”
“You’ll have something to wear. Get the tickets, pet.” The line goes dead.
With a sigh, I set my phone down. As far as jobs go, getting him into a gala is a small one. Easy, really. I don’t understand why I’m fighting it.
I have a viewing in half an hour and then as soon as that’s finished, I’m driving Nova to her first counselling appointment. I’m worried it’s too soon, but I don’t want to wait. It isn’t only his death she needs to heal from.
With no intention to come back to the office today, and in need of some fresh air to clear my head, I pack my back. Locking up my office, I head toward the front lobby. Willow is flipping through bridal magazines spread out over her desk, despite being single for the past year.
“Coming back after your viewing?” She sets her elbows on the magazine in front of her, crinkling the pages, and leaning her chin on her hands.
“No. I need to check in on Nova.”
“How’s she holding up?” Sympathy makes her smile crooked.
“She’ll be okay.” I won’t lie and say she’s fine. She’s far from it. “Can I get a ticket for the gala this weekend, please?”
Willow blinks. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. With a plus one.”
“Uh. Yeah. Of course.” Willow shakes her head, snapping herself out of the shock. Spinning her chair, she wheels it to the cabinets behind her and opens the bottom one, pulling out a long ticket with a smaller square one stapled to it. She passes it to me with wide eyes and a smile.
“Thank you.” I look down at the intricate blue and silver border with cursive lettering in the centre. Admit One To The Blue Diamond Gala. The small square ticket has the same design with the words Plus One in the centre.
“Have fun at the gala.” Willow’s reflection is in the door, staring after me, until I push it open to leave.
It’s peak summer and the hot air has a touch more humidity than normal, making the deep breath I take heavy. I don’t want to go to this thing. And I don’t want to have anything to do with Barrett.
Getting in my car, I set my bag on the passenger seat and tuck the tickets away in the glove compartment. The showing is on the opposite side of the city as my sister’s, so it’s a long afternoon of driving back and forth.
I spend most of the showing in another room from the couple as they converse quietly to each other, the woman not realizing that her sharp tone echoes off the empty walls. She isn’t pleased, but I didn’t need her words to know that.
Nova didn’t answer the door when I knocked. After the third time, I use my key and let myself in. She’s sitting on her couch, ready to go with her purse in her lap, and both knees bouncing up and down.
“I don’t need to talk to anyone, Sage.”
Putting myself in front of her, I drop to the floor and set my hands on her bouncing knees. “You need to try, Nova.”
“I miss him.”
I can’t respond to that. I don’t understand what it is she misses, and that’s why she needs to talk to someone else.
“Nova, you’re ready to go and I’m here. Just give it a try.
” I pull her up from the couch as I stand.
She doesn’t give any resistance as I guide her to the door and out to my car.
She’s in this state because of me, but at least she’s alive to live through it. My guilt doesn’t have deep roots.
She looks back at me with pleading eyes as she goes into her appointment. As much as I want to hold her hand, she needs to do this on her own. I’ll be here when she needs me after.
The waiting area is filled with pastel colours and soft furniture. Calm, instrumental music plays through smaller speakers in the upper corners of the room. This is better than the fresh air I tried to steal for myself after my phone call with Barrett.
Speaking of the devil, his nickname for himself brightens my phone from inside my purse. Thankfully, I had the forethought to silence it when we came in here.
“Hello?” I keep my voice hushed even though no one else is here except the receptionist behind the tall desk.
“Did you do it?” His voice croons in a way that makes me think he’s asking about something else. Something explicit.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at six Saturday evening.”
“Or I can meet you there.” Control. I need to keep control where I can, meaning getting in a car with him is a bad idea.
“No, pet. I’ll pick you up.”
“Why are we going?” I’m trying not to grind my teeth together.
“Best if you don’t know.” I expected amusement in his tone, but his seriousness makes me nervous.
I want to argue, but I’m not in a setting where I can. It’s only fair I know what I’m getting into. “Okay.”
“See you Saturday, pet.”
I hang up without giving my own farewell, then begin a search on my phone for a dress, not seeing anything that will put me at the same level as the other attendees, or even as my escort.