Chapter 5
Devon
*Housewarming gift for Allie (and Luke)
*Make space in the guest room for Sadie.
*Send Sadie details for local hairdresser, doctors, etc.
- From Devon’s to-do list, August 5th
“Hello, sweetie,” Mom’s voice comes through the speakers in my car. “I have fifteen minutes.”
“I have ten,” I say, clicking my seatbelt into place. In fifteen minutes, I’m meeting with a woman named Nathalie, who runs a local lifestyle blog called Live Your Best Life in Palm Springs. I’ve been trying to get as much press for Friday West as possible, and she’s working on a piece about local women entrepreneurs. It’s not exactly a publication of my design work, but she’s the most popular resource in town for things to do, local gossip, and best businesses to support. The interview is a boon.
Mom’s bright laughter is a refreshing balm in the midst of a stressful week. “Aren’t we quite the pair? Lucky we found any time at all.” I sent my mom a calendar request for this call a week ago. Between her running her architecture firm and me with Friday West, it’s the only way to make sure we connect. “I will go first. Landed the project in the Pearl District. Start on that in September.” Mom’s updates always start with her career, but she rarely shares anything personal, and then I get a headline about each of my little brothers. “Zachary is almost healed from his shoulder surgery. Should be pitching again next season. Noah broke up with his girlfriend.”
“Was that the girl who came home with him over spring break?”
“That was her. Shame. She was lovely, but she deserves better than Noah was capable of right now anyway.” Noah is only twenty years old. Not sure what she’s expecting him to offer.
“Caleb is taking him fishing this week as consolation, even though Noah is the one that called it off.” The only way Mom brings up my dad is in relation to my brothers. I’m unsure if it’s because she knows I don’t care to hear about him, or if she genuinely only interacts with him when it involves Zach or Noah. One time after a few glasses of wine on Thanksgiving, she described their marriage as efficient. It was the deepest thing she’d ever shared with me about their relationship.
“Tell me about my oldest,” she says, turning the subject to me. “How’s business?”
“I am prepping to pitch a couple more big projects,” I offer a diluted version of the truth, leaving out the loss of the Shephard project. The fact is, if I don’t win something major soon, like a restaurant or a massive new build, in about three months I will be in big financial trouble. “Bea and I have more than enough work to keep us busy.”
“How is it having your first employee?” Mom’s genuine interest pours through the speakers. “She still working out okay?”
“Bea is impressive. She’s better at space planning than I am.” Mom scoffs at that, but I move past it. “She has a natural eye for things, but she doesn’t rely solely on that. She’s worked hard to develop her skills. I think you would like her, honestly.”
“If you say so, then I do.” She moves the conversation forward, like she’s ticking things off an imaginary conversation checklist. “And how is Alice? Figure out that business with her building?” Mom insists on calling everyone by their full name.
She’s going to hate the answer. “The guy who bought the building ended up splitting the deed and selling her half back to her—”
“Why on earth would he do that?” she interrupts. “It’s a wonderful piece of property. Of course, I am happy for Alice, but it is not a sound business decision.” I decide not to tell her that Allie just opened a bar with Luke and is moving in with him in a few days, too.
“They are dating,” I offer as an explanation.
“That’s even worse. What happens when they break up and have to share a glass wall with their ex? Asinine,” Mom exclaims, almost word for word my initial reaction when Allie told me their plan. But my best friend knows what she’s doing, and she’s holding her ground about it. That building was her first love, but Luke’s her greatest love. I am happy for them, even if the whole relationship is a bit sappy for my taste. “Getting involved with people at work is never a good idea.” Don’t I know it.
“You know Allie,” I flip on my turn signal as I pull up to the parking lot, “she’s determined to make it work, so it will.”
“She does have admirable drive.” Mom’s tone switches from friendly back to business. “Alright, sweetie. I have to eat before my next meeting.” She ends the phone call in her usual way saying, “Work hard!” the way I imagine some parents would end a call with, “Love you!”
Walking into the showroom, I send a quick text to Allie.
Me: Sorry I missed tacos again last night.
This is the second week in a row I’ve had to cancel. My friendships are a top priority for me, especially Allie’s. The fact that I haven’t been able to make time around my work schedule lately the same way I always did in the past, eats me up inside.
Allie: I love you even when we don’t have tacos together.
Allie: Miss you though.
Me: Miss y—
My arms knock into a soft shoulder at my full walking speed, causing my phone, keys, and planner to go tumbling onto the asphalt parking lot, but it’s the overwhelming floral perfume that signals what a critical mistake walking and texting was.
“Devon, oh my,” Trina Boatswain says, pressing a hand to her chest in exaggerated shock.
Before I can respond, another voice—a deep one with a subtle southern drawl—asks, “You alright, Dev?” He’s never called me Dev before.
“I’m fine,” I answer, realizing too late that he’ll read the shortness in my tone as frustration with him, rather than Trina. Which is fine. I shouldn’t care what he thinks.
Gathering myself, I stand up straight and get a good look at the scene in front of me. She’s tugging her black floral kimono into place with enough drama to imply I’d tried to rip it clean off. Rhett’s arms are full of plans, likely for the Shephard project, and he and Trina both have drinks from the coffee shop around the corner.
Rhett’s tight navy t-shirt pulls across his back as he leans forward and starts gathering my things from the ground. When I reach to help, his steady hand comes to mine, stilling me. His gray eyes pierce me straight through. “I’ve got it.”
Fine.Smoothing my hair and pulling my shoulders back, I look to Trina with a forced half smile. “Sorry.”
She’s checking what looks like all six of her necklaces to make sure none of them was jostled out of place. “It’s unlike you to be so careless, dear,” she responds, voice sweet with fake concern.
“Surprised you didn’t see her coming either, Trina,” Rhett says, hiding his dig behind a smile as he comes to standing, taking up a place close to me. “Sun must have been in your eyes.”
“It is awfully bright today.” My former boss and current nemesis grins up at him, adjusting her designer sunglasses before turning to me. “Guess we were just meant to see each other today.” She emphasizes the point, referencing something I’m not clued in on and making me uneasy. “It’s been too long. Can’t remember the last time I saw you at a showroom. Are you keeping busy enough? You know I worry about you trying to make it on your own.”
She’s baiting me. All three of us know she’s been winning clients over me for months, but not all of them. The last thing I’m going to do is let her win this interaction. “Don’t spend your time worrying about me, Trina. I’m better than ever.” I may be under some heavy financial pressure, but I truly am happier working for myself than I ever was working for her.
“It’s a shame we haven’t seen your work published yet.” She intentionally hits a sore spot, but I’m sure she doesn’t know I’m on my way right now to a meeting that could hopefully open doors to design magazines and larger publications. “It’s early stages, but Noon is already coming after me to feature a project we just started, a ranch on the outside of town for a family called the Shephards. I’m sure you’ll see it on the cover next year.”
Noonhas always been my favorite design magazine. My mom used to bring them home from work for me when I was a child, it’s how I discovered Trina in the first place. Soon, my work will be on the cover instead of hers. I haven’t figured out how I’ll pull that off just yet, but I know I will.
“I have to get going,” I respond, turning to Rhett and holding out my hands for him to return my things to me.
He doesn’t give them back. “I’ll walk you in.” He says a brief goodbye to Trina before joining me the rest of the way through the parking lot.
I don’t need to see or hear Trina’s response to know she’s unhappy.
“So, you two used to—” he starts as we walk toward the showroom.
“We’re not talking about this,” I answer.
“She’s really—” he tries again.
“I don’t care what she really is, Rhett.” My words come out even harsher than I intended. “Trina and I have nothing to do with each other.”
His brows rise at my obvious lie, and then he moves on to another topic I don’t want to discuss. “Well, it’s still a delicious surprise to run into you.”
I tilt my head, rolling my eyes up at him. “You run into me constantly.”
“And I eat it up, every time.”
Nathalie swings open the door to the office we’re meeting in and immediately dives into conversation.
“I’ll let you go,” Rhett says, as I follow her toward a conference table.
I don’t realize he hasn’t handed me back my things until I find them at the front desk sometime later. I don’t discover he’s made an addition to my schedule until I finally get a chance to clean the asphalt scuffs off it.
-Dinner with Rhett. You know you want to.
Not happening.
-Dinner with Rhett. You know you want to.