Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Present Day
Mo didn’t like sitting in Bronwyn’s house when she wasn’t home. Even though she knew he was there, he couldn’t shake the sense that he was an unwanted intruder.
His phone rang and he picked up with a grumbled, “What do you want, Cal?”
“What’s your plan for the day?”
“My plan is to go to Bronwyn’s office and work on her computer.”
He’d done all he could do from his laptop. There was nothing more to be done until he had access to The Haven’s internal network.
Bronwyn had been correct that the computer in her office was one of only a handful that could be used to access their server. And she’d also been correct that it was hardwired.
Where she’d been wrong was in believing that all the information Mo would need could be found on the hard drive of her computer.
Somewhere at The Haven, there was a network server. She probably didn’t realize that it would be possible for people to save data there and not keep it on their hard drives.
He wanted to have things locked down better before he shared details with her. And to do that, he was going to have to find a way to work at The Haven on her computer. Mo stood and looked out the window. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas how we can make that happen?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“Why did you ask me if you didn’t think I could come up with something?” Cal laughed. “Where’s the trust, man?”
“I didn’t expect you to have an immediate answer.”
“As it so happens, I’m heading to her office this afternoon. You can come with.”
“Why?” Mo asked.
“So you can work on her computer.” The implied duh rang through the phone loud and clear.
“I mean, why are you going to her office?”
“The desk. I want her to look at some prototypes. Eliza helped me yesterday. We made a couple of models for her to look at. Different wood, different stains. Eliza thinks she should have a waterfall in her office.”
“Please tell me you told her no.” The last time Cal and his brothers created a waterfall, Mo thought they would need to be in family counseling for an eternity.
“First, we’re more mature than we were then. Second, we know what we’re doing. And third—”
“Third, you don’t like to disappoint Eliza.”
Cal laughed again. “True, but no. Third, Bronwyn doesn’t want a waterfall. She wants the desktop to resemble the reception desk and the conference room table.”
“She has good taste.”
“The question is more about dimensions and cabinets—that kind of thing. We need to stand in her office and put tape down with the exact dimensions of the desk to be sure it’s what she wants. I want to do that before the crew starts working on the floor.”
“When do they start?”
“Hopefully on Friday. We need to sand that stain out. I may work on it tonight. Eliza thinks helping me with work is fun. That won’t last, but I’m going to enjoy it for as long as it does.”
“It might last. Meredith likes helping Dad on cars.”
“No she doesn’t. Meredith likes hanging out with Uncle Doug. She works on cars so she can do that.”
An astute observation.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe Eliza likes to hang out with her dad? Which is why she likes helping you work?” Mo had seen Eliza “help” Cal, and he was pretty sure he was dead-on about this.
Cal was quiet for a few seconds. “If that’s why, I’ll take it.” Cal cleared his throat. “Anyway, we’ll be there this afternoon. And Cassie promised dinner for all of us.”
“Does Bronwyn know about this?”
“Not yet. She’s still at her grandmother’s. Landry texted her, but I doubt she’s seen it. You could always tell her when she gets there.”
“I’m at her house. Not her office. You’ll see her before I do.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her. Want me to call you when I get there?”
“That would be great.”
“Later.”
At 1:30, Mo walked into Bronwyn’s office carrying four to-go cups and a bag of treats. He found everyone in the conference room. Cal took a coffee and riffled through the bag until he found a blueberry scone. “Which ones are Bronwyn’s?”
“The mocha and the lemon doughnut.”
Cal took them to where Bronwyn sat, reverently holding one of several scale model desks.
She glanced up, and he saw the wonder in her eyes before she spoke. “Thank you. These are amazing, Cal.”
Had she been thanking him? Cal? Both of them? It didn’t matter. Until she looked him square in the eye and said something, it didn’t count.
“They were fun to make. Eliza has some strong opinions about your desk.”
“I’m sure she does. Which one is her favorite?”
Cal pointed to the one on the far right of the group. “She likes this one.”
The desk surface was oval-shaped and had four beautifully designed legs. But it wasn’t a particularly practical desk.
“Oof. I hate disappointing her, but that oval top would drive me bonkers.” Bronwyn grimaced. “I want it to be a piece of art but also functional.”
“You don’t have to decide now. Think about it. I have some sketches of a few others that might be better than these models.” He handed her a stack of paper. On the top was a note.
Mo read it upside down, a peculiar but handy little skill he’d picked up somewhere along the way.
Play along. Mo needs more access to the computer.
Bronwyn took the stack and shuffled the top page to the bottom, then continued to look through the sketches.
“You know, while Mo’s here, you should get him to take a look at your computer.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Mo asked.
Cal shrugged. “How should I know?”
“You’re the one who said I should take a look at it.”
Bronwyn finally got with the program. “Cal, I can’t bother Mo with this. I’m sure it’s just a glitch.”
“It’s no trouble.” Mo jumped in. “I can take a look.” He wasted no time sitting down behind Bronwyn’s computer, which was now plugged in and hooked up in the back of the conference room.
He tuned out most of the conversation happening behind him.
Cal and Bronwyn returned to discussing her desk.
Good call, given that they were both such horrible actors.
No one who overheard their stilted conversation would have believed it for long.
After a few minutes of work, he took advantage of a lull in their chatter. “I think this is fixable, but I’ll need some time.”
He twisted in the chair and made eye contact with both of them before turning back to the screen. “I think a day or two should cover it. I can always bill Bronwyn. But, of course, if she needs this device to get any work done, that will be a problem.”
Cal jumped in. “What do you think, Beep?”
“I’m sure I could work on my laptop. If I need that computer, I can let him know.”
And how, exactly, would she do that when she refused to speak to him? Morse code?
An hour later, Bronwyn sat at one end of the conference table. Mo continued to peck away at the computer in the corner. She had no idea what he was doing or how he was doing it. He stared at the screen for so long after Cal left, she was afraid he would burn out his retinas.
A soft tap on the door pulled her attention away from Mo. “Ms. Pierce?” June poked her head in. “Your lunch is here.”
“My . . . what?”
“Your lunch.” June pushed a room service tray inside the room. “I think you’ll like it.” She set several plates on the table, silver covers hiding the contents from view.
“Mr. Quinn, some of this is yours,” June added, turning to Mo. “Would you like to eat now?”
Mo stopped what he was doing, twisted in the seat, and made eye contact with her.
“Thank you, June.” Did her assistant blush?
Yes, she did. Bronwyn couldn’t blame her.
When Mo Quinn gave you his full attention, it made an impression.
“You can leave it down there,” Mo said. “I’ll grab what I want in a few minutes. ”
“Yes, sir.” June gave him a warm smile. “And thank you for taking care of Ms. Pierce. She forgets to eat.”
Wait. What?
“I’ve noticed that.” He’d . . . what? “Between the two of us, we’ll keep her fortified.”
June giggled.
Giggled.
Did Mo even realize the effect he was having on the poor woman?
Probably not.
“Sounds like a plan.” June’s smile was radiant. She was too young for Mo. Well, okay. No, she wasn’t. But . . .
Bronwyn gave herself a mental shake.
She lifted a lid. A huge sandwich, cut in fourths, all diagonals, rested on the plate. “How am I supposed to eat this? I’ve already had brunch with Grandmother and a doughnut today. And apparently, Cassie is providing my supper.”
“Ms. Pierce, most people eat more than twice a day,” June told her. “I’ve seen the sandwiches your grandmother makes for brunch. Unless you ate a dozen, they barely counted as a snack. One doughnut? Also a snack. So you’ve had two snacks today.”
June lifted another lid and revealed a salad. “Besides, this isn’t all yours. Mr. Quinn said you would split it.” Another lid. Another salad. “I had them put the salads on separate plates.” She turned to Mo. “And they cut the sandwich for you like you asked.”
“I can see why Bronwyn loves you, June.”
Bronwyn sat down. Even when it wasn’t directed at her, Mo’s voice was . . . phew. If he ever started talking to her? She might pass out. Or throw herself at him.
She swallowed and asked, “Since the two of you are managing me, what did you decide we’re having for lunch?”
“The sandwich is a club with avocado. The salad is the house salad.” June glanced at Mo again. “They put the dressing on the side, but they may not have sent enough. Should I—”
Mo held up a hand. “I’m sure it will be fine. You’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”
June pinched her lips together, then turned to Bronwyn. “I’ll, um, leave the cart here. You can pile the dishes on there when you’re done. I’ll have housekeeping come clear it whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
June winked at her and walked to the door. And she . . . did she fan herself as she left?