Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
ANDIE
“ A ndie Marriott, how may I help you?” I say as I click the green icon on my phone. Graham Development has landlines for all their offices. Still, since I work in public relations, I’m given access to a company cell phone, same as our directors and those in upper-level management.
“Hey, Andie, Peter Rockwell here. I have Elise Maxwell with me. Do you mind if I put you on speaker?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you.”
Peter switches the call to speaker phone, and Elise and I exchange hellos.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
“Elise and I have been combing through the preliminary package you had delivered. What’s your best guess as to when we might expect the full report?”
“It depends on how quickly we can get the rest of the title reports. The first of the three reports should be in the package I sent over this morning.”
“Yes, we have it here. It seems to be pretty standard. Just some easements to clear. ”
“I’ve asked the title company to see if there’s any more information on who currently has interests in the two old easements. Looking at the inspection notes, it doesn’t appear either of those easements are still being used.”
“Those are our thoughts as well,” Elise interjects. “When do you expect to receive reports on the other two parcels?”
“Actually, I received the preliminary report in the mid-morning drop, but the abstract wasn’t included, nor were copies of the recorded documents.”
“Would you fax us a copy of what you received?” Peter asks.
“Happy to,” I assure him. “I asked title to include you as a recipient, so the hard copy might already be en route to your office.”
“Perfect. Thank you,” Peter says. “Have you requested a formal inspection yet?”
“I did.”
“I think I can save us both some time, as we keep a team of in-house inspectors on our staff.”
I hesitate before replying, “Getting a second opinion certainly couldn’t hurt. Especially when so much capital is involved.”
“Actually, in the interest of time, we feel it might expedite things to utilize our own inspectors.”
It’s not considered best practice, and though it’s not illegal, it certainly borders on the unethical. “We’ve already contracted a third-party inspection–”
Peter cuts me off and quickly assures me, “We’re happy to compensate you for any cancellation fees.”
“I’m not worried about cancellation charges. We have a long-standing relationship and a solid rapport with the company.”
“Great, so there won’t be a problem letting them know their services aren’t required this time around.”
“If Graham Development is financing a portion of the project, there are protocols in place that I’m not authorized to override.”
Peter hmms, then says, “Okay, speak with whomever you need to. I’m sure it won’t be an issue, given the magnitude of the venture. If needed, I’m happy to speak to them myself.”
Not wanting to argue, I steer the conversation away from the inspection. “I’ll pass your request along. In the meantime, do you have any questions about the preliminary marketing analysis I included in the report?”
“No, I think we’re good on our end,” Elise replies. “The margins are close enough that I’m sure we can persuade the government agencies to approve the project. Obviously, we’d like to shore things up as quickly as possible.”
“Understood,” I say. “Bear in mind, those are preliminary stats you’re looking at. I’m still waiting on the surveys from the remaining neighboring property owners. The pedestrian and golf cart path bridging the river requires both state and county approval. I’ve done some digging, and currently, there’s an ordinance prohibiting the construction of additional bridges in the county but other counties have approved them, so maybe it won’t be an issue.”
“Somebody’s done their homework,” Elise interjects. “Good work, Andie. Our company has connections with our city and county officials, so you don’t need to trouble yourself further about the bridge overpass.”
“It’s no trouble,” I say reassuringly. “It’s part of my job, and Graham Development is pretty strict about dotting “i”s and crossing “t”s, so our vice president of business development will expect me to be thorough in my research.”
“It appears they’ve got you involved in more than the marketing and PR aspect of things. I hope they are compensating you for going above and beyond your area of expertise.”
On the surface, Elise’s words sound like a compliment, yet I don’t miss the subtle jab in the subtext telling me to back off and stick to the parameters of my job description. Maybe I’m hyper-sensitive, but I can’t shake the feeling that Landmark isn’t playing by the rules–or maybe they do, but they expect others to bend them.
“Andie,” Peter says smoothly, “we appreciate how thorough your notes are and how much you’ve been able to put together in such a short amount of time. If you could have someone fax over the title report you received this morning, that would be great. Also, let me know when you receive the complete abstract and copies of the recorded documents.”
“Of course. No problem.”
We say our goodbyes and I sit stewing over the conversation. The call wasn’t necessary, so why bother when a simple text or email would have sufficed?
I move to the opposite side of my desk and spread the plotted easements and preliminary title report across my desk. True, what I’m about to do doesn’t fall within my job description, but when I present my marketing recommendation to the acquisitions and financing teams, I want to feel confident I’ve done my homework.
When I compare the title report to the one I received on the adjacent parcel of land, I know I’m not imagining the stitch of discomfort nagging at my gut. Something’s off. In fact, there might be more than one red flag.
I reach for my phone and buzz Sidni.
“Hey, boss babe.”
I chuckle. “So, now I’m a boss babe?”
“You’ve always been a boss babe. It’s about time you own it.”
“Noted. I need you to make a couple of transparencies for me.”
“Sure thing. What size do you need?”
“That depends. Can you make a transparency off a Mylar?”
Sidni hesitates, and I hear the clickety-click of her fingers against her keyboard. “Checking,” she says as she continues her clicking. There’s a brief pause and then she asks, “Color or standard?”
“I think a standard transparency will do for now. If you can’t make them from the Mylar, you can use the parcel maps the title company sent. They aren’t as accurate, but they will give me somewhere to start.”
“Sounds good.”
The line disconnects and I meet Sidni at the door with an extra copy of the Mylars and parcel maps.
Returning to my desk, I grab a protractor, compass, scaled ruler, and a blue colored pencil, and return to the opposite side of my desk. Someday, maybe I’ll be afforded an office large enough for a work table.
I’m lost in the middle of plotting the legal description of the land when a familiar voice hums in my ear.
“Mmm. Whatcha doin’, fake girlfriend?”
Startled, I send my pencil flying into the air. Liam flicks out his hand and easily palms the pencil on its way down.
“Stop doing that!” I blurt, pressing my hand to my chest. “It’s not funny!”
Liam grins, “You’re right. It’s not funny.” He waggles his eyebrows. “It’s hilarious.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove against him and stand. “What do you want?”
Liam feigns hurt. “Can’t a guy drop by and say hi to his fake girlfriend?”
“Shh!” I press my index finger against my lips. “Someone might hear you, and then it’s only a matter of time before word reaches your parents.”
Liam kisses my finger, and I yank it away from him. “Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “From now on I’ll just refer to you as my girlfriend.” His eyes scan the papers spread along my desk. “What the–Are you plotting the legal description of this parcel?”
I shrug. “I was looking at the parcel map and it’s not lining up with the proposed track map for this piece of land. I’m not sure why.”
“Have you ordered an inspection?”
“Of course, I have. But the Landmark people want to use their in-house inspectors instead of our third-party team. They want everything expedited, which just feels fishy to me.”
Liam nods. “It’s not our policy to use in-house inspectors.”
“I know! Peter Rockwell told me to cancel my order for an inspection.”
Liam sits beside me and compares the legal description to what I’ve plotted on the map. “Wow. I’m impressed you know how to do this.”
“I mean, I’m no expert, but I wanted to do a comparison.”
Liam uses his index finger to track my work. “Are these easements?” he asks, pointing to a cluster of dotted lines.
“Yeah. That’s another thing. Peter said the title company would clear the easements, but he made it sound like they would overwrite them, rather than get them removed from the public record.”
My gaze travels down Liam’s admittedly handsome profile. He truly is beautiful, like a golden Greek or Roman god, but in a way I can only describe as “tough.” Is it possible to be both pretty and tough?
The image of Liam the night before Max and Maizee’s wedding comes to mind when he stormed into the venue, headed straight for the dance floor, and proceeded to slam his fist into Larson’s face. He thought he was defending Nell–that Larson was playing her–but nothing could have been further from the truth. The focused rage on Liam’s face! It’s no wonder his friends call him the avenging angel . He is glorious and fierce, yet also gentle and sweet. I suppose that’s why Nell refers to him as a Golden Retriever.
“Um, earth to Andie?” Liam waves his hand in front of my face.
“Sorry,” I shake my head and chuckle. “I was…never mind. What were you saying?”
Liam’s brows raise and the twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me he’s dying to tease me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he asks, “Are we for sure financing this project?”
“That’s my understanding,” I say, focusing my attention back on the map.
Liam pulls out his phone and sends a text to someone. “Who’s that?” I ask, feeling awkward about my nosiness.
“Just texting Layton.”
“Am I keeping you from something?” I ask.
Liam chuckles. “I’m the one who came to see you, remember?” He cocks his head to one side and studies me. “What’s with you today? I haven’t seen you this preoccupied in a long time.” He taps his index finger on my forehead. “What’s going on in there, Darlin’?”
Refusing to share where my mind had wandered, I mentally pivot back to the Landmark deal. “It’s nothing. At least, I hope it’s nothing. I just need to scratch an itch, and I’ll be fine.”
Liam grins as he slides his finger down the side of my face and tugs on a stray curl. “Need me to scratch that itch for you? I’m fairly certain that qualifies as part of my job description as your boyfriend.”
Relentless flirt.
There’s a quick rap at the door, followed by a smooth baritone voice that always sounds a little bit (a lot) naughty. “Please tell me you did not bring me in here to witness you fawning all over one of our employees,” Layton says with a playful glimmer in his eyes. I’m not sure Layton is capable of grinning without looking as though he’s just been caught in the storage room with his latest conquest, or like he’s planning his next secret rendezvous. “Honestly, Andie, I don’t know what you see in this guy when this–” he gestures to himself, “--is right down the hall and ready to respond at your beck and call. ”
A low growl forms in Liam’s throat as he releases the curl he’s been tugging on and he shoots Layton a warning glower.
Even a Golden Retriever will snarl when another dog gets too close to his food bowl. Not that I’m comparing myself to food, but you get my meaning.
I roll my eyes and brush off Layton’s comment, knowing he’s only trying to get a rise out of his brother. “What’s up?” I ask.
Layton tips his chin toward Liam. “Liam told me to pop in if I had a minute. I’m heading out for a quick bite to eat. Wanna join me?”
“Uh,” I swivel my gaze between Liam and Layton, unclear if he’s inviting me or Liam.
“Relax,” he drones, “I meant both of you.”
“It’s kind of early for dinner, isn’t it?” Liam asks.
“I missed lunch,” he shrugs. “And it looks like I’ll be working late tonight, so I might as well eat while I can spare a moment.”
Liam fixes a questioning gaze on Layton. “You’ve been burning the midnight oil a lot lately. What’s going on?”
Layton gestures for us to follow him. “Come on, we can talk while we eat. I only have an hour before I need to be back for a conference call.”
With Layton short on time, we Uber to a nearby family-owned place that serves the best barbecue in town. We choose a booth near the back, away from the main flow of patrons. After our waiter brings our drinks and takes our order, we settle into comfortable conversation.
“So, why the summons?” Layton directs his question at Liam.
“Andie had an interesting convo with Landmark’s attorney and PM. Are we financing the joint venture?”
“We’re still in the preliminary stages, so nothing’s been decided. Their assets appear solid, but that’s only one piece of the package. Why?”
Liam motions for me to recount the details of my earlier conversation with the Landmark reps. I explain the issue surrounding the easements, and how Landmark believes the title company will overwrite them. Then, I explain my suspicion about the possible encroachment onto the adjacent property.
“It’s probably nothing, but?”
“When I walked in, Andie was plotting the legal descriptions of the two parcels,” Liam explains.
Layton’s brow shoots up. “Another hidden talent? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea,” Liam says teasingly. I shove his shoulder. He pokes me in the ribs. I retaliate by pinching the back of his arm.
This is the dynamic I can handle. Liam teasing. Me shoving. Liam poking. Me pinching. Tease. Shove. Poke. Pinch. Easy-peasy. Nothing complicated or murky or lost in the translation.
Only now, ever since the benefit, the dynamics between Liam and me are the opposite of easy-peasy.
Ever since the dance.
And the kiss.
A kiss that plays on autopilot in my mind multiple times a day. Every touch. Every moan. The feel of Liam’s lips on mine, as if he’d come home to a place he’d been longing for. But no matter how many times I relive that kiss, it always comes crashing to a halt with him abruptly pulling away, his frantic eyes looking everywhere but at me. And his comment…
“Earth to Andie–” Layton snaps his fingers in front of me. Liam studies me with a confused look on his face. I swivel my gaze back to Layton, and he gives me another one of his impish grins. “Wouldn’t I like to go where your mind just went!” His saucy smile widens. “Damn, girl. You’re blushing!”
I reach for my drink and take my time emptying the contents. This whole fake dating thing with Liam has me so flustered it’s a miracle I get any work done. Whereas, Liam, on the other hand, doesn’t seem phased by it at all. He seems to relish playing the role of fake boyfriend.
Tad, our waiter, and another server approach our table, and Tad introduces the server to us. “My shift is over, so Dan, here,” he points to the other waiter, “will be your new server. He’ll take good care of you. And if he doesn’t, you be sure to let me know, okay?” He directs his last statement to me and smiles. Then he points to the QR code placed at the back of the table. “I hope you’ll take a moment to complete our survey before you leave. Let us know how we can better serve you.”
With that, we thank Tad and Dan, and they move to the next table of guests sitting in Tad’s section. Liam and Layton share an amused glance.
“What?” I ask, my gaze shifting between the two brothers. “What’s that look for?”
“The waiter,” Liam explains, as if it’s obvious to everyone but me. “He’s flirting with you.”
I hide my scoff with a laugh. “It’s called being friendly, you dork.”
Liam raises his brow. “Remember what happened at the benefit? You didn’t believe me, but was I right?”
“Right about what?” Layton asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. I might have also accidentally kicked Liam under the table. At least, I hope it was Liam. “Can’t a guy be friendly without flirting?”
“Sure he can,” Layton says. “But when the girl is hot,” he gestures to me, “the dynamic changes.” Layton shoots Liam an exasperated look. “How is it you have not schooled Andie on the fine art of flirting?”
“Seemed pointless since she was with numb-nuts for the past five years.”
“True.” Layton looks at me and nods. “That guy was a tool, you realize that, right?”
“Apparently, I missed that particular memo,” I deadpan. “But isn’t this sort of a pot and kettle thing?”
“Who’s the pot and who’s the kettle?” Liam asks .
Shaking his head, Layton continues. “We’re getting off track. Andie, this may come as a shock to you, but you are gorgeous. Nope, don’t roll your eyes at me. You are objectively beautiful. I blame Liam for not making you recognize this about yourself. But I digress.”
“Yes, do go on, brother,” Liam says impatiently.
“Sometimes, when a man makes eye contact with a woman, an unspoken conversation takes place. The guy is saying, ‘I like what I see. Can’t, or won’t, do anything about it, but definitely enjoying the view.’ In a different universe, if the two of you were to meet, and you were both available, you’d be someone he might pursue.”
“Wow. Do you really expect me to believe you can glean all of that from two seconds of eye contact?”
Layton shrugs a shoulder and grins. “Take it or leave it, Andie, but I’m well educated in the art of women. If they handed out degrees for flirting, I’d be a Master of the art.
“I think the two of you are trying to punk me. There are plenty of guys who make eye contact, smile, and say hello without undressing me with their eyes.”
“Ahh!” Layton waves his finger at me for the third time since we arrived at the restaurant. “I said nothing about undressing you with their eyes. That’s an entirely different level of flirting. Those are the dangerous flirts–because they don’t care if you’re available or not.” His eyes cut to Liam and then back to me. “I’d be happy to demonstrate?—“
“Not. Happening,” Liam interrupts.
Again. Pot, meet kettle. But I don’t dare say that out loud, because Liam honestly seems bothered by Layton’s flir—. Well, what do you know? “You little sneak. You’re doing it right now, aren’t you?”
Layton’s mouth curls up on one side and his eyes dance with playful merriment, even as he pretends to be innocent. “Doing what, Andie dear? Undressing you with my eyes? ”
“Flirting.” I wave my finger back and forth the way you might if you were scolding an impetuous child. I’ve no doubt my face is flaming right now. Layton’s mouth stretches into a full grin.
I raise my glass to my mouth, only to remember I already drained the contents. “Men are so weird,” I lament.
“No argument there,” Layton says. “But just for the record, Tad would welcome any attention you’re willing to toss his way.”
“Maybe,” Liam says, his tone flat. “Except for the fact that Andie has a boyfriend at the moment, so she’s not available.” He turns to face me. “Right?”
I chuckle. And then I elbow Liam in his side.
The waiter returns with our dinner and the three of us settle into our food, moaning with satisfaction, because this place really does grill the best barbecue in town. Likely the best in the entire state of Oregon.
Layton raps his knuckles on the table. “Okay, let’s get down to business here. If we end up financing the venture with Landmark, we will want a clear title. Our policy is strict about this, and even though a title company may insure the property as clear, if they overwrite someone’s interest of record and it comes up later, we’ll be dragged into the drama. It takes time to do things properly, but that’s our standard for best practices.
Andie, If you suspect an issue with the legal description on one of the parcels, I would encourage you to trust your gut. Don’t cancel the inspection. Landmark can send their in-house inspectors out, but we will insist on a third-party inspection before approving any loans. You and Liam may want to walk the properties yourselves. There’s big money on the line so Landmark may be pushing for favors, but that’s not how we roll in finance.”
And this is why even though Layton is a ladies’ man, a naughty flirt, a player, and the black sheep of the family, his business ethic is solid and above reproach.
“One more thing, and then I gotta jet. I’m glad the two of you finally figured things out and made your relationship official. We all knew you’d get there eventually. And Andie, if Liam doesn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated, let me know.”
I speak without thinking. “We’re not actually together. I’m just Liam’s fake girlfriend.”
Layton’s eyebrows shoot straight up and his mouth pulls into an amused smirk. “Come again?”
I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “We’re,” I gesture between Liam and myself, “not really together. We’re doing the boyfriend/girlfriend thing to help each other out during all the spring events.”
Layton pierces Liam with a pointed gaze. “You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” he scoffs. He shakes his head and looks like he’s about to say more, but thinks better of it. He tosses a $20 bill on the table, says his goodbyes, and gives me a very flirtatious wink.
By all the stars in the heavens that man is wicked! Even though I know he only flirts with me in front of Liam because he wants to push Liam’s buttons.
Layton walks away, leaving Liam and me to chew on his comment about Liam being a fool. I stare at Layton’s retreating form until he reaches the entrance to the restaurant. I watch as he holds the door open and steps aside to allow a group of people to enter before he finally exits.
“Liam,” I say quietly, staring at the closed door.
He responds with an absent-minded “Hmm?”
“What just happened?”
Liam’s brows pull together in confusion. “Um…It’s just Layton being Layton.”
“I think maybe you and I should talk about this whole fake dating thing. ”
Liam nods his head slowly. “Okay,” he says as if not following my train of thought. We sit for a moment, neither saying anything to break the silence. We both reach for our beverages at the same time, toss our heads back, and finish off our drinks. Liam pulls at his chin. “You go first.”
I arch an eyebrow in a silent challenge. Liam and I study each other for a moment, and our mouths slowly lift into matching grins because we both know what’s coming next.
In unison, we mouth the words, “Not it,” and prepare to arm wrestle.