Page 2 of Negotiating Tactics

That I still had it was another small silver lining of the night.

My phone was my lifeline, so if it had also been destroyed, I don’t know what I would have done.

I scrolled through my text messages and found the one from Birdie with the code for the door.

Before I could turn off the screen, the phone started to vibrate.

I had a new message. I looked at the number, felt my stomach drop, and then pushed the phone back into my pocket without listening to the message. In all the madness, I must have missed the call.

And I didn’t have time for it right now.

Still, while I knew now wasn’t the time, I felt guilty.

And worried.

If he was calling at this hour, he might need something or be hurt. Plus, he’d called me more in the last couple of months than he had in years, and I had even seen him a couple of times.

I wanted to nurture that connection, and some part of me worried that if I didn’t answer, he might not ever call again.

But when the reality of my situation hit me again, I again knew I had made the right decision.

I was handling all I could, and I didn’t have the space for more right now.

After I double-checked the number, I keyed in the code and waited.

A beep, a click, and the lock decompressed.

I pushed the door open and then looked back at the driver, who was still standing on the porch.

“I really appreciate it,” I said, smiling at him.

He nodded and returned the smile.

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he said.

He handed me the bag and then took a step back as I twisted the knob and pushed one of the heavy double doors open. The driver stood on the porch until I was inside and had closed and locked the door. I noticed a small screen next to the door, and when I touched it, the screen lit up. I watched as the driver skipped down the stairs, down the brick walkway, and back to the sleek car.

I watched until he drove away and then turned, putting my back to the door. The heavy wood was cool, and I closed my eyes and breathed out, trying to get my head together.

When I’d entered, the lights had flickered on, illuminating the foyer, but after I’d stood there for a few moments, I saw them dim.

The lights must have been on a timer or motion detector. I opened my eyes and saw the barely lit foyer.

The lights flashed on when I moved, and I let my duffel bag slide off my shoulder and stood to look around.

The low whistle I let out didn’t do the place justice.

Before, I’d thought Dominic’s penthouse was the nicest home I’d ever seen.

It was nothing compared to this place.

Tall ceilings, beautifully polished hardwood floors, and a dramatic front foyer, which didn’t seem possible based on the classic look outside.

That perfect mix of modern and traditional.

And exactly the feel I wanted for my building.

A smile lifted my cheeks, but that little thrill was tempered by thoughts of reality.