Page 82 of A Bossy Roommate
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Eleanor huffs and gently pats him on the arm as she makes a move to try to stand up. “Of course I am. I already packed the bags I won’t be needing tonight. We just need to move them over.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Carter says, forcing her to sit back down. “You stay put. I ordered us some dinner, and it should be here in a few minutes.” He kisses her on her wrinkly forehead before he stands.
As he goes off to handle her luggage, I take Eleanor’s hand. “If things don’t work out at Hattie’s, you’re always welcome to come back here,” I tell her.
She smiles sweetly and pats my cheek. Then she lowers her voice and gives me a mischievous smile. “I’m old enough to know when I am overstepping. You two need to be together now, as a couple. Not with an old bat like me hanging around.”
I stare at her, knowing exactly what she’s implying. “Oh, stop that! It’s nothing like that! You’re good. You’re fabulous.”
“Does not make me any less old,” she says with a chuckle. She lowers her voice even more. “There is one thing you can do for me though, before Carter gets back.”
“Anything.”
“Glass of merlot, a vintage year if there is not one open already.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you not supposed to drink?”
She giggles. “It will be our little secret.”
23
CARTER
I’m skeptical about my aunt moving into Hattie’s spare room. Not necessarily about my aunt’s safety or anything like that. I’m sure the two of them will have a good time, and she’ll be well taken care of. With each visit over the years, the two women have grown closer. The last time Auntie visited, she told me she and Hattie were as inseparable as Waldorf and Statler (the two puppets onThe Muppet Showwho sit in the balcony and talk shit about the others), and while I could see her point, I always thought the comparison was flawed. The two elderly women are rather good at observing, that’s true, and they love nothing more than to make fun of themselves as well as others, which is true as well. But they both have an admirable positivity about them that is in stark contrast to Waldorf and Statler’s cantankerous personas.
What I’m concerned about is Hattie spilling the beans. Eden assured me that she wouldn’t, and while part of me wants to believe that’s true, another part isn’t as confident. We’ve never really been that warm toward each other, even though I believe our family trip might have helped in that regard. While I don’t think Hattie will say anything to be malicious, she isn’t exactlyknown for keeping a secret. Half of our conversations over the years have been her trying to fill me in on the gossip happening in the building. No, thank you.
However, with the way things are moving at work, I have no choice. I have to take Eden’s word that Hattie has things handled. At the very least, it sets my mind at ease that Aunt Eleanor won’t be alone all day. I certainly prefer her being here with us instead of in France. The good thing is, Hattie has clearly developed a soft spot for Eden, and I hope that closeness will be enough to convince her to keep our secret to herself.
Wednesday is a big day.
Legacy is on the brink of landing a huge contract, one that will replace the loss created by Granger Estates and then some. Months of late nights and intense legwork have culminated in representatives from Harbor View Developments coming to the office to meet face to face so we can pitch our ideas and sign the papers. If it all goes through without a hitch, it’ll be the biggest contract I’ve ever organized. Even bigger than Granger Estates. Unfortunately, the Grangers have decided in favor of Ecclestone. To my dismay, I was unable to convince them to change their minds: My attempts to establish communication with them had consistently been impeded.
Harbor View Developments work mainly on the coast. They specialize in flipping houses and properties for a profit. They’d started small about twenty years or so ago but quickly grew, expanding into the Pacific Northwest region. Their growth was the reason I reached out to them in the first place, only to find out that they were looking to expand on the East Coast and New England States, which led me to believe we were an ideal partnerfor their endeavors. With so many branches and properties, they need a company like ours to take over the construction side of things, so they can focus their efforts on sales.
It’s a huge deal.
Following our visit to Phoenix, they flatly rejected every single offer put forth by Ecclestone Construction, as well as declining an offer from one of our main competitors, Humphries Properties. Apparently, my work with the Grangers was what convinced them to proceed with us in the first place, and this time, I’m not going to let such an influential client get away.
It’s unnecessary to explain to Eden how important Harbor View Developments is to us. In the weeks she’s been working as my assistant, she’s already become fully in the picture.
With Aunt Eleanor safely at Hattie’s, Eden and I start the day bright and early. So early in fact that I ignore my “we can’t drive in together” rule, because we both need to be in the office as soon as possible to prepare. These are tumultuous times, and nobody will think twice about me and my assistant working closely together day and night. We’re early enough that even Gwen, our front desk manager, isn’t there. It’s still the night guard who stifles a yawn the moment we step off the elevator. The entire drive in and way up to the office, I fill Eden in on any last-minute changes she needs to know.
She takes the whole thing in stride, pounding down the Starbucks coffee and their breakfast sandwich I ordered in the drive-thru for her before she heads off to the conference room to get it ready.
While she handles the small details, I go through my notes one last time. My numbers are sound. I’ve run them several times with the board and gone through line by line myself. I’ve given hundreds of presentations throughout my life, and while I’m not the least bit nervous, there’s still a nagging feeling in theback of my mind—like I’m waiting for the unexpected twist, the other shoe to drop.
I hear Eden open the glass door and walk in, and a few seconds later, I stand to meet her at her desk. “I need you to double-check the file I just sent you and print out four more sets,” I say, my eyes focused on the tablet in my hand.
When Eden doesn’t respond, I look up at her. Immediately I can tell something’s wrong by the look on her face. “What’s going on?”
She holds up her finger to tell me to wait. My eyebrows jolt upward, and right before I press for an answer, I see Huxley walk by the glass door and disappear into his office. I glance at my watch. It’s still early, and he’s never been in before eight o’clock.
Eden lowers her finger and gives me a look that doesn’t sit well with me. She closes the glass door and keeps her voice low. “I overheard Mr. Huxley while I was setting up.”
“Judging by your expression he wasn’t making a social call.”