Page 8 of Charmed Forces

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Page 8 of Charmed Forces

“Only if it’s affordable, Mom. We can always squish in together somehow.” I looked up as Solomon stood in the doorway of his office. “Gotta go,” I said. “The boss wants me.”

“I’ll text you with some dates for our day out,” said Mom. “Try not to work too hard.”

I hung up and smiled. “I have the report ready,” I said.

“Good. The client is coming in later today. He wants to speak to you directly. He sounds increasingly paranoid.”

“Then I can settle that finally. It’s all very clear.”

“I’ll prepare an invoice.”

“Do you have anything else for me?” I asked hopefully. Between last night’s flashbacks and my mom’s baby hints, I wanted to keep busy.

“A few small cases for you to look through and take your pick from. Nothing exciting. Mostly surveillance.”

“I’ll refresh my car snacks.”

“Can you cover the phones while I head out to the construction site?”

“Trouble?” I wondered.

“No, just want to make an appearance.”

“No problem.”

“Do you want me to stick around and talk to the client with you?”

“No, I can handle him.” Markham Hardy was an affable sort of man; although tall and broad, he had a gentle demeanor that suggested he wouldn’t hurt a thing. I felt he would take the results well despite his disappointment that his worst fears could not be proved.

“Then I’ll meet you at home for dinner. Are you in the mood for anything? Japanese, maybe?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

“Shame. I liked the idea of sushi but we can cook instead if you want.” There was no hint of a smile to suggest Solomon was teasing. Perhaps he hadn’t heard yet. That, surely, wouldn’t last long.

“Best not. My mother thinks I’m becoming domesticated and I feel the need to fight against that. Let’s get pizza.”

“Monty’s?”

“Always.”

“You got it.”

Solomon left a few minutes later, leaving me alone in the office I shared with the three other private investigators. Tony Delgado had been making himself scarce lately, something I attributed to being married to my sister, Serena, and the resulting internal conflict between loving his wife and wondering if she were overly high maintenance. That was a shame. I liked Delgado. He was a solid guy and good company. I really, really hoped my sister didn’t give him a heart attack one day. Steve Fletcher and Matt Flaherty were staking out another construction site that had been plagued with what the developers thought were squatters and thieves. From what Fletcher and Flaherty said so far, they thought something much more serious was going on. It was a lot of long, lonely hours, tag-teaming surveillance and after a couple weeks of similar conditions, I wasn’t eager to join them, although I would have if no other sizable case came in.

Since my report was finished, and the phones weren’t ringing, I settled in to some important online window shopping. I didn’t have any exciting events that I needed new clothes for but that didn’t stop me browsing some gorgeous dresses. Perhaps Lily and I needed to organize a night out? Or maybe I would suggest to Solomon later that we book a weekend trip? With that idea in mind, I browsed a few travel websites, wondering if we were in the mood for a secluded but luxury cabin getaway, or a quirky rental in a city within a drivable distance. Maybe even a trip to Calendar, the quaint mountain town my oldest brother, Garrett, and his wife, Traci, had recently visited and enjoyed. Or we could go overseas? Perhaps that could kickstart the baby-making? So far, it was a non-starter. Although Solomon hadn’t said anything, I wondered if he, too, were beginning to wonder why I wasn’t pregnant yet.

On the plus side, the attempts to become so were a whole lot of fun and almost like being on honeymoon all over again. I yawned. A very tiring honeymoon.

When my desk phone rang, I jumped. “Client here for you, Ms. Graves,” said Jim the doorman. “A Mr. Markham Hardy from MH Construction. Shall I send him up?”

“Please,” I said. “I’ll meet him at the elevator.”

“I’ll pass that on.”

I gathered my file and my cellphone and headed out of the office and down one flight of stairs to the suite of meeting rooms we kept. The building wasn’t large but big enough for our needs, and tall enough for other businesses to occupy the other floors. The meeting rooms now also doubled as workspaces for employees that needed private space. I used them occasionally to view video footage when I misplaced my headphones, as well as to make long phone calls when my colleagues needed to concentrate. Some of the risk management team who worked on the floor above the PI office used the rooms to host small meetings. Yet it was always the clients’ needs that trumped the business’s but today, there would be no issue. Very few people were in the building.

“Hi, Mr. Hardy,” I said, extending my hand as the client stepped out of the elevator. “Nice to see you.”




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