That’s the idea: go completely off the grid.”
“Great. Then I guess mi casa e su casa , buddy.”
“Thanks. You’re a life saver, Rick.”
He disconnected the phone and sighed with relief, then closed the file he’d been working on. He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, especially not his old man, but four days in, all he had were random scribblings and some really funky doodles.
True, he’d managed to earn a master’s degree. In Commercial Art and Graphic Design. The last time his father had indulged him. He kinda doubted whether working in his chosen field would sustain his and Charlene’s lifestyle, though. And then there was his hobby of photography, and even that didn’t look all that appealing when compared to the Calypso billions.
No, he would simply have to buckle up and push through. Daddy had told him to come up with a killer idea for a new real estate project, and that’s what he would do. Even if it killed him.
He turned off his phone, picked up his laptop, his copy of The Art of The Deal , and quickly scrawled a note to his father and placed it on the desk.
Hey Dad!
I’m hard at work on the project.
Even though you can’t see me.
That’s because I’m not here.
I’m in fact somewhere else.
Working.
Hard.
On the project.
See you!
Bomer
CHAPTER 24
Without hesitation, Felicity negotiated the Happy Bays Inn and walked straight on through to the kitchen. Happy Bays’s one and only claim to hostelry fame wasn’t a grand operation, but it was clean and cozy and quite popular with the regulars. The inn’s proprietor, Mary Long, prided herself on running a business geared to families, and made sure that there was always something to do for both parents and kids.
She placed the crate with bread and pastry on the gleaming stainless steel kitchen countertop and waited patiently for one of the kitchen staff to check its contents and give her the thumbs up.
She ambled over to the swinging doors that led into the inn’s dining room and saw that some early guests were already lining up at the breakfast buffet. She eagerly took a whiff of the aroma of sizzling eggs and freshly brewed coffee and was reminding herself it was probably time for her second breakfast of the day when a familiar figure burst through the dining room doors and headed straight for the coffeemaker.
On this beautiful morning, Rick Dawson looked nothing like his usual handsome self. His blond hair was tousled, his shirt rumpled, and his face a thundercloud. The man was clearly in a foul mood. Felicity’s heart bled. Even though she didn’t see eye to eye with the reporter, she felt for him.
It was obvious from what the NYPD detectives had told her that he was a man with a lot of issues. And very soon now she would be adding one more in the form of a complaint filed by her against that dreadful article of his.
Seeing Rick again suddenly made her want to thresh this thing out in person. Before allowing Alice to coerce her into filing charges, that had been her first thought. She didn’t like things like this hanging in the air, and she had no trouble telling a person to his or her face exactly what she thought of them.
She walked up to Rick and cleared her throat.
It was the last thing he’d expected, for he jumped about a foot in the air, and spilled the coffee he’d just poured all over his shirtfront.
“Ouch!” he cried as the piping hot liquid hit his sensitive skin.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
At the sound of her voice, he slowly turned his head and laid a look on her so frigid, it could have frozen the coffee and saved him a lot of trouble.
“You!” For a moment he just stood there, breathing heavily through his nostrils. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d breathed fire.
“I’m so sorry about this,” she said tentatively.
“You!” he repeated, and it didn’t sound as if she was his favorite person in the world. Nor could she blame him. It seemed as if every time they met, he
“Great. Then I guess mi casa e su casa , buddy.”
“Thanks. You’re a life saver, Rick.”
He disconnected the phone and sighed with relief, then closed the file he’d been working on. He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, especially not his old man, but four days in, all he had were random scribblings and some really funky doodles.
True, he’d managed to earn a master’s degree. In Commercial Art and Graphic Design. The last time his father had indulged him. He kinda doubted whether working in his chosen field would sustain his and Charlene’s lifestyle, though. And then there was his hobby of photography, and even that didn’t look all that appealing when compared to the Calypso billions.
No, he would simply have to buckle up and push through. Daddy had told him to come up with a killer idea for a new real estate project, and that’s what he would do. Even if it killed him.
He turned off his phone, picked up his laptop, his copy of The Art of The Deal , and quickly scrawled a note to his father and placed it on the desk.
Hey Dad!
I’m hard at work on the project.
Even though you can’t see me.
That’s because I’m not here.
I’m in fact somewhere else.
Working.
Hard.
On the project.
See you!
Bomer
CHAPTER 24
Without hesitation, Felicity negotiated the Happy Bays Inn and walked straight on through to the kitchen. Happy Bays’s one and only claim to hostelry fame wasn’t a grand operation, but it was clean and cozy and quite popular with the regulars. The inn’s proprietor, Mary Long, prided herself on running a business geared to families, and made sure that there was always something to do for both parents and kids.
She placed the crate with bread and pastry on the gleaming stainless steel kitchen countertop and waited patiently for one of the kitchen staff to check its contents and give her the thumbs up.
She ambled over to the swinging doors that led into the inn’s dining room and saw that some early guests were already lining up at the breakfast buffet. She eagerly took a whiff of the aroma of sizzling eggs and freshly brewed coffee and was reminding herself it was probably time for her second breakfast of the day when a familiar figure burst through the dining room doors and headed straight for the coffeemaker.
On this beautiful morning, Rick Dawson looked nothing like his usual handsome self. His blond hair was tousled, his shirt rumpled, and his face a thundercloud. The man was clearly in a foul mood. Felicity’s heart bled. Even though she didn’t see eye to eye with the reporter, she felt for him.
It was obvious from what the NYPD detectives had told her that he was a man with a lot of issues. And very soon now she would be adding one more in the form of a complaint filed by her against that dreadful article of his.
Seeing Rick again suddenly made her want to thresh this thing out in person. Before allowing Alice to coerce her into filing charges, that had been her first thought. She didn’t like things like this hanging in the air, and she had no trouble telling a person to his or her face exactly what she thought of them.
She walked up to Rick and cleared her throat.
It was the last thing he’d expected, for he jumped about a foot in the air, and spilled the coffee he’d just poured all over his shirtfront.
“Ouch!” he cried as the piping hot liquid hit his sensitive skin.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
At the sound of her voice, he slowly turned his head and laid a look on her so frigid, it could have frozen the coffee and saved him a lot of trouble.
“You!” For a moment he just stood there, breathing heavily through his nostrils. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d breathed fire.
“I’m so sorry about this,” she said tentatively.
“You!” he repeated, and it didn’t sound as if she was his favorite person in the world. Nor could she blame him. It seemed as if every time they met, he
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