days at a time.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, it’s really short notice, but he’d like to come up the day after tomorrow. But there’s a bit of a problem with the accommodation – all the cabins are fully booked until next weekend. Except for one.”
Julie realized what Rob was getting at. “Except mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’d like me to move out.”
“If that’s OK.”
Julie sighed. “And none of the other cabins are free for me to move to?”
“Just the Big House.”
“The Big House. Right.”
Rob waited anxiously. Greg Peters was a very important client, and he sent a ton of business their way – his word-of-mouth was invaluable.
Julie stared out the window at the Big House in the distance, clearly visible from Rob’s office. She wasn’t ready for this, but she wasn’t about to turn away a customer.
“OK,” she said. “I’ll move in to the Big House the day after tomorrow.”
Rob was surprised and delighted. He thought that for sure she’d be unreasonable about having to move. Thank God she understands money.
“I’ll ask Joe to help you, alright?”
“Thanks, Rob.” Julie gave him a tired little smile.
“Sure. And hey, are you OK? You look a bit wiped out.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I’ll head up to the cabin now, have an early night.”
“Well, I’ll call Mr. Peters and then I’m off too.”
“OK. Goodnight.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Julie started back down the hallway, and then she paused. She had still not entered David Reid’s office at the end of the hall; she’d made a point of avoiding it all weekend, and all day. She’d sent Mattie in to gather all the documents she’d needed for their meeting that day, but they’d actually sat in the conference room. In her purse, she still had the key that Rob had given her the week before.
Julie stood in front of the office door, turning the key over and over in her hands. Well, come on. In two days, you move to the Big House, so you might as well just get this over and done with too. It’s like ripping off a bandage – just do it all at once. It’ll hurt like hell, but only for a few seconds. You can do this.
Her fingers trembling, she put the key in the lock, turned it. She pushed the door open slowly and stood in the hall, peering in to the darkened room. There was a bit of light coming in through a massive window next to the desk: she saw bookshelves and cabinets, a sofa, some chairs. She groped on the wall next to the door, found the light switch, flicked the light on.
David Reid’s office – now her office – was a place of organization and style and grace. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and turned around to look at it from a distance. It was beautiful, actually: practical and streamlined, but not cold or overly masculine. She’d been expecting leather everywhere and animal heads mounted on the walls. Sure enough, the sofa was leather, but it was a deep, rich mahogany that warmed the whole room.
She started to walk around, looking at things on the shelves now. Lots of photos. She braced herself, and picked up the one on the desk.
It was a man and a woman on a sailboat, a bright blue sky overhead. They were smiling hugely, holding hands. They looked happy. Julie focused on the man’s face: this must be her father. He was handsome, she supposed, and the silver hair made him look distinguished. His eyes were exactly like hers.
In shock, she sat down in the desk chair. His eyes. Her eyes . Shit. All this time, I’ve been carrying around a piece of him, right on my face and I had no idea. Goddamn him.
She stared wildly around the room and saw her eyes, his eyes, watching her, looking out at her from every single picture. She jumped to her feet and went to the first bookshelf. A photo of her father and Jake, drinking beer; one of her father and his staff at a barbecue. She opened the doors at the bottom of the bookshelf, found some empty space, and stuffed the pictures in there.