Was she perhaps telling him we make great coffee, or does she know I work here and she’s spreading the word to her kind that I can see past glamours?
A wave of paranoia strikes and without thought, I rush around the counter and head toward the door. I jerk it open, turn right, and prepare myself to sprint to catch up to her. I have no clue what I’ll say, but I’ll make it casual as if I just happened to see her and wanted to say hello. I need to look her in the eye to see if I can detect any ill will from her.
Instead of landing eyes on Echo and her friend, I run straight into a woman. It’s when the woman says, “God, Finley… watch where you’re going,” that I realize it’s my sister.
Fallon’s arms go to my shoulders while mine go to hers to stop our bodies from careening off each other.
“Shit. Sorry,” I mutter, looking around her to see if I can locate Echo, but she’s gone.
“Who were you running after?” she asks, dropping her hands and tugging her suit jacket down. It’s butter yellow, and it matches the knee-length skirt she’s wearing.
“Oh, just someone I thought I knew,” I reply vaguely, but then I frown. “Are you here to get some coffee?”
Fallon gives me a pointed smirk. “I can get coffee from my thousand-dollar personal espresso machine if I want,” she chides with a faux stern look. “I came to see you, but I wouldn’t mind a coffee.”
“Came to see me?” I ask because this is clearly out of the ordinary. It’s a Monday, and Fallon wouldn’t just leave her gallery to come see me for a cup of coffee.
“Can’t a girl check in on her sister to see how things are going?” she asks, her tone actually warm and without a hint of condescension I sometimes get when I question her need to be my “big” sister.
Blinking away my surprise, I smile. “Of course. Come on in and grab us a table. I’ll get us some coffee.”
Inside, I grab a black for me and make Fallon’s favorite frou-frou drink. I find her sitting at a corner table, scrolling through her phone. When I set her coffee before her, she sets her phone down and smiles up at me. “Thanks.”
“Sure,” I reply, sitting down opposite her. I take a sip, studying her as she does the same. “So, what’s up?”
Placing her cup down, she crosses her arms on the table. “I just want to check in on you to see how you’re doing. I know you’ve been super busy these last several weeks, and Lord knows… I get how hard it is to run a business. I just want to know if you need any help or anything.”
Her words are double-edged. True concern because she loves me and wants to see me succeed, but worry I’m going to fall flat on my face. She’d probably take failure as badly as I would. She has money invested in this, after all.
“It’s going great,” I assure her. “Yes, I’m super busy. Working seven days a week, but, honestly, I love this new role so much. It doesn’t seem like work at all.”
Fondness steals over her expression, and she nods. “I remember those days when I first started the gallery. I’d come home exhausted to the bone, yet I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so I could do it all over again.”
“Yes,” I exclaim in affirmation. She nailed it.
It’s the same for me, except it’s more than just a driving passion for One Bean fueling me now. My nights working out with Titus, or learning more about my abilities, are just as thrilling. They are helping to drive me forward despite the severe lack of sleep because I’m so busy.
“How have things been working with Carrick?” she asks tentatively, but I can tell by the slight hesitation in her tone that this is her true interest. I know she thinks I landed the motherload of silent investors with him, and she’s beyond impressed. I’m also sure she’d love to leverage my business relationship with him to her benefit at some point. Still, I can’t blame her for that. Having Carrick Byrne buy from her gallery would be a huge coup.
“It’s fine,” I reply, but then I realize my words aren’t quite accurate. “Great, actually.”
I surprise myself with that admission as I realize… Carrick has helped me achieve an amazing goal with buying One Bean, and it’s not been hard dealing with him on it at all. Not the contentious way we have between us on other things, but, on the flip side, I do deal with his secretary a lot regarding the business.
“He’s been easy to work with,” I admit, running a finger around the rim of my coffee. “Even as a silent partner, he’d told me I shouldn’t expect him to be silent, but he hasn’t been intrusive. Helpful more than anything, actually. In fact, he’s coming here a bit later to work on my human resources manual with me.”