I woke with a start, my alarm buzzing in my ear, and tears burning the backs of my eyelids. “You didn’t let me.”
**********
Monday morning dawned clear and chilly. I felt better, revived. It was a whole new week, a chance to start fresh, and I had so many exciting things going on. I’d sent the McMaster quote on Saturday after I’d arrived home from delivering the Spellman flowers to the church, and then decorating the reception hall with centerpieces featuring golden dahlias, cream and pale pink garden roses, bright orange ranunculus, cymbidium orchids, and herbs and fern for the greenery. They’d turned out stunning, if I did say so myself, and I’d spent extra time on photographs for my online portfolio.
The McMaster quote had come to a total that made me feel slightly nauseated as I’d never sent such a large figure to anyone. I thought I’d been more than fair in my pricing, and only quoted what they’d asked for, so I’d taken a deep breath and hit send. A reply came back Sunday morning saying everything looked good and a deposit would go in the mail on Monday. I’d been thankful I was alone so no one could hear the excited squeak I hadn’t been able to contain.
And now I was back at work, ready to seize the day, or at least seize some coffee. I put a strong pot on brew and straightened the kitchen as the machine hissed and gurgled, loving when the rich aroma filled the room.
Cup in hand, I walked carefully to my studio, sipping the hot goodness on the way to avoid the liquid I’d filled right up to the brim from sloshing over.
I threw my purse and keys on my desk and sat down, taking another sip of my coffee before logging on to my computer. I did a little bit of work as I finished my first cup, but was basically caught up as I’d worked most of the weekend from home.
“Morning,” Jay said as he came in the door.
I looked up, raising a brow at the bags under his eyes and his slow pace as he walked the dozen or so steps to his desk and sunk into his chair. “Rough weekend?”
“No. This is what an amazing weekend looks like.”
I laughed. “You make it seem so appealing.”
He put his elbow on his desk and rested his cheek on his hand, pushing his face into a contorted expression of exhaustion. “You should have come out dancing with me Saturday. You missed an epic night.”
“I see that.”
Jay let out a long-suffering sigh and raised his head. “Tell me there’s coffee.”
“There is. Grab a travel cup. I need you to come with me to look at flooring for Baptiste’s kitchen. I have to get it installed so he can move his equipment in by the first of the month. I need his rent.”
“Ugh. Okay.”
I laughed. Jay liked to party and come dragging into work on Mondays, but he was wonderful. I knew I could count on him, because he was not only a diligent employee, but a hard worker too. But mostly, he had a heart of gold. His only flaw was that he tried ruthlessly to get me to want more of a social life and I just . . . didn’t. I liked my quiet, predictable life and that was that. I didn’t need more. I didn’t want more.
Jay had moved to Colorado to attend college three and a half years before right around the time I had finally decided I could afford to hire a part-time assistant. He’d been a godsend, working two mornings a week, and one afternoon between his classes so I could not only keep my business running, but manage work on the building as well. But he’d graduate in June with a degree in graphic design, and not only could I not afford to offer him a full-time position—at least not if things were the same for me financially in six months—but he should pursue a job in his field of study. I could hire another part-time assistant, I supposed, but probably no one capable of creating splashy brochures, postcards, and all the graphics for my website. No one I felt so comfortable with. I hardly wanted to think about it. Not only was I going to miss him on a professional and personal level, but I hated change. Change always unsettled me. No wonder my mind was drifting all over the place recently.
Jay came in with a travel mug, and I took my jacket from the back of my chair and started to put it on.
“Oh,” Jay said, grabbing a pile of what looked like mail on the edge of his desk, “this is
from Friday. It was delivered while we were putting together the Spellman pieces and I forgot to give it to you before I left.”
“Thanks. I’ll look through it when I get back.” I took it from him and turned to toss it on my desk when the return address on the top caught my eye. I frowned. Rutherford, Dunning, and Ross, Attorneys at Law. My heart leapt and my blood chilled in my veins. I knew that law firm. I was personally acquainted with those lawyers. Unfortunately.
With shaking hands, I tossed the rest of the mail on my desk and tore open the envelope. What in the world could this be?
“You okay, Audra?” I heard Jay’s voice, but didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I unfolded the single page and began reading.
The air whooshed from my lungs and my skin broke out in a cold sweat. What? My eyes began scanning the lines more quickly, reading the legal jargon as fast as possible while trying to grasp how in the hell this could be happening.
“Audra?” Jay’s voice, closer now. “You’re as white as a sheet. What’s wrong?”
I finally glanced at him, opening my mouth once and then closing it, shaking my head as if I might be in a dream—a nightmare—and a good head shake would wake me up. “They say they’re taking the building from me.”
“They? Who’s they?”
I shook my head again, grabbing hold of the side of my desk and leaning against it, the paper floating out of my hands to land on the floor. My legs felt weak. No, no, there was a mistake. Of course there was. This was impossible. I turned to Jay, my butt still resting on the solid wood, but forcing a deep breath through my body. Jay had picked up the piece of paper and was reading through it. He paused, frowning as he glanced at me. “Who’s Luella Townsend?”
“She’s an old bitch with too much money and a cold, black heart.”