***
The following week, my life went from great to phenomenal. If I knew a better word than that, I’d use it, but I hadn’t had much reason to bolster my vocabulary of superlatives relating to the state of my life in the last thirty years. Sure, I was successful—and until a few months ago, I thought that was what it took to make me happy. I hadn’t even known I was unfulfilled until, well, until I got my fill of Autumn.
On Sunday, we went to Bud’s so Storm could do the work he’d agreed to do in exchange for the bike. Autumn and I did some painting inside while we were there, and I managed to sneak her into the garage and cop a cheap feel while we made out like two horny teenagers. At night, I served dinner with Bud. He still had his cast on, but he wanted to help—and by help, I mean he wanted to boss me around like I didn’t know what I was doing after fifteen years of doing it with him. But it made him happy, and I was glad he was in good spirits again, so I didn’t give a shit.
On Wednesday night, I took Autumn out to dinner—at a bowling alley, where she proceeded to spank my ass and bowl a two hundred and six. Apparently, her father had a bowling team for his law firm, and she’d always joined them growing up. Normally, I was super competitive, and a loss to anyone would have bruised my ego, but this time I didn’t give a shit if my girl handed me my ass in a game, because she smiled all night. Also, every time she got a strike she jumped up and down, which I liked a lot.
I also somehow managed to bill one of my highest weeks, and old man Kravitz came down from the ivory tower to tell me I’d done a great job for one of his personal VIP clients who’d gotten himself into trouble with the SEC.
Yeah, shit couldn’t have been going better.
My phone buzzed on my desk, and the picture I’d taken of Autumn last year flashed on my screen. At the risk of sounding like a complete dorky sap, a little warmth ran through my belly. Actually, if feeling like this made me a dork—I’d been totally missing out by trying to be cool all my life.
Leaning back into my chair, I swiped to answer.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“You answer the phone like that for all women, don’t you?” I heard the smile in her voice.
“There is no other woman, sweetheart.”
She sighed. “I called to say thank you for the stuff you bought for Storm.”
I’d stopped over at Park House this morning and dropped off a bag with a lock for the bicycle Bud had given him, and also a Nike sweatshirt with a reflective stripe down the side for when he inevitably rode in the dark. But he’d already left for school, and I was running late. The woman at the front desk was busy on the phone, so I’d written Storm’s name on the bag and motioned that I was leaving. It wasn’t until I got to my car that I’d realized I forgot to leave my name.
“How did you know I gave him something?”
“Hmmm… A good guess? When I stopped over at Park House for a meeting earlier, Rochelle at the front desk told me some hot guy dropped off a bag for Storm.”
I grinned. “You think I’m hot?”
She laughed. “I can see your gloating, cocky face right now even through a phone call. Let me guess, you’re leaning back in your chair, too?”
I sprang forward in my seat. “No, I’m not.”
She laughed. “Anyway, I just called to say thank you for doing that. It was very sweet. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“You’re always a welcome break.”
“You working late tonight?”
“Yeah. You and Skye watching your show and talking about me?”
“Believe it or not, not everything is about you.”
“I definitely don’t believe that.”
She chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“Can’t wait.”
“Me too.”
An hour later, Blake Dickson appeared at my office door. I was on the phone with a client, but that didn’t stop him from coming on inside and taking a seat while I finished my call.
I forced a cheery smile when I hung up. “What’s up, boss?”
He picked up a crystal paperweight of the Earth I kept on my desk and tossed it up and down like it was a stress ball. I gritted my teeth—it had been a gift from Bud when I graduated law school, and was the only personal item to be found anywhere in my office.
“I need a favor.”
I need one too. Get the fuck out of my office.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I have dinner tomorrow night with Todd Aster. You helped squash an inquiry the feds made about some of his investments a few years back.”