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Surprise flickers through me, but I maintain my stony facade. I am bored. How does he know?

The intercom beeps once. “Mr. Nichols, Miss Fox is on the phone.”

Every cell in my body jolts to immediate attention. “Which one?”

Carson is being vague on purpose. I’m sure of it.

“Finley.”

Guy points at me. “I got it. You owe me one since you stole my assistant.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the door.

“I didn’t steal anyone. I offered Carson a better life than the one you peddled to him.”

Guy lounges back, resting his ankle on his knee. “I’m not leaving until you at least agree to think about it.”

Carson cuts in through the speaker. “Shall I take a message?”

“No. Guy is on his way out.” I glare at him.

Guy lifts his brows, waiting for an answer. “Well?”

“Fine,” I grind out. “I’ll think about it.” And then say no eventually.

He grins. “I’ll call you next week.”

“Whatever,” I mumble as he exits my office, leaving the door open.

“Put Finley through.”

The phone rings, and I put it on speaker. “Two times in one week? To what do I owe the torture?”

She laughs. “Such a charmer. I wanted to talk to you about intersession camps.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know, we’ve planned for Camp Aria to be mainly a summer camp, but I was thinking during the fall or winter break, we could have shorter camp sessions. Just a week long or so. We could also consider hosting weekend retreats that focus on one skill set, like a two-day cooking camp or a two-day camping-and-hiking retreat.”

Working with Finley has been more productive than I anticipated, especially after our somewhat rocky start. When I say somewhat rocky, I mean she nearly killed, maimed, or tortured the business associates I sent out in vain attempts to purchase her property early this year. I finally called in a favor from Archer, one of the best negotiators I’ve ever known, and he ended up moving in with Finley and bargaining for a joint partnership to please us both. I even gave up a controlling percentage in exchange for some of Piper’s artwork.

Piper. My mind circles back to our conversation earlier in the week. Piper was lying, and she’s terrible at it. Something else is afoot, and I want to know what it is. If it’s Ben, if he’s been messing with her, I will find a way to rip his entrails out through his anus. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Finley continues. “This way, we can open and run quick camp sessions before next summer as a way to ease into it and work out any kinks.”

“It’s a good idea.”

“Great. I’ll iron out the details and send something to you by the end of the week.” She stays on the open line, and I wait for her to end the conversation.

I tap my fingers on the desk. “If that’s all—”

“Hang on a sec. Archer wants to talk to you.”

“Fine.” I recline back in the chair and wait.

There’s murmuring and a noise that sound suspiciously like lips meeting before the phone changes hands.

“When are you coming to visit?” Archer asks, forgoing any greeting.

“You mean have an in-person meeting with Finley regarding the ongoing status of our project? I don’t see a need.”


Tags: Mary Frame Romance