"When does that happen?” she asked, feeling the window of opportunity narrowing.
"We’re meeting later today,” he replied. As if he read her mind, he added, “Sometimes we sit on things overnight, so I’ll call you by tomorrow with an answer either way.”
She nodded, gathering her things. “Do I get to make a closing argument in my favor?”
He tipped his head, considering her, as he got to his feet. “Do you feel you need to?”
“That depends on how inclined you are to coach me,” she said as she stood.
“How inclined are you to take my coaching?” he asked.
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you actually want an answer?” She faced him. In court, sometimes you had to stick to pure facts, and sometimes you needed to play up the emotions. Her unerring sense told her complete emotional honesty was the way to go here. “This is like a boogeyman under my bed. I need to banish it, but I haven’t figured out how to do that on my own, so I’m asking for help.”
Jamie studied her, compassion in his gaze. “What will you do once you conquer this fear?”
She shrugged, trying for a casual smile, but on the inside her stomach clenched. “I hope we get to find out.”
Three
If Lottie had to pick a word for her life, she’d useblessed. She walked into the Winners Inc. meeting room, steno pad in hand, and plopped herself into her usual seat, feeling all the gratitude.
Meeting room. It was like no meeting room she’d ever been in as a former secretary. It was “posh,” as Jamie liked to describe it, with luscious textures and deep colors. There was a table and chairs, but only because Rachel had insisted on it. If Jamie had had his way, they would have had couches in here. It would have made for a cushy place to wait for the team to arrive.
The team. She sighed. Another word she loved. Who’d have thought that at eighty someone would pick her to be on their team?
Someone with good sense, obviously.
And that was what Jamie MacNiven had in spades. He’d chosen her granddaughter—thebestperson on this earth—as his bride, after all.
The two of them walked in, Jamie’s hand lovingly on her back. Rachel was laughing at something he whispered in her ear.
Lottie sighed. Because she loved seeing her grandchild so happy, yes—Rachel had been unhappy for so long—but also because oflove. It’d been a long time since she herself had felt it, so it was lovely to see someone she cared for caught in its grip.
But darn if she wasn’t a wee bit jealous too.
Not that she’d begrudge their happiness. Quite the contrary. Seeing Rachel and Jamie so deliriously happy after everything her granddaughter had gone through with her ex (the peckerwood) brought warmth to her heart.
Frankly, she wanted someone to bring warmth to her loins too.
She was eighty, but she had a lot of life left in her—and a lot of love to give. It may have been forever since she’d been with a man, but it had to be like riding a bike. She hadn’t done that in a long time either, but she knew if she hopped on, she’d be able to ride forever.
She knew whom she wanted to hop on, too—Otto Waring.
She’d known Otto a long time; he was a regular at her neighborhood bar and one of Chicago’s most beloved sports columnists. But it’d only been recently that she’d seen him for the hunk that he was.
Before she hadn’t had anything to offer him. Why would he want a washed-out old woman who’d never been anything other than a secretary and a mother (and not a very good one, at that)? Otto was an incredible artist, impeccably summing up people with just a few strokes of his pen. She’d figured he could find someone more interesting.
But she was seeing life—and herself—in a new way. She meant it when she said she had a lot to offer still.
Heck, they could have another twenty years together.
Twenty years of sexy bliss, or twenty years of lonely solitude? She knew which she wanted to sign up for.
And she wanted to see if he might want to sign up for it too.
Since she’d started working here, she thought she might have a chance to win him over. She was no longer an old woman who prowled the lonely hallways of her old house. She had things to talk about again—things that didn’t include her various aches and pains.
She was a living, active person again.