“I’m not saying no.”
“Good. I’ll see you, probably about six again, depending.”
“Good luck in court.”
Alone, she rested her chin on her fist and thought just how much her life, her world had changed. As part of the change, she got up to call in the dogs and give them breakfast.
Chapter Twenty
Since Yoda had company, she got a spare chew bone so both would have something to gnaw on while she worked.
As they started up, her iPad greeted her with Adele’s “Lovesong.”
“It’s lust and like at the moment, thanks, Lilian.”
The music shifted almost instantly to “Crimson and Clover.”
“Okay then, Clover.” The dogs took their bones by the crackling fire—one she hadn’t started. “I’ve got to knuckle down to work. I’ve got a job to finish, two to start, and a major proposal to get going. And my mother’s coming for the weekend, so no making up time there.”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes, drew a deep breath. Then booted up her computer.
An hour in, and she would get the catering job to testing stage by midday, her phone signaled a text.
Which reminded her she had to look up the menu and text Trey.
She read the text from Bree.
This scallop and pasta dish is quick, simple, and delish. IF—listen up!—IF you don’t overcook the pasta or the scallops. Got that? Pay attention.
“I got it, I got it.” She scanned the recipe. “It doesn’t sound so simple—and you didn’t need to use all caps on don’t-overcook reminders. It’s intimidating.”
Your cook time’s about ten minutes, so don’t start it until your mom’s there and you’re ready to eat. Sometime during the day, you’re going to make some—quick, easy—beer bread.
“I am? Bread. Jesus, that’s crazy. I’m not making bread.”
But she read the instructions.
“Okay, that actually does sound easy. I can do that.”
I assume you can make a salad. If not, text me, and after I get finished mocking and judging you, I’ll send instructions. Finish off the meal with a raspberry sorbet. I could give you a recipe for that—basic—but you’ll buy this at the store so you don’t feel overloaded.
Bon appetit! Bree
It required another steadying breath.
Thank you. My mom may collapse in shock, but thank you. I do know how to make a salad—it’s a house specialty—so no mocking or judging required. I swear by all that’s holy I won’t overcook because I sense the scope of your wrath.
Much appreciated, Sonya Bree signed off with an emoji of a smiley face wearing a chef’s hat.
Sonya set the phone aside. She’d take it when she went into the village to shop. And she wouldn’t think about it until.
By midday, the catering site was ready for testing. And the dogs ready for a walk. So, she realized, was she.
The dogs bounded through and wrestled in the snow. She thought, if she looked hard enough, she could see tiny patches of anemic grass on the south side of the house.
The bounding and wrestling meant she had to mop both dogs up. They got a treat, and she got a Coke, a bowl of pretzels, and a tangerine.
At nearly four she surfaced. Cursed when testing showed her an error. After some adjustments, she ran it again.
And something that had simmered in the back of her mind on the Ryder job popped out.
“That’s good. That could be good. Bold. Fun. Movement.”
She got up, got her tools, and started a fresh mood board.
At her desk, she did some quick sketches just to give herself another visual.
Caught up, she shifted back and forth between the testing and refining her vision.
And jumped when a dog stood on either side of her wagging.
“Oh! God, it’s almost six. I didn’t mean to work this late. Sorry, boys, sorry. Let’s shut it down and go—no saying the word yet.”
After she backed up everything, shut down, she jogged downstairs with them. Since they dashed to the door, she went after them. She’d let them out, come back for a jacket.
And opened the door just as Trey started to ring the bell.
“Oh! They didn’t bark.”
“Mookie knows when it’s me. I guess this one does now, too.” He handed her a takeout bag before he gave the dogs attention. “Hi, guys. Good day for you?”
“I should’ve let them out again an hour ago, but I got involved. I just shut down. You’re still wearing a suit.”
A deep, dark gray with a pale gray shirt and a maroon-and-navy tie.