Sighing, I look out the window. “I told him to send me contracts before they signed them. I’ll have our attorney look at them and make sure we pay for them through the company.”
“I hope your siblings tell you how much they appreciate you,” she says.
“I just hope they all sign prenuptial agreements,” I laugh. “Lincoln is all ‘I’m in love and I’m not signing shit’ right now and it’s ludicrous. I like Danielle just fine. But that doesn’t mean Lincoln doesn’t need to cover his ass.”
“Assets, Graham. Cover his assets,” she corrects me. “I agree, but it’s Lincoln’s money to gamble with. I hate to say that, but it’s true. He’s a grown man.”
“Sure he is. He’ll have some grown man problems on his hands if this doesn’t work out.”
“You know, sometimes things aren’t so black and white . . .”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“It means that sometimes things get blurry. Lincoln loves Dani, Graham. If he believes in that, maybe we should too.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t. I just said it was ignorant.”
“Oh, son,” she laughs. “I need to go. I have an appointment at the salon at four. I just wanted to check in and see how you were. Think we could do lunch this weekend?”
I glance at the pile of work on the corner of my desk. “I’m still really behind, Mom. I’ll probably be in the office all weekend.”
“What if I order you over here? Pull the Mom Card? Or tempt you with a homemade coconut cream pie?”
“I’ll try. How’s that?”
“Better than no,” she sighs. “I love you, Graham. Make sure you’re taking time for you, okay?”
“Love you, Mom.”
I hang up the receiver and sit back in my chair. The hours upon hours of work I’ve been doing is starting to add up. I can feel it across the back of my shoulders, in my thighs when I stand. It’s just an accumulation of stress and rigidity that’s starting to wear me down a bit.
Swiping my coffee cup off my desk, I head to the coffee maker for a fresh cup. As I pass the door to my office, I hear Mallory’s voice on the other side. Pausing, my hand on the knob, I listen to another man’s voice. I’m not sure who it is, other than it’s not one of my brothers.
I pop open the door, my jaw pulsing, before I realize what I’m doing. Leaning on her desk is a man in a brown work uniform, a package sitting between them. Mallory is leaned away from him, rolled away from her desk a few feet.
“Excuse me?” I ask, causing them both to jump.
“Oh, Graham!” Mallory gasps, her hand flying to her chest. She reads my pressed lips correctly and stands. “Can I get you something?”
Instead of answering her, I flip my glare to the delivery man. “Are you done here?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I just had a package to drop off.”
“That looks accomplished. You can go now.”
He bolts out the door like a flash of lightning. I give Mallory one quick look before retreating to my office.
My jaw still clenched, I don’t bother to sit down. I won’t be able to sit still. I’ve run off delivery guys before, ones that try to get out of doing their job by chatting up my employees. But this time, it wasn’t about time management. It was because I was jealous.
I haven’t felt that tinge of fury in a long fucking time, and I hate it just as much now as I did back then. I forgot what it felt like to have your blood boil in such an animalistic way, that caveman desire to mark your territory. Only thing is, she’s not my territory. She’s not my anything and she can’t be. It would be like this every fucking day and everything would fall to pieces. This feeling is not what I want. It’s not what she wants, either.
I feel her behind me. The air shifts, a lavender scent rippling around the room. My body is on alert as she comes closer. I don’t have to turn around to know that.
“Graham? Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Fine,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Did you get your package?”
“No,” she says. “I got yours.”