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The Amendment (The Contract 2)

Page 11

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“Sleep for a bit, sweetheart.”

She snuggled closer. “I love you, Richard.”

I held her tighter.

“With all my heart, Katy.”4RichardThe next morning, I was still high from the evening with my wife. We had slept for a while, then I had made love to her again before we drove home in the early hours of the morning, dawn beginning to break as we arrived home. We snuck into the house like a couple of kids worried about being caught breaking curfew by their parents, and we tiptoed upstairs. Our girls were sleeping, safe and sound, and Mrs. Thomas snored away in the guest room, the monitor beside her blinking and ready to alert her should the girls need her.

I tucked Katy into our bed and went for a run. As I pounded the pavement through our quiet neighborhood, I contemplated my life over the past few years. How it had changed. How I had changed. Contentment and happiness were two emotions I never expected to find in this life. Love was another one.

Katy gave them all to me.

Her gentleness, the sweetness that resided in her soul, had transformed the terse, emotionless man I had been into a person I barely recognized—and respected a lot more than the person I had been. When I looked in the mirror, I liked my reflection. I no longer saw a bitter, empty, and jaded man. Now I was a husband, father, friend. I loved and nurtured those around me, and it was returned to me tenfold.

Five years ago, if I had been told this would be my life today, I would have laughed loudly at the absurd idea of it all.

Now, I was grateful and unable to fathom life any other way.

I showered, filled my travel mug with coffee, kissed a still-sleeping Katy goodbye, and headed into the office. I had a busy day ahead of me, including plans to go over for my new office space. Graham insisted it be remodeled to suit me, and I was excited to see the drawings. I knew it would be in keeping with the understated elegance of the building in general, but it would be brighter and laid out differently from what Terence had liked. He was older and preferred dim lighting and heavy furniture. My space needed to be open, with lots of room for campaign ideas I liked to have access to. A smaller desk. More comfortable, modern furniture. I had discussed it with the designer Graham liked, and she was coming in today to show me her sketches.

I sipped my coffee and looked over my day. I had a few meetings with clients, a new potential one in Toronto that Amy had set up a phone conference with, and I had a campaign I needed to finish. I pulled up the files on my computer to study the concepts. The client was proving to be hard to nail down, but I thought I had finally crafted the right images and words. I worked for a while, tweaking and adjusting, saved the file, and sent it to print.

My phone rang and I hit speaker, settling back into my chair with a grin.

“Mad Dog.”

Maddox Riley of BAM, and one of my closest friends, chuckled. “I heard there were celebrations happening in BC. I wanted to call and say congrats on the promotion.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Were you surprised?”

“Totally. I never saw it coming.”

“You deserve it, although Bent thinks you should turn it down and come here.”

Bentley Ridge was the owner of BAM—our most successful client in Toronto and now completely under my jurisdiction. He often told me I had a job with him any time I wanted one. It was a standing joke between us since he knew I would never leave The Gavin Group.

“Tell Bentley to dream on. Besides—he gets the best of both worlds. He has Becca there, and I’m still overseeing the account,” I pointed out. “He gets me without the pay grade.”

“Or the ego,” Maddox teased.

“Whatever.”

He snickered. “How’s Katy? She must be excited.”

“She is. We went out to dinner last night to celebrate. I think she’s planning something this weekend.”

“Of course she is. Your wife is awesome that way.”

“Yep. How is Dee? Still loving the condo?”

“She’s great. The condo is perfect. We love it.”

My office door opened, and a young guy sauntered in. Tall, lean, and dressed in an expensive suit, he had his hands stuffed into his pockets as he walked around, looking at my shelves.

“Hold up a sec,” I said into the phone.

“Can I help you?” I asked the stranger with a glare.

“Nope, I’m good. I’ll wait until you’re finished.”

“Is Amy not at her desk?”

“I think she’s in the file room.”

“Do we have an appointment?”

His smirk was wide. “Nope.” He flung himself into a guest chair, crossing his legs and pulling out his phone. “We’re good, man.”



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