The Contract (The Contract 1)
“Two spring rolls”—I looked at Jenna—“or three?”
“Four,” Jenna replied. “Adrian will be here in a while. I’m sure he’ll be hungry, too.”
“I’ll get another bottle of wine.”
Jenna shrugged. “Or two.”
Chuckling, I squeezed her shoulders as I went past. “Good to see you, Jenna.”
She dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Whatever.”
I caught her sly wink to Katy, however.
They started chatting again. I stopped in the hallway listening. Katy’s laughter was low and happy. Jenna’s voice was its usual excited tone as she told Katy about a new art exhibit we all had to attend together. I drew in a surprisingly shaky breath and smiled. My wife had her friend back.
Katy was slowly picking up the pieces of her life, which meant mine was aligning with hers. We were creating a new life.
Together.RICHARD
JENNA BENT FORWARD, TAPPING A mock-up. “I like this one.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s flat.” I shifted through a pile of heavy stock, grabbing one near the bottom. “This one gets your attention.”
“It’s too in your face.”
“It needs to be in your face, Jenna. We’re selling fun here. It has to grab you.”
She pursed her lips, and I took the chance to take a sip of my coffee. I’d been “back” for almost three months. My relationship with all the Gavins was on solid footing, both professionally and personally. My career had never been as fulfilling as it was now.
My life with my wife was amazing. Katy brought a peace to my world I never realized I was missing or needed. She was my nucleus, and everything I did revolved around her in some way. She spent her time volunteering, and two days a week, she worked at The Gavin Group—but not for me. She assisted Laura, and the two of them made a great team. It was a win-win situation for me since I could see her in the office and still have her at home.
Jenna pushed away the mock-up with an angry snort. “I still hate it when you’re right.”
I chuckled at her indignation. Before I could speak, her phone rang. She answered, another low groan made me grin at her level of frustration.
“Fine. No, I’ll make other arrangements.” She hung up, tossing her cell phone on the table.
“Problem?”
“My car is in the shop. The part is back-ordered and won’t be here until tomorrow. Adrian is away and I need a lift home. I have to see if I can catch Dad.”
“He left for a meeting right after lunch. He said something about heading home after he was done.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll run you home.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I can swing by and pick you up tomorrow, too.”
“Dad will drive me in. You don’t have plans with Katy tonight?”
“No. In fact, she has her computer course tonight, so I’m free as a bird.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Sure. Now, let’s finish this, then I’ll take you.”The drive was pleasant and quick. Having been there many times, I didn’t need directions. Jenna, as usual, found lots to chat about, filling the time in the car with stories of looking for a new sofa.
She and Adrian lived on the edge of town in a new subdivision. It was close to the water, the homes large and set well apart. I liked the quiet, affluent look to the area.
After dropping Jenna off, I took a drive around the surrounding streets, admiring the houses and the peacefulness of the neighborhood. I slowed down, pulling to the curb in front of a house that caught my eye. The deep gray of the brick and the vivid blue trim stuck out in the area of more subdued colors. Two-storied with a huge wrap-around porch and large windows, it looked homey. What caught my eye, though, was the man pounding the For Sale sign into the ground. There was also a cylinder attached with a place to keep information sheets about the house. Without thinking, I was out of my car, walking toward him. He grinned at me when I asked for a copy.
“Those are still in the house. I need to grab them,” he replied in answer to my query. “The owners aren’t home, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Did you want a quick look?”
I looked back at the house, not at all certain why I was interested. Katy and I had never broached the subject of a house, or moving.
Except, I liked it.
“Yes, I would.”
An hour later, I was back in my car, the information sheet clutched in my hand, another appointment booked for the morning. I wanted Katy to see this place.She looked over the sheet, confused. “A house? You want a house?”
I tapped the paper. “I want this house.”
“Why? You don’t like the condo anymore?”
I had been thinking about it all evening, while I waited for her to get home. “It’s fine. I’ve always liked it. I was thinking, though, it’s not a good place in which”—I nervously scratched the back of my neck—“to bring up children.”