Savage Ending (Savage Trilogy 4)

The offices are upstairs and to the left, just past a giant dinosaur and several smaller ancient reptiles, and it’s not long until I’m standing at Robin’s office door. I peek inside her small but cozy office. Robin is indeed sitting behind her desk where it faces a wall, her gaze intently on a document, while bookshelves line the wall behind her.

I knock on the doorframe and her gaze jerks up and to me. She instantly pops to her feet. “You’re here?! I’m so excited. Are you excited?” She motions to my dress and then hers, which is also emerald green, and laughs. “This is how on the same page we are. This was meant to be.” She pats the arm of the guest chair next to her.

“It certainly seems that way,” I agree as we both sit down. “I wanted this project in a bad way and you just never gave up.”

“Honestly, I’m ashamed to tell you this, but I really had. Kirk called rather out of the blue and in a matter of days, here we are. As soon as I fax him your signed contract, he’s giving us five million dollars.” She slides the contract in front of me. “It’s the exact contract you were ready to sign before the prior financing fell apart.”

Yet another uneasy feeling slides down my spine and settles in my belly. “I’m curious. How did Kirk find out about the project?”

“Lucky us. He knows the prior investor who backed out. It just came together, as I said, like magic.”

I’m not sure why this situation is bothering me, other than of course, his demand for my involvement. But he is spending five million dollars. Perhaps it’s just a power play, him flexing a muscle to show he’s in control. Maybe this is just the beginning.

“Is he planning to be involved on a day-to-day basis?”

“He’s actually leaving town tonight, just as soon as we get your contract signed.”

This should make me feel better. It doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I shut her door.

“Oh God,” she says. “You’re backing out. Tell me you’re not backing out.”

“Not backing out, just treading forward with caution. Kirk was a little inappropriate last night. And he tried to hold me prisoner. He told me that if I didn’t design his personal home, he wouldn’t give you the money.”

“Oh my. Oh no. Did you agree?”

“No. I don’t do residential work and I don’t intend to start for Kirk. I politely declined. I just need to know you can be the buffer between me and him.”

“Of course I can, but I’m not sure what to do. I can’t have someone working for the museum being sexually harassed.”

“I’m not going down that rabbit hole,” I assure her. “And I don’t want your team, or the many contractors who will make a living off this, to suffer. I’d just like to limit my contact with Kirk.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I pick up the pen on the desk and flip to the signature page. “I’m passionate about this project.” I sign the contract.

“Why am I not as excited as I was a few minutes ago?” she asks.

“Be excited. I am. But now I need to go. As you know, I have my final fitting.”

“No lunch?”

“Right before I squeeze everything into that dress? Ah no. But we will have plenty of lunches coming up.”

I stand and she follows me to my feet. “Thank you for coming so close to your wedding.”

“You’ll be there, right? I sent you an invitation.”

“I will,” she says. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Me either,” I joke.

We hug and I depart. I’ve made it to the giant dinosaur again when Kirk appears in my line of sight. My heart races and I have a moment where I consider hiding behind the dinosaur, but it’s silly and ridiculous. I keep my pace and once we’re standing in front of each other, he offers me his hand. I resist touching him, but force myself to accept his hand.

“Good to see you, again,” he says, holding onto me a little too long. “I hope this means you signed the contract.”

“I did,” I say. “I’m thrilled you all had confidence in me.”

“Your work is stunning,” he assures me. “Enough so that I tried to bribe you to design my home, but I liked your backbone. That means you won’t be convinced to deviate from what you believe will make this investment beautiful.”

I blink, surprised by his reply. He was testing me? That’s the gist, I think. “I’m the daughter of not one, but two military parents. I was taught to fight in every possible way.” It’s out before I can stop it, a warning that I am trained. I am capable of fighting back.

His eyes narrow, and there is a slight lift to the corners of his mouth that I cannot quite call a smile. More a smirk, I think.