“Easy for you to say,” he said, reining back in the emotions. “But it’s much harder for those of us who don’t attract people all that easily.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I’m having a day at home. It’s just been a little bit too rough lately.”
“Right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”
“Actually, I’ve been ordered to stay home,” she said, “whether I like it or not. But I’m finding that I do like it.”
“Interesting. The detective again?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Something is going on between the two of you, isn’t there?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m just catching up on paperwork and taking a bit of a breather.”
“You definitely need it,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. I promised. I did say I’d see her, and I will keep my promise,” she said. “I will look at your model. But you have to understand that if it’s a no, it’s a no. And I can’t keep her just because your relationship might depend on it.”
“I know,” he said. “It sucks.”
“Then why is your relationship on the rocks over it? She didn’t know who you were before, did she?”
He sighed. “We’ve been off and on for a while, and then, you know, after my accident, I didn’t know what to do, and I took the wrong path to get back.”
“I know it’s been tough for you, Frankie,” she said, “but you’re doing so much better.”
“I know.” His voice held a slightly forced strength. “I just thought, you know, if there was one thing I could do to help her for having been at my side all this time …”
“I get it,” she said, “but that can’t be based on the decision that I make.”
“I know,” he said. “I promise. I’ll back off.”
She chuckled. “And I already made a promise I would look at her, so don’t worry about it.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” And he hung up.
She brought out the pictures of his lover, going through them. Frankie had been in a car accident a few months ago, maybe eight months ago. He’d struggled with some of his recovery from it.
“I am at loose ends,” she whispered to herself. It was a stolen day and a gift in itself, but it felt odd. Like she was playing hooky.
Just then Anita called. “Hey,” she said. “I’ve got a couple signatures I need from you.”
“You want to send them over?” Cayce asked.
“Or I could run them up,” Anita said. “It’s probably faster if I just bring them to you.”
“Maybe, if you’re up for a walk,” she said.
“I am,” she said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
When a knock came at Cayce’s door ten minutes later, she looked up, having finally gotten into some of her invoices. She hopped from her chair, walked to the front door, checking the peephole. There was the guard, and there was Anita, flirting with him. Cayce opened her door with a smile.
Anita stepped inside. “Wow,” she said. “If you have to have a gilded cage, that’s one hell of a guard to have around you.”
“Well, you’re single and looking for somebody new, so maybe he is too,” she said, to her longtime assistant and friend.
“I doubt it,” she said, “I’m still reeling from the rebuff from Frankie.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said. “You need to move on.”
“I know,” she said, “but I just—” And she stopped talking. After a moment, she shrugged. “I know you’ve heard it all before.”
“So, what are we looking at?” Cayce asked.
Anita held out the folder in her hand. “This.” It was a stack of papers.
She walked over, placed them on her desk, and threw herself down onto the seat.
“Why don’t you just work from here all the time?” Anita asked. “It’s beautiful.”
“If I thought I could, I would,” she said, “but I’ve got to keep a gallery to exhibit my work, which takes up a ton of space, and I may as well have my little office tucked in a corner there anyway.”
“I wonder if you really need two offices,” Anita said. “I could come here and work.”
“But I think it is smart to have some separation between home and work,” she said, “so I don’t know that I want to do that.”
“Makes sense,” Anita said.
“I agree.” And she grinned. As she picked up the invoices, she looked at them. “Man, some of this stuff is just getting so much more expensive.”
“The paint came in a lot higher. We had to use a new supplier because the last one had that weird overlook to the paint you didn’t like.”
She nodded. “Yes. So, it’s almost 20 percent higher. Eighteen point five percent or something like that.”
“Crap,” Anita said.
“But then”—Cayce shrugged—“it is what it is. What am I supposed to do, not use the right colors?”
“Right. Not much to be done about it anyway. So just do what you do,” she said.
The two women sat going over each of the invoices. They were swinging their feet as they concentrated.
“Did Frankie come by here at all today?” Anita asked her boss.
She was working on the invoices, so wasn’t thinking about it. When she looked up, she said, “No, I just talked to him on the phone.” She caught the same disappointed look on her friend’s expression. “Remember. You have to let it go.”
“I don’t want to,” Anita said, getting to her feet. She stormed around the small office space. “I just can’t stop thinking about him.”
“He’s moved on,” she said.
“I know that,” she said, “and it’s just devastating that he has.”
“But he has to. It didn’t work out between you and he’s trying to get his life back again.”
“That damned accident messed him up,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Cayce said patiently. She finally finished signing everything, handed Anita the folder, and said, “Thanks for bringing it over.”
Anita hopped to her feet again, having just sat back down. “What about lunch? Are you going to eat lunch?”
“I had a big breakfast,” she said, “so I don’t know. Maybe just a
