Grabbing the telephone, he placed an orderfor a burger and fries. Lance could work it off later at the gym.He sat back on the bed, his body sinking into the pillows.
He heard kids running down the hallwayoutside his room, while traffic and construction occurred outsideon the street. Lance relaxed in his soft bed besides the noise.Though accustomed to the serene sounds of Delta Heights, he couldadjust to his environment. With heavy eyelids, his head drooped tohis chin.
He shot upright at the sound of his cellringing. Groaning, he scurried to find it, only to spot it next tohim in bed. His father called again.
“Well,” his father said, with a hint ofsarcasm. “I don’t have to ask how the meeting went, do I?”
“You’ve already talked with Mr. Bramble.”
His father sighed. “I did, only to give him aheads up.”
“You didn’t think I could handle it?”
“I know what you’re capable of, Lance. I knowhow hard you work. It doesn’t go unnoticed. The deal’s in the bag.Right?”
Lance rubbed at his chin. He had to tryagain. “I think too many will lose their jobs. I think we need tofind an alternative.”
“Son, we’ve already—”
“A man shouldn’t have to worry how he’ll feedhis kids.”
“We’re in a business. We help companies sothey can turn a profit.”
“We’re also a business that deals withpeople. This is their livelihood.”
“And mine. Yours too. We can’t saveeveryone.”
Lance’s pulse quickened. “So that’s it?”
“I told you. We’re not responsible foreveryone.”
He heard a knock at the door, alerting Lancehis order had arrived. “I need to go.”
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
Lance didn’t bother to tell his fathergoodbye. He tossed his phone on the bed and answered the door.Tipping the waiter, he shut the door after placing the Do NotDisturb sign on his door handle. He made himself comfortable atthe desk table with his meal. Lance bit into his burger.
He chewed, but the flavor in his mouth didnothing to lift his spirits. A sinking sensation overwhelmed hisstomach, but he ate his meal, hoping to relieve the gnawinginside.
He called Andrea. Hearing her voice wouldhelp, but he got her voicemail. He left a message after clearinghis throat. “Hey.” Lance rubbed his forehead. “I hope you’re havinga good day. I’m heading back to Delta Heights. Let me know yourplans. Love you.” He hung up and discarded his trash.
After showering and changing for bed, hereclined against the padded headboard. He held the remote, flippingthrough the channels. Nothing struck his interest, not even thesports commentary. Perhaps he needed to sleep since it had been along day already. Then his phone rang again. Andrea had to becalling back. He answered without removing his eyes from theTV.
“Hey. I hope you’re not too busy, but Iwanted to give you an update on what I have so far.”
Lance checked the screen. “Chantelle?”
“Is this a bad time?” She asked.
“No, you’re fine. I wasn’t expecting yourcall.” He gave half a smile. “Go ahead.”
“Well… so far I have how you and Andrea metand how you proposed. I’ve included Amelia’s Foundation and howthat started.”
“So far so good.”
“I’m also including a photo of you at thetailor’s shop. Is that okay?”
Lance rubbed the back of his head. “That’sfine. What else?”
“I won’t mention June. I have it to where youand Andrea want to work together on your wedding. You don’t wanttoo many outside influences.”
He bobbed his head. “I agree. Anythingelse?”
A hmm escaped her mouth as if she werethinking. “It’s still missing something, Lance.”
“What?” He asked.
“The spark. It excites the public that you’resettling down, but I’m certain they’ll want more romance. Are thereany recent photos I can use of you and Andrea? The ones I have areprior to the proposal.”
As he suspected, it came up. The publicwanted more appearances. He hoped Andrea showed soon. They couldn’tstay apart for too long.
“I’ll get those to you as soon as I can. I’mnot a selfie guy compared to Andrea,” he said.
“Just a couple of photos I think will work.The rest can be at the wedding.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Chantelle. Iappreciate your consideration in all of this.”
“You’re welcome. How was your trip? When willyou be back?”
“The trip went well. Got some business done.I’ll be back tomorrow. I hope I’m not too jet lagged.”
“You should rest, Lance.”
“I’m getting married on top of everythingelse, Chantelle. There’s no slowing down for me.”
“I disagree. You need to take care ofyourself. You won’t be any good to anyone if you’re sick or tootired to work,” she said.
He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind as Iclose this deal.”
“Is it intense?”
“Are you asking as a reporter or afriend?”
“A friend, Lance. You know that. I still careabout you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, imaginingher soft eyes filled with an inner glow. Her voice was sweet as atune. Her eyes as deep as the desert skies. They saw through himevery time. Even when she frustrated him, he could get lost in hereyes.
His body released all tension. His heart feltfull. Lance rubbed at his throat. When did it get warm in his room?He walked over to the wall and adjusted the thermostat. “Thank you.I uh… I should get some sleep. Your notes and ideas sound great.We’ll go from there.”
“When will I get to talk to Andrea?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.”
He needed to hang up. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
***
Chantelle sat at her mother’s kitchen tablewith a cup of chamomile tea. After getting off the phone withLance, she couldn’t sleep, so herbal tea was her best bet. Shesipped the hot liquid she’d sweetened with honey. It warmed herfrom the inside and she sighed as her muscles relaxed.
Lance would be okay, although he didn’t soundtoo enthused about her notes on her article. She couldn’t help butwonder. What was it about Andrea that made him propose?
If Lance were happy, wouldn’t it show?Chantelle knew what love looked like. She saw it when her latefather kissed her mother on the cheek every morning before leavingfor work. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have a problem writinglove notes to her mother and leaving it on the table.
Chantelle had sneaked in
