I’m in my living room, taking off my shoes, when Trent calls.
“Hi,” I say. “I thought you might call earlier today.”
“Well, I knew you’d be busy all day,” he says. “I didn’t want to take you away from your responsibilities.”
“That was very considerate of you.”
“Do I get points for that?”
I stretch, my back popping deliciously. “You’re already up in the triple digits on the board. I don’t think you need to worry about scoring points any time soon.”
“I don’t know about that,” he says, “I like to keep my leads. How was your day?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” I reply and tell him about my conversation with LaTisha Gordon.
“That’s pretty fantastic news,” he says when I have finished my story. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer girl.”
“Flatterer.”
“Again, I just call them like I see them.”
“I just don’t understand how someone like Monroe doesn’t have a whole platoon of people around him for things like this all the time, though.”
“It’s not so strange. Monroe’s what you might call fickle.”
“Don’t tell me you know him!”
He laughs. “Hardly. Unlike yours truly, Monroe spends a great deal of time jet-setting around the world and rubbing elbows with other members of the Fortune 500 club. I know of him, but I’ve never met the man personally. So I’ve heard things.”
“Like that he’s…what did you call him? Fickle?”
“I guess that’s the word. It’s probably more accurate to say that he’s a huge fan of change. I hear that his personal staff changes pretty regularly. I’m not saying he fires anyone, he just reassigns them elsewhere.”
“You make it sound like government postings.”
“People like Monroe have a lot of power, and a pretty long reach. They get what they want, simple as that.”
“Kind of like you?” I say, half-jokingly.
“If you don’t remember, you turned me down on a number of occasions when I first tried to hire you.”
“Yes, but you wore me down with your persistence.”
“True, but Monroe usually only has to ask once.”
I meditate on this for a few moments.
“How do you suppose he decided on me? He could have a chef flown in from anywhere in the world, after all.”
“Give yourself some credit, Steph. You’ve got a reputation in this city. You’ve scored more than a few touchdowns, and the name you’ve made for yourself may be bigger than you know.”
“Big enough to reach Monroe’s ears?”
“I don’t see why not. He might have started looking for a chef for the day on a whim, but believe me, you are very, very noticeable.”
“More flattery.”
“Just truth. I think you should follow your friend Daniel’s advice and just accept this as a gift straight from heaven and go with it. Anyway,” Trent says, “what’s going to be on the menu?”
“Oh, god, I haven’t even had time to think about that. The reality of the situation is still sinking in. I don’t want to wait until my back’s to the wall before I get started on the plans, though.”
“Even though it’s two weeks away?”
“Especially because it’s two weeks away.”
“You’re going to be up late tonight, aren’t you?”
I make a noncommittal noise.
“Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll let you go so you can get started and then get to bed before midnight.”
“I just want you to know that this isn’t my idea of a good time when it comes to staying up late.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Admit it. You’re excited about this.”
“Okay. I’m a little excited.” I can’t pull off a cool, casual response. “I’m really excited! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
“Then get to it,” Trent says. “I know you’re going to score a slam-dunk.”
“Thanks for the faith. I guess I’ll go dribble up and down the court some.”
We hang up. I was telling the truth—as tired as I am, even if I were to go to bed right now, I know I’d be tossing and turning into the small hours of the morning. That meant one thing.
I sit down at my kitchen table, open up my laptop and get to work.
Chapter 18 - Trent
I hang up with Steph and regard the dark, silent phone in my hand.
I’m sitting on the couch in my living room, the same one where Steph and I had our first romantic encounter.
“Sir?”
I look up. It’s Curtis, standing in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“You just looked lost in thought for a moment there.”
I rub my eyes. “I suppose I was. It’s been a long day. A busy day.”
“But a good day?” Curtis ventures.
I nod. “Yes, Curtis, a good day, indeed. The days seem to be mostly good ones recently.”
“That’s good to hear, sir.”
“It’s good to be able to say.”
“If you don’t mind my opinion, sir, you’ve been overdue for good days for a long time.”
I smile. “Thank you, Curtis.”
“Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir.”
I bid him goodnight as he leaves.
I wondered how Lucas Monroe could get by without someone like Curtis in his life. Through all my ups and downs for years now, Curtis has been there, like a rock of calm reliability in a sometimes-stormy sea. I can’t imagine going through my day-to-day routine without him.
I think back over my conversation with Steph. I enjoy the back-and-forth banter we seem to have with each other. It’s surprising how comfortable I am already when I’m with her and when I talk with her on the phone.
I also wonder, and not for the first time, about the nature of my feelings for her. My post-divorce expeditions into the world of dating have been halfhearted, to say the least. I suppose I went through with the awkward experiences
