Swear (Landry Family #4)(3)
He sighs, his irritation as thick as mine. "And I'm the CEO of Landry Holdings, which owns Landry Security. So, in a way, I'm your boss."
"Apologize to Mallory for me."
"Why?"
"And Mom. Tell her I'm sorry."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm going to kick your ass."
He laughs. I don't.
"There's already been a deposit paid. Just do the review and then if you really don't want to do it, I'll figure it out. But I need you to do this for me."
I glance at the building again. There is black paper hung so you can't see in, but white Christmas lights outline the windows from the inside. Next to the door, there's a sign with "CLOSED" written in red.
"Graham, this is such a waste of my time."
"Maybe. Possibly. Probably," he chuckles. "But I've committed and I need you to follow through."
"You need committed," I mutter.
"Just do it for heaven's sake."
"Fine," I growl, opening the door of my truck and stepping out on the street. Locking up behind me, I stride through the two lanes of traffic to the sidewalk in front of Halcyon.
The bakery next door has its door propped open and the smell of cinnamon rolls takes away some, but not all, of my irritation.
"I'm here," I let him know. "And when I'm done, I'm coming for you."
"I'll be waiting."
"You should run. It's gonna hurt, brother."
"I'll try to prepare myself."
Rolling my eyes, I end the call and slip the phone back into my pocket. My palm pressed on the bright white door, I give it a gentle shove.
Ellie
"DO WE WANT A POP-UP when someone logs onto the website? Or just a tab at the bottom for them to sign up for the newsletter?" Violet Schaffer looks at me over the top of her computer, playing with the tail of her long, red braid. "I prefer the tab. The pop-ups stress me out, although research says they're effective."
"Research also suggests that anti-aging creams reduce fine lines and wrinkles," I point out. "I still have crow's feet."
"You do not," she laughs.
"Oh, I do too. But it's fine. I'll just continue to wear bright lipstick and low cut shirts to divert attention away from my eyes."
"Speaking of your cleavage, did the guy from the bistro call you last night?"
"Yup," I say cheerfully, examining some sunglasses we just got in. "I hit the trusty FU button. Right to voicemail he went."
Violet hangs her head, her braid swishing on the tabletop. "Why?"
"Meh," I shrug.
"Meh?" She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. "What more could you possibly want? He was very good-looking, had a good job from what we could overhear, smelled fantastic, and I so kindly gave him your number and not mine."
"Only because you have had two good weeks of screwing Jonas."
"Your point?"
"That doesn't make Bistro Guy any less meh to me."
She flashes me another look, one that says I'm too picky, but I ignore it. We've been over this too many times to count and it always ends up the same way-her confused and me frustrated.
So what if I have a laundry list of stipulations a man must meet to even spark my interest? That doesn't make me a bad person. It doesn't even make me difficult. It makes me smart.
It's not me that keeps getting burned by men over and over. Yes, I got roasted once. Hurt so badly that I didn't think I'd survive . . . but I did. And like all the songs say, I'm stronger for it. I'm even thankful for it. There's no way I'd be the me I am without having had my heart smashed from the start.
"Maybe all those things don't add up to the homerun you think they do," I suggest.
"Maybe you'll never know if you FU him." A grin dances across her lips. "I'd have FU'd him in a much more gymnastic way."
"I'm sure you would've," I laugh.
We go back to the tasks at hand, Violet working on Halcyon's website and me sorting through shipments of inventory for our new shop. Vi is the brains behind the operation with her business degree. I'm the sales specialist with my major in marketing. Our store is a little shop of affordable, stylish, and practical items for women. It's not just clothes, but accessories, lifestyle items, and fun trinkets. The best part about our business model is that a percentage of every purchase goes to local charities, including Shelters for Savannah, the one closest to my heart.
The grin on my face that's ever-present when I'm inside this building is pasted on my lips. I've never had something that makes me want to get up in the morning and just get after it before now. This isn't just a job to me. It's the start of a new life, one that I worked my tail off for.