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I squeezed my mom’s arm and got up, following Drew to his bedroom for what was sure to be another long night.

4

Gage

I stopped in the doorway to the conference room, stunned to see Farrah already sitting at her computer desk. Today her curly hair was down, falling past her shoulders in little ringlets. A floral button-up shirt with loose sleeves flowing around her arms.

And the smell in the room... something like coffee and wildflowers.

It reminded me of home.

Which sent this strange mix of sadness and nostalgia spinning in my chest.

I cleared my throat, announcing my presence, and she quickly looked up from her computer, then stood, knocking her desk chair to the ground. I didn’t even know that was possible to do. “Oh, hi, good morning, I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

I stepped in, picking up the chair for her. I was only a foot away, her scent heavy on my senses as I said, “First rule of business. No apologizing. There are no mistakes, only learning opportunities.”

“Sorry, you’re right—I mean... Thanks?”

I cracked a smile, but only for a second. I went to my side of the table where my laptop was already set up and charging.

“I got you coffee,” Farrah said. “I’m not sure what you like, so I got black, then also a cortado and a frappuccino. I like all of them, except for black, so you’re free to two out of three.”

“That’s not your job,” I said, confused. Why on earth was she buying coffee for me? I could afford it.

She tilted her head, sending curls over her shoulder. “I like doing nice things for people... unless you’re allergic to milk, then I guess the cortado isn’t so kind.”

“I’ll take the cortado,” I said, uncomfortable for some reason with her thinking that I had lactose intolerance.

She passed a cup my way, and I spun it in search of the logo. “Barry’s?”

“It’s my parents’ coffee shop. Dad runs it, six to two every day except Sunday.”

I took a sip, relishing the hot liquid and its rich flavor. “It’s good.”

“I think it’s the best in Texas,” she gushed. “I practically grew up working there.”

When I didn’t reply, she said, “So I have some ideas for the en suite bathrooms I wanted to run past you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Already?” She’d barely had an hour to work yesterday.

“Couldn’t get to sleep,” she said, brushing off my question. “Come look?”

I nodded, going to stand behind her. The wildflower scent was there again, and swear, it was more intoxicating than this coffee. Maybe I’d open a Barry’s in the hotel.

She had her screen open to a digital mock-up of the bathroom layout. As I scanned it over, she said, “You want it to be relaxing but not look like every other five-star hotel in the area, so we’re staying away from all white. We can’t do black either, because with kids, every spot will show. I recommend adding some color. A soft green is very soothing, but it will also go with a lot of neutrals as well.”

I tracked the design, my eyes landing on the focal piece. A large marble soaking tub. “I like the tub.”

“They’re great for kids,” she said. “I always get disappointed if I’m in a hotel without a bathtub, but this is a massive level up from a basic shower-tub combination.”

“Agreed. But marble’s a porous material. How does that work?”

“It’s actually called cultured marble—they mix limestone and resin, but it looks and feels identical.”

“Interesting.”

“Gold fixtures will blend well with the green backsplash. And shower tile shaped in half ovals will give the room some character. This gray tile job on the floor will be different enough from other hotels, but also easy to clean.”