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Gage glanced from me to the kids, and I realized I hadn’t even introduced them.

“Kids, this is Mr. Griffen. Mr. Griffen, this is Cora and Andrew.”

Cora looked up at me, confused. “I thought you told Auntie Mia his name was Mr. Grumpy Pants?”

Ground, if you could swallow me up now, that would begreat.

Mr. Griffen leaned forward in his chair, eye level with Cora. “Only my employees call me Mr. Grumpy Pants. You can call me Gage.”

I raised my eyebrows. Was my kid really getting to see the sweet side of Mr. Grumpy Pants Griffen? I mean she was cute, but comeon.

Andrew said, “Can I draw you something, Gage?”

Gage tapped his smooth chin. “Do you know what a windmill looks like?”

Andrew nodded.

“And cows?”

Again, Andrew nodded. He always drew what he saw on our trips between Austin and Dallas, and that, of course, included plenty of farmland.

“Can you draw me a pasture with a windmill and cows around it?” Gage asked. “That would make my day.”

Make my day?Who was this man, and what had he done with Mr. Grumpy Pants?

Andrew smiled. “Okay.” He looked around at the table. “Is there another chair for me?”

And you know what this man did? He got up from his chair and said, “Take mine.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “We brought a blanket in the bag so they can hang on the floor.”

His eyes traveled from Andrew to Cora, now sharing his cushy desk chair that looked so out of place in this room. Even the folding chairs had been removed after that first meeting. Then he met my gaze. “Your children deserve better than the floor, Farrah.”

I was speechless. Thoughtless too.

“Excuse me,” he said, picking up his phone. “I have a call to make to ‘Auntie Mia.’”

I had no idea what was coming as he left the office. For all I knew, he could be calling Mia to have Shantel bring over the paperwork to fire me. If paperwork was required. I’d been out of the workforce forever and had never been fired before. Unless you count that time I got caught making out with my high school boyfriend at the city pool after hours and my boss invited me not to come back the next year.

If I still had a job, I needed to get started on ironing out the details of the flooring with Griffen Industries’ Finance Department. So I set Cora up with the iPad, letting her watch one of her favorite shows with unicorn headphones over her ears. Andrew continued drawing, lost in his art.

Then I got out my computer and phone, calling Griffen Industries’ finance guy, Benjamin. I kid you not, the guy works with money with a name like that.

“Hey, Benjamin,” I said when he answered, and we got to work. He trained me over a screen share on how to submit a purchase order and told me that Mia would be bringing a company credit card with my name on it that I could use on smaller purchases. And the “smaller purchases” he was talking about? Anything under ten thousand dollars.

The resources at my fingertips were enough to make me think I was in designer heaven.

I wondered if I’d ever have another chance to design something so luxurious when this was done.

I’d just gotten off the call with Benjamin when the door opened. A man in a moving company uniform came in carrying three beanbag chairs and a pile of folded blankets. Behind him, another mover brought in three extra chairs, stacked together. Behind them, Mia had a massive clear tote full of toys, from Barbie dolls to action figures. And then Gage Griffen himself came in the room carrying what looked like a bright red briefcase, an easel stand, and a massive sketchbook.

My. Jaw. Dropped.

“Presents!” Cora cried, much less stunned than me.

Andrew came around the table, squeezing me around my middle. “Mom! Your work is the coolest!” He went back, taking his picture from the table. “Gage! I’m done with your drawing.”

“Slow down,” I said, “his hands are full.”