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Liv had a few more errands to run, but we agreed to meet at my penthouse for supper. Sometimes it was nice to get great takeout and eat it in private without the hustle and bustle of a restaurant and all the hassle that came with the required social graces.

As soon as Liv was safely in the elevator, the door dinging closed, I got out my cell and made a call.

11

Farrah

“How’s your wife doing?” I asked Mark as we did the final walk-through for all the flooring his company had laid in the last month.

I couldn’t believe I’d been on the job only six weeks, and this hotel was already coming together in the best possible way. The sandy oak flooring looked incredible with the off-white walls and broad windows letting in the afternoon light.

“Miserable,” he said. “She’s so big she can barely get up out of a chair. She heard somewhere that eating pineapple can stimulate labor, and I’m pretty sure we’ve had pineapple in every meal for a week.”

I stopped with him in the lobby’s grand entrance. “Poor thing. You know my doctor said nipple stimulation is supposed to help.”

Mark’s cheeks quickly turned red.

“Sorry, that’s probably TMI,” I chuckled awkwardly.

“No worries.” He cleared his throat. “The floors are guaranteed for ten years under the commercial warranty, but our installation warranty is a year. If you see anything, be sure to call me as soon as you do so we can get it taken care of. After a year, the product is free, but you’ll have to cover the cost of labor for any fixes.”

I nodded. “It looks great, and I will definitely give your business card to anyone who’s looking.”

He put his hands together. “Thank you, Farrah. Means a lot.”

“Diapers are expensive,” I teased. “But the rewards you’ll get from watching them grow... that’s priceless.”

His eyes shined with anticipation as he nodded and told me goodbye.

On the walk to the front door, I thanked my lucky stars that this bruise was faded enough for makeup to cover it. The last few weeks had felt so long, caking on makeup and trying to turn my head so contractors wouldn’t see.

When I reached the conference room where Gage was busy working, he glanced up at me, his blue eyes piercing my own. “Flooring look good?”

“It’s incredible. It almost looks like a hotel now.”

“That’s progress. Where are we on everything else?” Gage was all business, had been ever since that strange Friday lunch a few weeks ago. But I had to admit I liked the sound of his voice—it was strong and masculine, commanding. Made me want to hurry up and do exactly as he asked.

“I’m meeting with a local photographer next week,” I said, “seeing if we can commission prints to fit the brand. Then I have a meeting with an artist to see if we can get complementary pieces to match.”

He nodded. “Just don’t make it too touristy.”

I raised an eyebrow. Did this man really think he knew more about my job than I did?

“Go on,” he said, either oblivious or ignoring my expression.

“The team from Kansas will be here in two weeks and stay in town for a month while they install the wall treatments in each room and behind the front desk. Bedding and all other linens have been ordered and will arrive in two months—all the finest on the market.”

Gage said, “Bedding won’t matter if we don’t have beds.”

Man, he seemed testy today. I wanted to ask him what was going on, but already knew he wouldn’t answer personal questions anyway.

“All the bedroom furniture is ordered from a company that makes very sturdy, beautiful pieces. They will also assemble it upon arrival. It will be here after the bedding, unfortunately, but it is on the schedule, Mr. Grumpy Pants—I mean, Mr. Griffen.”

His lip twitched. “The bathrooms?”

“Plumbers are coming tomorrow to begin installing the vanities, toilets, and shower fixtures. Not all items are here yet, but according to their schedule, everything should get here when they need it to keep going, if that makes sense. It will be like a game of Frogger with the work schedule and shipments. The soaker tubs are coming one piece at a time as they are produced. That’s the only part that’s iffy.”

The clearing of his throat resembled a growl. His eyes were icy as he said, “Iffy?”