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“I can take a call with them either on the ride back or around four,” I sighed. “But it will have to be on the phone.”
“I will reach out,” Stephen said. “Typing them a message now. And… sent.”
“How are things going with the commission?” I asked. “Any word on what is happening with the Mayor’s next proclamation on high-speed rail?”
“The Prince Consort’s office reached out and said they are transferring us to a new patron. The Queen is expected to rely more on her husband for diplomatic duties. Everyone expects he’s knocked her up again. No idea who will be appointed, but when I know more, I will say.”
“I sort of hope it’s not Odette,” I said aloud.
“Oh, is there a problem with her?”
I winced. “Not quite.”
Nope. No problems… just me with my entire hand in her pussy last night.
“Oh, there we are. They just responded. It will be this morning. I will ping you when it’s time.”
“Great,” I said. “I will be available.”
“You sound relatively chipper, given the eventful evening,” Stephen said.
“I had good company.”
“I will not ask anymore.” Stephen remained strait-laced as ever.
“However, can you pencil in a free evening tomorrow night?” I asked. “I would like to have plans.”
38
PLANS
ODETTE
Iwasn’t sure what we were yet. Wyatt had given me so much in one evening to digest. The next day, we were back to business. Apart from a quick kiss in the car while dropping me off, we had little more to do with one another. He took a work call. I filtered through emails. I was sore—not from our clandestine rendezvous, unfortunately. A car rolling into a ditch—even slowly—can make one very achy.
Wyatt rifled through his briefcase. “Uh-huh, yes. We see eye-to-eye.”
He sat back up, handing me a bottle of pills. Covering the receiver, he whispered, “Take two. It will help with the shoulder pain.”
“Oh, thanks,” I mouthed.
I grabbed water from the seat’s back pocket and swallowed two pills. They were an anti-inflammatory, but I hoped they would work. I could barely bend my neck with a full range of motion. I didn’t know how Wyatt was functional while I wassobroken.
He hung up and looked over. “You looked uncomfortable. I know I’m sore.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“It’s okay to say you feel like shit, Odie.” Wyatt’s face was kind.
“Okay, I feel like shit,” I laughed.
“You never swear.”
“Guilt or something like it, Wyatt. You bring pain meds with you?”
“One, see how you are after thirty-five, Odette. Two, I cannot function with a headache and a crying child. I can only eliminate one factor, so I prepare for it.”
“Thanks either way.”