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Who was her ex? And what did he do to Nardi to turn her against marriage?
A car door slams up ahead and someone storms toward us with angry strides.
“Stop lifting heavy things,” Nardi spits. She grabs the tent poles from my grip, swinging them wildly. I duck on instinct. Just in time too, or she would have knocked me out cold. “Get in the car, Josiah.”
Flinging a dark look at me, Nardi jumps into her vehicle.
Josiah widens his eyes in his sister’s direction as if to saysee?
I smile slightly and nod my goodbye.
The car rumbles to life and squeals out of the parking lot. My lips curl up at the dramatic way Nardi shoots into the street.
She’d probably be annoyed if she knew, but I stand by the fact that she lacks emotional regulation. Unfortunately for me, Ifind even her huffiness attractive. And though it’s sweet the way she worries about me lifting heavy things, I wish she wouldn’t. I don’t want to appear like a weak, sickly man. Especially not to her.
I turn back to head to the meeting, and my phone rings.
It’s Darrel Hastings.
I wince, having completely forgotten that I’d promised to call him after I left the cafe that day. Things have been so hectic that I haven’t had a chance to make good on that promise.
“Mr. Hastings,” I say, entering HQ through the front door.
“Sounds like I caught you at a good time.”
“Why would you say that?” I stop and lean against the receptionist’s desk. The furniture was delivered and installed. Seeing the desk, it finally feels like I’m running a company.
My elbow slides against the smooth surface of the counter. “I’m actually about to head into a meeting.”
“I guess it’snota good time then.”
A sudden, striking pain clamps around my head. I grit my teeth and the cell phone clatters to the ground. The pain leaves as quickly as it came and I straighten again, massaging my temple.
“Cullen?”
“I’m here,” I croak, scooping up the phone.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I just dropped my phone by mistake. Can I help you with something?”
“By now, you know my answer to that question.”
I laugh, but even that seems to take a toll on my chest. Though my mind is sharp as a knife and my thoughts are running at a mile a minute, my body’s slowing down. Something’s not right, but I don’t have time to go to the hospital and find out what it is.
Or more accurately, I already know what the hospital’s going to tell me and I have no desire to go another round with the exhausting, brain-fog inducing treatments.
“I won’t keep you long,” Hastings says. “My wife Sunny wanted to invite you to our farmhouse at the end of the month. No pressure. The invitation’s open if you’d like to join us.” He pauses. “Nardi will be catering.”
If I were feeling better, I’d ask him why he felt the need to mention that. But we both know that’s a draw for me. Whether I like it or not.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Alright then.” Hastings hesitates as if he wants to say something else, but he must change his mind, because he hangs up.
I brace both hands on the counter and take a few calming breaths, hoping that whatever that mysterious and powerful pain was, it’s gone now.
A door to the back bangs open. The construction crew finished with the last of the renovations early this morning, so it can’t be any of the workers. But everyone else should be in the meeting?