Page 21 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)
Roy smirks at me, clearly amused by the show Krista is putting on. I give him a quick, pointed glare—one that only he can see—and he softly chuckles under his breath.
“We’re good, Krista. Thank you. Shut the door behind you, please,” Roy answers for us.
Once Krista leaves, Roy leans back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.
That stance used to intimidate me, especially in the early years.
I was a fresh-faced architect straight out of college when I started mentoring under Roy.
I might not have known what the hell I was doing, but I made up for it in passion and pure drive.
Over the years, I earned my place as a principal at the firm, and earned Roy’s respect alongside.
These days, I don’t worry about keeping my back ramrod straight around him or wasting time with formalities like “yes sirs” and handshakes. Now, it’s first-name basis, getting drunk together at happy hour, and having the comfort and confidence to share with him my aspirations outside of this firm.
“First things first. How’s Tia doing?”
A sharp ache pangs in the middle of my chest where my heart used to be. It’s currently in her hands, a thousand miles away, with no guarantees I’m getting it back.
“She’s okay. Her family means the most to her, so this news definitely cut deep. I’m glad she’s taking the time off.”
Even though I miss the ever loving shit out of her.
He hums, making himself more comfortable by propping his feet up on his desk.
“I’ll get Valerie to put together a wellness basket for her. Do you think you can coordinate? You can let Valerie know her favorites: snacks, drinks, whatever else. If anyone would know, it’s you,” he jokes.
The tips of my ears flame hearing Roy admit I’d know all these things about Tia.
And maybe a little over the fact that I slept with his receptionist.
But he’s absolutely right. I know everything about her, and it’s killing me that I want to know so much more than just her favorite things. I want to know things best friends shouldn’t want to know.
Like the noises I could coax out of her while my head is between her legs, or the faces she’d make when I’d bring her close to the edge.
I push down any depraved thoughts surfacing to the forefront of my mind before I get a semi in front of my boss.
“Sounds good. I’ll do that. T will love it.”
He nods, then leans forward from his chair, resting on his elbows.
“So, let’s talk about your personal project.
I’ve got a few contacts for you for builders in the Austin area, plus San Francisco.
The Austin guys you met once when I had that development going in Round Rock.
Remember Lincoln from Hill Country Homes?
Took him for dinner at that one restaurant where the waitress spilled water on your lap? He’d be your guy.”
Yeah, I remember, alright. Because I took her home and had my way with her.
Thinking back to that makes my stomach sour, a wave of nausea rolling through me. Just the thought of me sleeping with another woman has me literally sick.
Tia got me so fucked up.
“Lincoln’s a good guy. What’s my other option?”
“The guys out of California I’ve worked with before.
Solid, reliable, and they can more than follow through on making your vision come to life.
My son graduated with their senior builder, Sean.
I went ahead and emailed you all their contacts.
All vetted by me, so you should be good to go when you’re ready to make your decision. ”
A surge of excitement breathes some life back into me, more than I’ve felt in days. My dream home has been in the works for a long time, and bringing it up to Roy last Fall made it more real than just a sketch on graph paper sitting in my condo.
Roy knew when I brought up my plans to build out my home, there was a chance I’d leave the firm. Tia knew it, too.
Looking back, Tia and I never really went deeper in conversation about where we’d both want to settle one day. They were mostly surface level, like if we’d end up in Texas or California. One minute I want to stay here in Austin, the next has me heeding the call to go back home to the valley.
The answer isn’t clear. Another layer of confusion to disrupt my fucked-up brain today. But I’m grateful to Roy, smiling at him with an outstretched hand.
“Thank you, Roy. This means a lot. I have a lot to consider and couldn’t make this decision without your help.”
He flashes a full-toothed smile. It’s warm and inviting, not at all the cutthroat persona he parades in front of stakeholders and underperforming employees.
Standing here with Roy’s hand firmly clasped around my palm, I think back to that bright-eyed architect.
I’ve come a long way under Roy’s wing—and if there’s one ounce of positivity today, it’s an appreciation for how far I’ve come in this career.
“You got it, Harper. See you tonight for drinks, yeah? God knows we need it after the day we’re having, eh?”
You got that right, boss.
“I’ll be there.”
I’m already counting down the hours until I can drown this mess in whiskey and get her out of my head.
Once and for all.