Page 14 of Reece & Holden (Gomillion High Reunion #6)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Reece

I wake up early on Monday morning, finally feeling like my sleep patterns are back to normal.

I had a great day yesterday with Mom. Mostly it was just the two of us as Marina wanted to rest. We took a drive out toward the Yellow Branch Falls and walked and talked, catching up on what’s been happening over the last few years.

When we got back to the house Marina had cooked dinner, which of course was delicious.

She’d also baked chocolate pinwheel cookies, which are one of Mac’s favorites and definitely in my top five.

I didn’t tell my mom about the main reason for being here, but I want to soon. Maybe when we get another day together.

I decide to catch up with work this morning, as I know they have a shopping trip planned. A trip I declined, not least because they’re going to the yarn store and the next time I see Holden I don’t want my mom to be present.

I’m not sure what steps I want to take next with Holden.

I was surprised when he agreed to dance with me.

It hadn’t been my intention when I walked up to him, but in the moment it seemed like the right thing to do.

I enjoyed dancing with him. A lot. It felt good to be close, just moving, twirling him round.

I thought I caught a look of delight on his face more than once, and I was disappointed but not surprised when he refused the next dance—the slow number.

Since then my emotions have been all over the place, trying to work out what he thinks of me.

There’s a part of me that wants to tell him the truth, but I don’t know if that’s wise.

Every time we take a step forward he takes two steps back, so I don’t think I could cope right now with him knowing everything.

Not yet. Not until I can tell if he likes me or will even listen to me.

I make myself a coffee while my laptop starts up, taking advantage of the silence before anyone else awakes.

Nolan has a large project he’s overseeing: the building of an equestrian center, as well as the alterations to a stable block to develop it into a restaurant and venue.

He has our junior director Hartley shadowing him, as he’s an expert in old buildings, which neither of us are.

We also have some smaller ongoing projects.

I recently took one for a new client, an American billionaire and venture capitalist who wants to settle permanently in Oxfordshire.

He’s recently bought an old house, almost a castle really, and he wants it remodeled without losing the ancient feel of the place.

We’re waiting on a survey which was due at the end of last week.

Once I have my coffee I sit at the dining table and open my emails. I blink at my screen and cold dread seeps through me as I see email after email from my client, Chase Knightly.

I take a deep breath and then a mouthful of coffee as I’m not nearly caffeinated enough to deal with whatever this will be.

I scroll through and open his first email, and I check the date—it’s from today—and I feel a small sense of relief that he hasn’t been flooding my inbox all weekend.

But with the UK five hours ahead, there’s still plenty of them.

The first one isn’t too bad, it’s a query about something in the report.

I read each one in turn, and they’re all queries, as if he fired off a new email after reading each section.

But the tone of them becomes increasingly alarming. The last one just simply says:

Did I just buy a very expensive pile of bricks?!!!

I quickly find the email sent from the surveyor, which actually only came in this morning, and I make a mental note of thanks again that he didn’t read this days ago.

I scan through the report and when I’ve finished I sit back, because in reality I don’t know the answer to the question.

But I can see why he’s extremely concerned.

I need to talk to him, but he’s not the first person I call, as I need to put a few things in place beforehand.

My first call is to Nolan to make sure he knows what’s going on. He’s my business partner, so he has a right to know everything.

“Do you want me to handle it?” he asks, though I know he already has his hands full with his own project, so I decline his offer but ask if Hartley’s available tomorrow.

Next I call Hartley and tell him I’m sending him the report to read, and we make arrangements for the next day.

I also call the surveyor while loading up the airline’s website.

You don’t keep billionaire clients by not being available when they need you, so I need to be on the next flight back to the UK.

Once I have everything in place I call Chase.

He made his money in finance and is very good at making shrewd investments.

Even though he wanted a unique and exclusive property, I know he’ll be looking at it as an investment and an asset, so right now he’s going to be worrying that he’s made a bad choice, which would not only hurt his pride on a personal level, but could also reflect badly on his business.

“Chase, it’s Reece Fisher,” I say as soon as he answers, and I hear him blow out a breath.

“Thank god. Please tell me I didn’t just make the worst decision of my life?”

“I’m sure you haven’t.” I’m not going to lie to him, but I do want to reassure him somehow.

“Technical reports are hard to fully understand. So I think we need to hear it from the surveyor, in front of what he’s referring to.

I’ll also have our building expert on hand.

How about ten a.m. tomorrow so you can ask anything you want? ”

“Hold on.” The phone goes silent for a short while before he speaks again. “Okay, yes, I can make ten o’clock.”

“Great, I’ll see you then, and then we can get all the facts.” I go to ring off.

“Wait. Where are you?” he asks.

“South Carolina.”

“But—”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Chase.” I ring off before he can say anything else. I need to go and pack; I have twenty hours to get to Oxfordshire.

I run upstairs to pack.

“What’s going on?” my mom asks, standing in the doorway to my room. I quickly fill her in on what’s happening.

“I’ll be back by Friday,” I add when she looks disappointed.

I’d planned to stay another couple of weeks, and there’s no way I’m missing out on that.

Not only do I want to spend more time with my mom, but I can’t leave things as they are with Holden.

But maybe giving him a few days’ space wouldn’t be a bad idea.

At least that’s what I convince myself as I hug my mom and Marina goodbye and drive toward the airport.