Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I nodded. “He’s always busy.”
“Are you related?”
“He’s my brother.”
“Oh how marvelous,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Might you put in a good word for me?”
“Of course,” I agreed. “Tell me, what is it that your company does?”
“We’re a marketing firm that works solely in support of female-owned businesses.”
I nodded. “And how do you know Michael?”
She shook her head, letting go of my hand then. “I don’t. I know Sandra. Her ex and my husband are very old friends. With the divorce, that’s been hard. Sandy and I don’t see each other as often as we’d like.”
“Normally people divide friends in a divorce, don’t they?”
She nodded. “They certainly do.”
“That’s gotta stink.”
“It certainly does, and this probably will not help at all, but, Jory, I really would love to speak to your brother.”
“And by not help at all,” I said, chuckling, “you’re supposed to be meeting Michael tonight to talk to him about your building.”
“That’s what Sandra hinted around, but I’ll be truthful and tell you I’m not all that sold on doing so,” she replied, gritting her teeth.
“And why not?”
“The buildings I’ve seen don’t say vision to me, more useful.”
“Useful is good.”
“Useful is fine. I don’t want fine. I want inspiring. I want special.”
She wasn’t going to go with my brother-in-law even if I said no. That was abundantly clear. There was also a chance she wouldn’t like Dane once she met him. That rarely happened, but every now and then, others found him pompous. Whenever he reported those events to me, I always said, no…not you. And I cackled. “Well then, let’s give Dane a call.”
She gasped and took hold of my arm tight. “Really?”
“Yes, of course. When are you available?”
“Whenever he’s available is fine with me. I’m at his disposal.”
Grinning, I called my brother. I started with the fact that she was helping women and went from there. It was a quick decision. Of course he had time.
When she whooped out her happiness, grabbing and hugging me, people around us laughed. We went and ordered drinks together after that.
Later, Sandra came and found me, and when she asked me to step outside with her, in the cold, I was surprised. Following behind, I closed the door, and when she rounded on me, I had to take a step back.
“Jory, why are you trying to derail Michael?”
Weird to be accused of something like that, but I could see that it might look like that from her perspective. “I would never do that.”
“I think you did,” she snapped, taking a step forward. “I specifically invited Gwen here to speak to Michael.”
“And I’m sorry about that,” I told her, taking a step back. “But you have to keep in mind that when I introduced myself, once she heard the name Harcourt, she was excited.”
“Oh yes,” she said, deflating a bit. “I didn’t consider that.”
“I’m sorry, but I hyphenate my name. It’s too precious to me not to.”
She nodded. “I get that. I hyphenate too. I’ve been Sandra Dunning too long to not be, so I’m now Dunning-Kage.”
“Then you understand precisely what happened.”
“I do,” she said, sounding utterly defeated. “I apologize. I’m just—I helped my ex so much with his career, and I haven’t been able to do a thing for Michael.”
“Just give it time,” I prodded her.
“Thank you.”
Once we were back inside, Thea came charging up to her mother and took her hand.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
Thea glanced at me, then back to her mother. “Hannah just arrived.”
I had no idea how that was anything not to be happy about. “Where is she?”
“She’s in the front room with my friend from school.”
“Does she know Werner?”
“Apparently so,” she told her mother.
“Well, let’s go see her,” Sandra announced, kissing her daughter’s hand before leading her forward.
I followed because I was going the same way, as I wanted to see my girl. I couldn’t hear what Sandra was whispering to Thea, but she stopped when we reached her. There was Hannah in a long-sleeve, high-neck—not a turtleneck because it didn’t fold over—that reached right under her chin, minidress in black. She was also in heavy black tights and black four-inch heels. The all-one-color looked really good and very classy. The young man talking to her looked happy to see her, and was holding her hand.
When she saw me, she gave his hand a squeeze and then strode over. It didn’t escape my notice that the young man trailed right after.
“Hi, Aunt Sandy, how are you?” she greeted her fondly, leaning in to kiss her cheek before stepping in close to me.
“I’m fine, Hannah, thank you for coming. I thought your father said you were busy.”
“I was, but the event ended early, so I was able to come,” she said, turning to me. “You look very nice.”
“I was worried that a maroon tweed suit might not be good.”
“Not at all,” she assured me. “The vest in the wheat color, the white dress shirt, and the tie matching the suit looks great. The oxblood wingtips look great too.”