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“Do you need some help?” Silas asked, his words slowly filtering back in. “I can call someone.”
“No,” I sighed. I blinked through the pain, cursing my past self for fucking up as grandly as I did nearly seven years ago. “I’ll be fine. I can make it back to the resort if you want to head off.”
“Oh, okay.” He adjusted his clipboard, stuffing it under his shoulder. He looked almost defeated, disappointed that I’d not had it in me to walk the entire property line. Probably just upset he hadn’t gotten a surefire sale. “Would you like me to tell the owner that you’re interested?”
I leveled my gaze at him, shrinking him immediately. A twig of a man. “Obviously. I just need to see if I can get an investor before putting in an offer. Don’t look so disappointed that I’m not falling at your feet and begging for the property right now.”
Silas’s mouth opened, his eyes widening as he appeared flustered. “I’m not?—”
“You are. I get it. You’re going to make, what, twenty percent off of this? Maybe more? For a fifty-one-million dollar deal, I’d be itching to sell too.”
The color drained from his face as he shifted from foot to foot in the snow. “I’ll… I’ll let them know you’re interested.”
————
With an ice pack on top of my knee and a heating pad below it, I winced as Holly adjusted the cushion holding my leg up. “Have you made a decision yet?” she asked.
“I’m going to put in an offer soon.”
She pursed her lips in annoyance and stood up straight. “I meant in terms of who to hire. It’s been days, Wade. You need a new assistant as soon as humanly possible.”
“I feel like it can wait,” I joked, flashing her a little smile.
“You realize I’m doing two jobs right now while we look for a replacement, correct?”
“And you’ll be paid for two jobs.”
“It’s not about the pay. It’s about the stress.” She crossed her arms over her chest, cementing my position as an inconvenience yet again. Stop thinking about that. Seven years is a long ass time ago. “I can’t do it all by myself.”
I already knew that. I didn’t want her to be doing as much as she currently was, and I didn’t want her to be running around like a chicken with its head chopped off. I also knew there was only one candidate who had shown up that was a perfect fit for the role. Anyone else would cause a headache for me, Holly, and every other member of staff who would have to interact with my assistant.
But that would mean hiring Blunder Bunny.
“I know you can’t do it all yourself.” I winced as another barrage of pain shot through my leg. Painkillers. I need painkillers. “I’ll sort it. Okay?”
She hesitated as she looked at me, a mixture of irritation and pity flashing across her face. “Fine.”
“Can you fetch me some Ibuprofen?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute.” She moved to the door with the only kind of grace someone of her age and stature could. “You really need to start doing your physiotherapy again.”
I reached for my phone the moment the door closed, grunting from the agony as my leg shifted. I scoured my desk, flicking through paper after paper of realty fliers and info packets until I found what I was looking for.
The resume of Raylene Harleson.
She was the only option. And in fairness, I wanted to hire her, wanted someone nearly as fiery as myself to bounce off of. It would be fun to see her flustered and out of her wits, and considering she definitely didn’t think she’d be getting an offer, it would be that much more satisfying to do it myself. Might as well make her squirm as much as I was.
Mouthy little bunny.
Chapter 5
Ray
The sickly smell of antibacterial spray and latex gloves had almost become as familiar as my home. White tile, slick from being recently mopped, wet floor signs dotted between where my feet stood still and the entryway. The beeping chimes of monitors in Mom’s room, the scratch of a pen on a clipboard, the squeak of a marker on a dry-erase surface.
For the third time this month, Mom was back in the hospital. A mild case of pneumonia, they’d said. A few days on an antibiotic drip would kick it. It wouldn’t fix her brain, though. That was deteriorating way too quickly for someone of her age.
I’d been taking care of her on my own for nearly three years now. At twenty-three, the doctors had sat me and Dad down, confirming our worst nightmare: early onset dementia. Together, we were able to pay the bills. But after he passed two years later, I had to take on the burden alone.
