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So yeah. I was the default winner for hosting.
The doorbell rang. I was halfway up the stairs when I heard the front door open.
“Cody? It’s Noah and Wes.”
I jogged up the rest of the way. “Come on in. We’re set up downstairs still.”
“Nice. Can I grab a soda?” Noah pointed toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, of course. I got snacks, too. You can help bring them down.” I glanced at Wes. “You need a drink?”
“Sure. I can carry stuff, too. Is everyone coming tonight?” Wes trailed after Noah as we made our way to the kitchen.
“Tristan texted the group saying he’d be here. I’m not sure about Austin.”
I grabbed one of the bags of chips and waited while the guys dug through the fridge for the sodas they wanted. When they’d also snagged snacks off the island, we headed down to the basement game room.
“Just put the snacks over here.”
I opened the chips and set them on the smaller table that was pressed against the wall. I thought it was supposed to be used as an end table. Or one of those things that sat behind a sofa. But it worked for this, too.
Musing about it reminded me that Megan had offered to help me decorate. I needed to see where she was with that. If nothing else, it would give us an excuse to hang out together.
“You really need to figure out what this room is going to be.” Noah pulled out one of the folding chairs and took his spot at the table. “I bet it’s depressing when you’re not set up for poker.”
Wes shrugged. “I still don’t have all of my rooms figured out. It’s not a big deal. Just get some stuff, throw it in. If, down the road, you decide you don’t like it, toss it and try again.”
I winced. I might be a billionaire, but I wasn’t going to waste money just because I had it. “I’d rather take my time and get it right.”
“Your choice.” Wes popped the tab on his drink. “I’m doing that with the dive shop. So I get it. But it’s a lot easier to redecorate than to decide you didn’t dig the pool deep enough at the start.”
“You’re really doing that? Putting a pool inside your shop?” Noah shook his head. “I don’t see how that works.”
“It’s going great. You should swing by someday. Let me know when and I’ll clear it with the crew. I’m on target to open in January.” Wes took several swallows of soda. “I was hoping for sooner, but we ran into some shipping delays for various materials.”
“Sorry. That’s no fun.” I was curious what, exactly, Wes was doing with his days. But I also didn’t want to ask. He’d get annoyed and offended, I guessed because he thought I was judging him, and that would ruin the night before it started.
“Eh. It’s fine. I’m finishing up the business classes I think I’ll need this semester. I’d like to squeeze in a few more dive certifications before we open, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I should have pushed harder over the summer, but I needed to be here to get the building taken care of and the remodel started. I can always get the certs once we’re open. It just means hiring instructors in the interim.” Wes reached for the deck of cards in the middle of the table and started to shuffle.
“Let me text Tristan and Austin and see where they are.” I slipped my phone out of my pocket and started up the stairs. Maybe they were close—or even waiting at the door. Although I should have heard the bell if they rang it. I hadn’t missed it yet.
Tristan texted back almost immediately. He was parking and would be right here. Austin finally replied that he wasn’t going to make it after all.
I frowned. Hopefully, everything was okay.
I watched out the front window for Tristan and finally spotted him as he walked around the corner from the street side of the townhouse row and started up the steps to the front door. I pulled it open as he was reaching for the doorbell.
“Hey, man. Glad you could make it.” I gripped Tristan’s hand and pulled him close for a back-slapping hug. “Feels like you’re always busy.”
“Tell me about it.” Tristan shook his head. He kicked off his shoes inside the door and then shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I didn’t even make it home yet. I’m grateful I still have so many clients. It’s good to be busy. But I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t all end up in crisis at the same time.”
I chuckled. “That would be good. You need more than chips and cookies? I can throw a sandwich together or pop a burrito in the microwave.”
“I’d kill for a sandwich. I never got around to eating lunch—too busy. Anything you’ve got. I’m not picky.” Tristan shot me a grateful smile. “You want me to hang here while you make it?”
“Nah. Head down to the guys. Wes is already shuffling. You can tell him to go ahead and deal. I’ll just be a minute.” I hustled into the kitchen where I made quick work of a ham, turkey, and provolone sandwich. I even had lettuce and sliced tomatoes in the fridge, thanks to a recent grocery order and the fact that you could buy it all in ready-to-use packaging. After a moment’s thought, I tossed a dill spear on the plate beside the sandwich. I always appreciated a pickle. Maybe Tristan was the same.
I snagged one of the soda boxes out of the fridge and carried it and the plate down with me. I set the sandwich in front of Tristan, then put the sodas over by the chips.
