Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  Brodie’s face split into a grin. “Take all the time you want,” she said, spinning back to the drafting table. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Devon said, pocketing the offer. “Hey, I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

  “Yeah. There’s an open bottle of Malbec on the counter. Pour me a glass, will you?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Preoccupied with a design, Brodie had no idea Devon had returned until she placed a glass of wine on the table. A second later, the contract that now had her signature scrawled across the bottom was placed next to it. “You didn’t have to sign that today,” Brodie said. “You could have taken it to a lawyer for review.”

  “Do I need to?”

  “No, you don’t,” Brodie said, picking up her glass. “And thanks for the wine.”

  As Brodie took a sip of her drink, Devon looked at the sketches on the table. “That’s not the Hirshfeld addition.”

  “No, it’s a cottage in New Milton they just bought. Apparently, it was a steal, but Dori hates the kitchen, and Winston loathes the floor plan, so they asked me to come up with some ideas. I went down there earlier this week and took all the measurements, and this is as far as I’ve gotten.”

  “So, will my expertise be needed on it?”

  Brodie’s eyes creased at the corners. “Yes, this will be a smart home all the way. Of course, I need to lock down the design before we start talking about all the geeky stuff.”

  “Speaking of geeky stuff, I still can’t believe you do this shit on paper when CAD is installed on every laptop you have.”

  “I use it. You know I use it. I couldn’t do what I do without it, but in the early stages, I like old school better. It makes me feel like I’m part of the design instead of just someone pushing a few buttons and sliding a mouse around a pad.”

  Brodie turned back to the table, and Devon sat on the edge of the bed, sipping her beer as she thought about how her life had just changed. It would be nice being able to live somewhere without worrying so much about break-ins or neighbors higher than kites. She’d finally be able to afford something better than second-hand furniture, and after all the meals Kate had fixed her, Devon was already looking forward to inviting her sister to dinner.

  Devon jerked upright. It had been almost three months since Brodie had returned from Bournemouth, and while the woman had hidden her pain from most, Devon had seen it on more than one occasion. Strong and defiant, Brodie still saddened at the sound of rain. Confidence bordering on arrogance gave way to glassy eyes when a love song played on the radio, and when her family phoned, it took Brodie days to return their calls.

  Devon had soon made it her mission not to mention Kate. It hadn’t been easy, and after a while, she intentionally put some distance between herself and Brodie, fearing if she slipped up, it would bring Brodie more pain. The usual invite to visit a pub hadn’t happened in months. The easy banter about her day or her evening had been edited to eliminate all mention of her sister, and whenever Kate called, Devon let it go to voice mail if Brodie was within hearing distance.

  Although it should never be a constant in any friendship, sometimes to protect those held dear, untruths are spoken, or words are censored. It’s what friends do. Business partners, on the other hand, aren’t afforded that same compassion for honesty has to come before all else. If you can’t trust your business partner, they have no business being your partner.

  Devon looked over at Brodie and took a deep breath. “I can’t thank you enough for giving me this opportunity, but…but what about Kate?”

  Brodie stiffened. “This has nothing to do with her.”

  “She’s still my sister, and whether you noticed it or not, I…well, I’ve done my best not to mention her, but I can’t keep that up. Not if we’re going to be working together as closely as I think we are.”

  “I noticed, and I appreciate what you’ve been doing, but you don’t have to any longer,” Brodie said as she began fiddling with some papers on the desk. “I’m okay.”

  “Liar.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “Then, don’t lie.”

  Brodie spun back around and tossed her pencil on the worktable. “Devon, I’m fine. Every day gets a bit better. Okay? I’m not saying I’m perfect, and life is grand, but I’m better than I was yesterday or the day before.”

  Devon didn’t know the details. The day following Brodie’s return from visiting her father, Devon had asked how the trip had gone only to be rebuked by her friend in a rant that ended with Brodie bolting from the room, stating unequivocally it was none of Devon’s damn business. Confused, she went over to visit Kate’s and casually asked the same, and Kate blew her sister off with a shrug. Neither woman had mentioned the other since that day, but the door had just cracked open, and Devon would be damned if she was going to allow it to close again. Brodie hadn’t been herself in months, and Devon knew in her heart, Kate was to blame.

  “You loved her, didn’t you?” Devon said softly.

  Brodie rested back in her chair. “Yes, love is a two-way street and Kate…Kate couldn’t get past the fact that I’m a woman.”

  “Shit,” Devon said, her eyes instantly misting.

  The room grew quiet, the hum of Brodie’s laptop the only sound as minutes crept by until finally, Brodie found the courage to ask a question she had wanted to ask for months. “How is she?”

  “She’s fine. She’s been keeping busy with work and…”

  Brodie knew what was coming, and she hung her head. “And?”

  “She’s seeing someone, Brodie. I’m sorry.”

  “I suppose it was bound to happen,” Brodie said, her voice lacking any emotion. She turned her back on Devon and stared at the drawings on her desk.

  Devon sniffled back some tears and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Hey…um…Gina’s working tonight. How about I order some takeaway, and we can shoot some pool. You know? Like old times.”

  “Can’t. I’m going out.”

  “Out?”

  “Yes, Cassidy, out, like on a date.”

  The room grew quiet again, almost too quiet. Brodie turned and saw Devon gawking back at her. Brodie sighed. “If you must know, Harper’s in town. She called earlier, and I’m going to meet her for a drink or two.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Um…no,” Devon said, lowering her eyes. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

  “What’s to regret? It’s not like I have anyone to come home to, is it? I’ve got no woman in my bed or in my life, and I’m not planning to sleep with Harper, but honestly, if the subject comes up, I can’t think of one reason why I should say no. Can you?”

  Devon looked up. “Rebound…maybe.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, it’s been almost three bloody months,” Brodie shouted, slapping her thighs. “No calls, no e-mails, no nothing. You said it yourself, Cassidy. Kate’s seeing someone else, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m assuming that someone else is a bloke—yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine, but men aren’t my flavor, women are. Women like Harper, who know what they want and who they want without making you believe one thing and then slapping you in the face with another.”

  Devon frowned. Although the wound in Brodie’s heart had scabbed over, it was still there. In the tone of her voice, the furrows in her forehead, and the clench of her fists, it was like graffiti on a wall. “I’m sorry she hurt you,” Devon whispered. “I’m truly, truly sorry.”

  Brodie let out a long breath and reaching across the desk, she switched off the lamp. She got to her feet, and as she made her way to the wardrobe, she stopped for a second to give her friend a hug. “I know you are, and I appreciate it. All right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, now I need to get changed, or I’m going to be late.”

  “I guess that’s my cue to leave?”
>
  “You can hang here if you’d like. If I hook up with Harper, we’ll most likely end up at her hotel so you won’t be interrupting anything. Oh, and I promise to take you up on the offer about takeaway and shooting some pool. It’s been way too long.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, and don’t think I’m not going to hold you to that,” Devon said as she went to leave. “See you later, boss.”

  “Don’t you mean partner?”

  Devon stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Yeah,” she said, her expression brightening the room. “I guess I do…partner.”

  The two women exchanged smiles, but when Devon turned to leave, Brodie called out, “Hey, Cassidy.”

  “Yeah?” Devon said, spinning around again.

  Brodie paused for a moment. “Is he a nice man?”

  Devon’s heart broke, and fighting to control her emotions, she bobbed her head. “He seems to be. A bit nancy for me, but Kate seems happy.”

  “Good.”

  ***

  The day after Kate returned from Bournemouth, steadfastly refusing to think about or speak of Brodie Shaw, she returned to work more focused on her career than ever before. As if possessed, and much to the chagrin of her lackadaisical partner, Kate took on as many cases as was allowed. She worked each, leaving no stone unturned right down to the smallest of pebbles, and on the rare occasion when she wasn’t working, if friends called about dinners or drinks, Kate happily accepted. She was on a mission…a mission to forget a woman and find a man.

  Having already crossed Chase Wakefield off her list, for weeks, Kate was the third or fifth wheel whenever she met with friends until one suggested she meet an acquaintance of theirs. Kate loathed blind dates almost as much as she loathed dating apps, except when you’re an amped-up workaholic, your options are limited. So, on one warm summer night, Kate was introduced to Julian Fitzgerald.

  Julian was an attractive man, and he knew it. His chestnut brown hair was cut in the trendy long on top, short on the side style that was all the rage, and the stubble on his chin and cheeks was forever two days old. He was only a few inches taller than Kate, but what Julian lacked in height, he made up for with a charismatic smile and a light, carefree attitude. His waist was slender, and his shoulders were square, and he had a nicely defined six-pack courtesy of his yearly membership at a gym. And even though his profession should have hardened his hands, when he first held Kate’s, she was surprised at their softness.

  Julian had inherited his father’s business when the old man keeled over and died from a heart attack. The first thing Julian did was change the name of the company from Fitzgerald & Son to Premier Hardscapes by Julian. The second thing he did was raise the prices. It had been an ongoing argument between father and son for years, the elder believing his prices were fair while the younger thought them to be ridiculous…even though Julian had never laid a single brick, block, or paving stone in his life.

  As a youngster, Julian’s dream was to work alongside his father to learn the trade that would eventually become his, but at the age of eight, he was diagnosed with childhood asthma. Between the coughing and shortness of breath, his parents decided Julian couldn’t be exposed to the dust, dirt, and pollen on his father’s jobsites. Young Julian was not happy. He whined and complained, sending himself into more than one asthma attack as a result of his meltdowns until, on one very trying afternoon, his mother came up with an idea. She gathered up every interlocking building block she could find in Julian’s toy chest and asked Julian to help design the next project. She believed it to be a game, just something to quiet a rambunctious child, so she could take care of the bookkeeping, except it wasn’t a game to Julian. He worked, hunched over on the floor for hours, anxious to show his father what he created, and the game eventually became his calling. Julian’s eye for design surpassed both his parents, and by the time he turned sixteen, Julian no longer wanted to work side-by-side with his father in the dirt and dust. Even though his allergies and asthma had eased as he had grown older, Julian preferred the comfort of their home office, and eventually, he was designing every project his father had under contract.

  It wasn’t until his mother passed away when Julian took over the company books and discovered what his father was charging, and the rift began. Their list of clients was the who’s who of the upper class, yet they had almost nothing to show for it, except for the company’s reputation.

  If it had to do with patios, driveways, retaining walls, stonework, ponds, and fire pits, there weren’t many who hadn’t heard of their company or Julian’s design capabilities, and after his father died, Julian used that to his advantage. He added to his employees the best from his competitors, luring them away with promises of better wages and benefits, and although the benefits he offered were only a smidge above the others, the wages were not. Julian paid his people well. He was driven to succeed further than his father could have ever dreamed, and to do that, the quality of the work produced by Hardscapes by Julian had to surpass his father’s…and it did.

  Ten years from the day after changing the company name, Julian had doubled his clients and tripled his money. He didn’t break his back lifting bricks and pavers, nor did he sweat in the summer sun or work in the misty rain of autumn or winter. Julian did what he did best. He ran his company. He schmoozed with new customers, and putting in longer hours than his workers in the field, he came up with new, innovative designs that everyone in the business was talking about. However, when Friday night rolled around, Julian put aside his company and partied like a college freshman.

  “You are not canceling again.”

  Kate rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, but I need to work on finishing up some paperwork.”

  “What about working on our relationship?” Julian crowed into the phone. “Because, babe, I gotta tell you, this is getting old.”

  Kate silently agreed. Julian’s Friday night routine was getting old. When she first met him, Kate found him attractive and likable. A seemingly fellow workaholic, Kate believed she’d found her match, and it wasn’t long before Julian ended up in her bed. It wasn’t the best sex she’d ever had, and it wasn’t the worst either. At least he preferred the window closed.

  As the weeks passed, Kate enjoyed spending time with Julian as long as it didn’t include Friday nights. Julian loved spending those in noisy pubs with his boisterous mates. They’d slam their mugs on tables as they bellowed about the football matches playing on the flat-screen TVs or challenge each other to never-ending dart games that lasted until the wee hours of the morning. It was fun at first. It was nice to be someone’s other half again, to be part of a pair instead of the odd woman out at a gathering. It was nice to have plans, instead of going home alone to books, leftovers, and silence…yet Friday nights were different.

  Julian was always a perfect gentleman when they went out on their own. He’d hold Kate’s hand, open doors for her, and even pull out her chair, but when he was around his mates, Julian turned boastful and arrogant. He’d raise his voice to project over others around him, name-dropping his list of rich and famous clients as he spoke about his week. He would point out all the things his friends were doing wrong in their lives while assuring them he’d never made the same mistakes, and when his mates weren’t listening, Julian talked about them behind their backs.

  At first, Kate put her feelings aside, blaming Julian’s hubris on ale and testosterone. She told herself it was what men did, and it was only one night a week. That lasted for three weeks before Kate began finding excuses to skip Julian’s set-in-concrete plans because she had also noticed something else about her boyfriend. On pub nights, Julian didn’t hold Kate’s hand. Instead, he’d pull her close, and draping his arm across her shoulders or wrapping it tightly around her waist, with no words he made it clear she was his. Kate didn’t mind being Julian’s girlfriend. She actually liked it six days of the week, but his actions in the crowded pubs filled with his college buddies made her feel less like a partner…and
more like a trophy.

  Kate flinched out of her thoughts. Julian was still talking, and she hadn’t heard a word he said. “What? I’m sorry…um…someone needed some files. What were you saying?”

  “I was saying that you’re my girl, and now that I have you, I want you to be with me when I’m seeing my mates. I’m proud of you, and I want to show you off.”

  “I’m not a prize, Julian,” Kate said, straightening her backbone.

  “You are in my eyes.”

  In an instant, Julian went from being annoying to sweet, and Kate slumped in her chair. “All right…um…listen. Let me finish up here, and I’ll meet you there. How’s that?”

  “When?”

  Like a slow-motion Jack-in-the-box, Kate sat straight again. “I don’t know, Julian. I’ll get there when I get there, but that’s not going to happen until we end this conversation.”

  “Right. Fine. Then I’ll see you at the pub. Just don’t take all night.”

  With a click, the line went dead, and Kate slid her mobile back into her pocket. She glanced at four remaining folders on her desk. In each were a few forms containing information that needed to be entered into the computer. On a bad day, it would have taken Kate an hour to complete the task. Tonight, she had every intention of making it last for at least two or possibly three if she counted visits to the ladies’ and the vending machines.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “When do you have to be at the airport?”

  Harper raised her eyes. She put aside her fork and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Do you realize that’s the third time you’ve asked me that since picking me up at the hotel?”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes,” Harper said, looking back and forth between the plates in front of them. “And my dinner is delicious, so I’m not sure why you’ve picked at yours for over ten minutes without taking a bite.”

  “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought,” Brodie said, resting her fork on the plate.