Chapter Seven
Talia
Ididn’t join Archer in the shower that Monday morning, but I was able to talk him into having crepes. Calista made herself scarce, claiming she needed to take her own shower, and telling him it was nice to meet him just in case she missed saying goodbye.
I appreciated her thoughtfulness.
Over warm apple-cinnamon crepes topped with fresh vanilla bean whipped cream, I asked Archer his plans for the week. He told me he was flying back that day, after all, though he offered to save me a seat on the jet if I wanted to join him. At my hesitation, he mentioned that if I came back with him, I could take a look at the facility and see what I thought. I could also check out my would-be temporary townhouse before flying back home to pack and rejoining him the next week on a more permanent basis.
“That way you can make an informed decision,” he said.
To which I replied, “I’ve already decided. I’ll do it.”
He also let me know he’d overheard me talking to Lis earlier when he said, “Charge me whatever you want, Wildflower. I can afford ‘astronomical.’”
He grabbed his suitcase and kissed me goodbye at the door. Just a brief peck, not the lingering, body-pressing, heated exchange I was expecting.
Then, he left.
I’ve spent the week practicing writing up a contract. After doing an online search and learning everything I could about consulting fees and contract wording (I couldn’t very well copy Archer’s, now, could I?), I finally cobbled together a respectable document. He not only agreed to the amount I asked for, he added in a section for bonus compensation if I meet his timeline parameters or do an “exceptional” job as determined by his team. It was all very official.
In between contract negotiations, I tidied the apartment for my extended leave and packed my mismatched luggage for my trip. I also transferred any personal documents, including the contract, from the laptop onto my cloud drive and returned said laptop to Ed Lambert, Chief Executive Butthead of Lotus Leaf. Thankfully, I encountered Krista while I was there, and she gave me my final paycheck. Regretfully, no bonus. On the bright side, I bumped into Prisha, and she offered to turn in my company laptop to Ed so I wouldn’t have to. I also successfully avoided Brandon. Before I left, I promised Prisha we’d get together at a later date over cocktails, though I knew it’d be a while, so I was vague. I wasn’t ready to share the news of my recent relocation plans with her.
A week after the day I spent losing my job and gaining a different one, I’m at yet another Sunday brunch. This one with my father and sister. We are seated outside under a jaunty yellow-striped umbrella at the Bread Basket, a charming seaside brunch destination. Calista insisted we eat here instead of Mango’s, which made me wonder if there has been a development with Julio, or Webber, for that matter, and she hasn’t told me yet. Alas, we’re with Papa today, and my flight to Ohio is a few hours from now, so I’ll have to grill her at a later time. Not having brunch at Mango’s also means no mouthwatering huevos rancheros. I settled for Belgian waffles with thick-cut black pepper bacon, because come on. Lis ordered eggs benedict with crabmeat, and Papa is digging into something called a chorizo scramble, but by the looks of it, should have been named The Heart Clogger.