Page 15 of Go Find Less
“Uh, hi,” she says, blinking twice. “I thought I was meeting with Claudia.”
“Claudia has another meeting, I told her I’d fill in.” I see Tif give me a look out of the corner of my eye, and I will her not to say anything to correct me. In reality, I’d told Claudia to go supervise the tool company executives setting up their annual awards dinner in the event space. “We have quite a bit going on today, so I want her full attention with our paying clients.”
She lurches back at my words, and I realize how harsh they sound. Paying clients. Like she wasn’t doing us all a favor by taking on the design aspect of this event, something she clearly didn’t want to do in the first place.
“Why don’t we head down to the space and take a look before things get too hectic?” I gesture behind her to the door, and the look of surprise returns to her face. Tif scurries out of the frame, back to her desk outside the office.
“Oh, sure,” Piper mumbles, and then pulls open her tote, reaching in to grab a large tablet. Her brows furrowing, she digs in the bag, before looking up and then to the desk behind me. “Do you mind?” She lifts her bag up, indicating she needs to set it down. I step aside, and let her move forward, setting the tablet down before digging in the giant, intricately-carved leather bag.
“That’s a nice purse,” I muse quietly, and she freezes, her eyes darting toward me before seemingly shaking herself out of whatever thought crossed her mind
“Thanks.” Her voice is clipped as she takes a handful of items out of her bag and lays them on the desk, cluttering it quickly. “I made it.” I can feel my head tilt to the side, surprised. She made it?
I study it closer - the dark, rich leather is bordered on the top and bottom of the bag with deep set floral patterns, marking out lilies, tulips, and roses woven with vines. The straps are covered in the same design, the edges stitched with thick, dark string.
It must be a sturdy bag for all the shit she’s pulling out of it.
“I can’t find my…” she mumbles to herself, and then, triumphantly, raises her hand up, a white stylus pen in hand. I notice, absently, that she’s not wearing a wedding ring. “Kidding, found it!” She sets it at the top of the tablet, where it stays in place with what I’m assuming is a magnet, unlocking the screen.
I try not to stare, but when the screen lights up, it opens to a clearly in-progress design of a pale blue negligee. Noticing my observation, she navigates away quickly, opening a note-taking app and starting to pack her bag back up.
I watch as she grabs things, throwing them absently in the abyss, before spotting the small, white and purple box among the Target receipts and containers of chapstick.
A vibrator. An unopened, bullet vibrator, sitting on the dark wood of the desk.
“Sample from work,” she says to herself, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, and I fight the stunned look that threatens to spread across my face. My cock gives an involuntary twitch at the sight. Piper makes a small sound in the back of her throat, but collects herself quickly and grabs it, along with the last of the debris, save a large, yellow tape measure, and haphazardly throws it in her bag before setting it on the floor in front of the desk. She picks up her tablet, hugging it to her chest, and reaches around her back, hitching the tape measure to her waistband like a handyman “Shall we?” Without waiting for my response, she stomps toward the open door like she’s leading a tour. I can’t do anything but follow.
The Pine is a rustic space, a large barn-style venue hiding on a few acres behind the neighborhoods where most of us grew up. From my understanding, we hadn’t done a lot after the acquisition several years before - mostly focused on upgrading the catering kitchen to full services, sprucing up the suites, and adding a covered outdoor ceremony option that was much-needed for sunny Texas days.
“Will we have access to the full space?” Piper asks. She steps into the echoing room, which is bustling with decorators adjusting tablecloths and florists placing hanging greenery over the edges of the large, stone mantle of the fireplace at one end of the room. On the opposite side, a DJ is loading in large speakers, talking to Claudia, while next to him, a group of gruff looking men sit around one of the round tables, pouring over a laptop.
“Absolutely,” I answer, trying to keep up with her quick, purposeful steps.
“I’ll need specs for the digital signage.” She points to the TVs above the built-in bar and next to the buffet area. Realizing I didn’t grab anything to take notes, I pull out my phone.
I’m off my game.
A text appears across the screen.
SAVANNAH BURROUGHS
What was that about?
I don’t have the time or energy to respond to her question. We weren’t attached. I didn’t owe her an explanation as to why I hadn’t wanted her to give me a kiss before she left, like a doting girlfriend.
Digital signage specs, I type into the notes app.
“I think Jackie mentioned something about a volunteer DJ, we’ll have to make sure that they have a screen so we can play the stupid slideshow Carla and Fallon want to do.” She rolls her eyes, and I have to agree. It is a stupid idea. But I was just here to provide the venue and the things that came with it. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
She looks over the room, making a few more notes on her tablet before walking over to the bar area and unhooking the measuring tape from her belt. “Can you?” She extends the base to me, and points to the side of the bar near where I’m standing. She takes the metal tabbed end, walking to the other side of the bartop and placing it on the end.
“72 inches,” I say flatly. She lets go of the end, the tape flying back into the base in my hand, and she gives me an apologetic smile.
“I want to get a few more while we’re still here.” She walks back toward me, putting her tablet down on the bar to mark the measurement. She holds out her hand for the tape measure.
“I got it.” She looks up at me - it’s not a huge height gap, especially in her heels. Through her long lashes, her blue eyes are narrowed in question. I just stare back. After a long second, she looks away, and then quickly down to her tablet, busying herself.
From the corner, I hear the front door opening, a gust of wind ruffling the long, ivory curtains on one wall.
