I’m the CEO and I damn well know what I’m doing. In the end, I won’t just be saving money, I’ll be saving the goddamn business, and thousands of jobs. Status quo doesn’t work in a changing world.
“Tea?” she asks, and I take that as an invitation.
“Sure.”
Her hips sway slightly, and as she reaches above her head to grab another mug, it exposes the skin at the small of her back. Her innocent sexuality hits like a double shot of rum, and a fucking moan catches in my throat. Shit.
“Everything okay?” she asks as she drops a tea bag into the mug.
“Yeah,” I say. A gust of wind howls outside, and the cedar shingles creak and twist. Where the hell was that noise when I needed it?
“I always loved that sound,” Kira says. “We had some crazy summer storms. I found them soothing and they always put me to sleep when I was young.”
“We had a metal roof growing up, and I loved when it rained.”
“I bet. Milk and sugar?”
“Milk,” I say and pull open the fridge. “This is my shelf here, but we all share, so feel free to help yourself to anything. Edna gave us a dozen fresh eggs yesterday.”
“Edna.” Her brow crinkles. “She’s the chicken lady, right?”
“That’s the one.” I pull out the jug and hand it to her. She splashes a bit in each cup and hands me mine. I take a sip, and she looks around the room, her mood mellow, sentimental.
“Do you have any thoughts on which realtor I should contact?” she asks.
“Actually yeah, I know a good one,” I say. I bought my place not long ago and had an excellent one. “I can get you his information.”
Cup of tea in hand, she blows on the surface and, barefoot, walks slowly into the other room. She stands before the paintings. “Gram was so talented,” she says.
“She was,” I say, admiring the paintings. I take in the lost look on Kira’s face, and my heart hitches. “You really miss her terribly, don’t you?”
She sniffs and turns a bit. “I do.” We both go quiet for a long time. The only audible sound is our soft breaths, and the fire crackling in the hearth. “I…I never got closure.”
That takes me by surprise, considering how close she seems to her Gram. “How come?”
“Mom didn’t think a service was necessary.” She glances at me and says, “I haven’t even been to the graveyard yet.” She shakes her head and gives a humorless laugh. “I don’t even know why I just told you that.”
“It’s late, you’re exhausted, and being here again is taking more of a toll than you realize. You needed someone to talk to, and I happened to be here.”
She nods and goes quiet again.
I touch one of the picture frames. “What are you going to do with them all?” I ask.
“I wish I could take them, but I live in a small one bedroom, and it would be a fortune to have them shipped. I’m going to donate them to the town’s art gallery,” she says.
“There’s enough of them around here.” I’ve never seen so many galleries in one place before.
“I want these to be enjoyed. Gram would like that.”
The fire flares and lights up the specks in her eyes. I grab another piece of wood, open the grate, and toss it on.
“What about you guys, though?” she asks, a frown on her face. “Where will you go?”
There is genuine concern in her eyes as she blinks at me. “Lobster season ends the last day of November. Do you think you’ll sell this place before everyone moves on to the next location?”
Her eyes light. “I never thought of that.” She smiles and nods. “It’s possible that I won’t be putting anyone out. This season, anyway.” She swallows and the sound carries. “I hate that mom wants to sell it. I mean, I know I don’t get back often, but it’s