up the phone and pointed to a row of brown leather chairs. “Sit down over there. Pearl will be here in a sec.”
A streak of defiance raced through Ashley, and she purposefully strode over to the floor-to-ceiling window and stared out at the falling snow.
“Ms. Callahan?”
Ashley turned around, and a woman in her fifties with styled short brown hair and a navy blue dress with gray pinstripes crossed the room to greet her. She took the woman’s offered hand and shook it.
“I’m Pearl Thomas—Mr. Harty’s assistant. I’ll show you to your office.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m late, but I couldn’t get the garage door opened this morning and had to call a Lyft. I guess there aren’t too many in town because I had to wait a while before the driver came by.”
Pearl smiled and the fine lines under her eyes deepened. “You’re from Denver, right?”
“I am. I guess it’ll take me a little time to get used to being in a small town. Are you from here?” she asked as she followed the woman down the hall.
“Not originally, but my husband and I have lived here for the past twenty-five years.” Pearl stopped in front of a doorjamb, then reached inside and switched on the lights. “This will be your office during your stay,” she said.
Ashley walked inside the room and smiled when she saw the picture window and the view of the snow-covered mountains. “The scenery is so beautiful that I may get distracted from working.”
Pearl smiled and ambled across the space. “The password to the computer and the phone extensions for the employees are in the desk’s middle drawer.”
Ashley nodded. “Thanks. What’s the receptionist’s name?” The bitch is what I should say.
“Sabrina Flint. She handles the front desk. If you need anything clerical, your assistant is Georgia, but you won’t be able to meet her since she’s called in sick. I’ll bring her by when she returns to work.”
“That sounds good. I didn’t think I’d have an assistant, so I’m happy about Georgia,” she said as she put her tote down on the desk.
“Mr. Harty wants to meet you. He’s with a client at the moment, but when he’s finished, I’ll come down and get you.” Pearl looked around the room. “If you need anything or have any questions, please let me know.”
“I will. Thank you, Pearl.”
Ashley closed the door behind Pearl as the woman exited the office. Happiness surged through her since she’d pictured her workspace as a cubicle in a dusty office. She never imagined she’d have her own office, an assistant, and a killer view. It was almost too good to be true.
As Ashley settled in, the sound of her phone ringing drew her attention. Digging in her purse, she gripped the phone, checked the number, and then answered.
“Have you met the owner?” Zach’s jovial voice irked her.
“Not yet, but I have a bone to pick with you,” she said, sinking down into the desk chair.
“Already?” There was a soft chuckle.
“I could’ve been seriously injured this morning in the shower. After I got out, the damn tiles in the ceiling came crashing down. Then, the garage door didn’t work, so I had to take a Lyft. The company’s house is pretty much a fixer-upper, and believe me, I’m being polite about it.”
“They have Lyft in Pinewood Springs? I’ll be damned.”
The muscles in her face tightened, and she resisted the urge to fling the phone against the wall. “So your curiosity about a ride-sharing platform takes precedence over a potential lawsuit?”
“Lawsuit?” Zach asked.
“Yeah, the one I would’ve filed if I’d gotten hurt this morning. When was the last time you were at that house?”
“It’s been a while. Are you okay?”
Ashley pressed her lips together. The threat of suing does it every time. “I barely escaped the tile downpour.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll send over a handyman to repair the damages. The garage door too.”
“Since you’re willing to do repairs, the windows in the master bedroom and family room have cracks around the frames, and the house feels like a wind tunnel. It’s been snowing since Saturday, and I’m freezing to death in that igloo.”
Zach laughed. “Okay—we can change out the windows.”
“Or I can stay at the Palace Hotel—it looks nice.”
“It should—it’s a five-star hotel. You have expensive taste, Ashley. It’ll be cheaper for me to send someone over to repair the place.”
“You can’t blame me for trying. I love historic—” A small knock on the door interrupted Ashley’s train of thought. “Come in,” she said.