commission without putting in much effort.”
“On the contrary, sugar.” I signal to the server that we need more drinks. We’re not going anywhere for a bit yet. “My tasks for you will rarely be to simply find dumpy warehouses with such little requirements. I’ll usually demand every crumb on the demographics, environmental factors, and financial analysis that your broker heart can collect. This first shot was lucky.”
She gives me a defiant upturn of her nose. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you’re trying to scare me off.”
“Does that make accepting more tempting?”
“Maybe. I’m always up for a challenge, especially if it involves showing off my skillsets while proving someone wrong.” Her smile is genuine enough that I feel the impact against my chest.
A scowl is my natural reaction as I rub at the foreign ache. “I’ll warn you that I’m hard to please. Whatever I need, you’ll be there with a full report.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from the likes of Landon Winters.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but I choose to center on the positive.
“Careful or you’ll inflate my ego.”
Vannah laughs under her breath. “That bad boy has to be at full capacity.”
“You’re always welcome to give me several complimentary pumps so I can offer my best performance.” I shift my hips in offering.
“You’re shameless.” She rips her gaze away when I catch her glancing at my lap. “I better watch my mouth, or you won’t fit through the door.”
“Please don’t.” The words come out as a growl.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she sits forward and extends her arm, “I accept.”
I slide my palm along her proffered one, pumping our clasped hands once. “Welcome to my team, Savannah.”
“Don’t make me regret this,” she orders.
Oh, I most certainly will.
I allow a slight curve to lift my lips. Mouse meet cat. She’s going to be right where I want her very soon. It will be a great honor to mold Vannah Simons into a form I see fit, whether willingly or by force.
Bath salts and acetone sting my nostrils, but I hardly notice. I sink my toes into the bubbly tub with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff.”
Clea sags in the luxurious seat next to mine, purring as the warm water churns around her feet. “This was a fabulous idea.”
A hum vibrates my throat. “Thanks for the invite, Mom.”
“Uh-huh, I appreciate being included.” Clea’s mouth goes slack as her eyelids flutter shut.
My mother beams at us from her chair on my other side. “You’re welcome, girls. It’s too bad Presley couldn’t join us.”
I pout at the mention of my missing bestie. “She’s off doing her motherly duties.”
“Her sweet boy is such an angel. I’m sure he would’ve loved a spa day.”
“He’s only a few months old,” I remind her.
She swats at the chemically perfumed air. “That just fine.”
“Pretty sure these fumes aren’t good for babies.”
Her sniff ends with a cringe. “Perhaps that’s true.”
“Don’t worry, he’s spoiled rotten.” My credit card statement is proof enough. Splurging on that little man is a true delight.
“That’s good.” A serene smile brightens her features. “We all deserve to be pampered every now and then.”
“Darn skippy,” my friend agrees.
“You’re such a riot, Clea.” Mama Simons giggles behind her palm.
“Just feeding the humor pool.”
She fluffs her red hair—the same auburn shade as mine. We don’t discuss the fact that she has to dye hers these days. “And you do it well, dear. Laughter keeps your heart young.”
I squint at her through my relaxed haze. She’s an expert on the subject. Even in her mid-sixties, Jillian Simons is a fox. Her skin is still naturally smooth considering her age. The wrinkles she has are well earned, and she wears them with pride. Those good genes are being passed down to me.
Another slow exhale escapes me as the massage feature kneads my lower back. This salon is top-notch, which comes as no surprise since this outing is on my mom’s dime. She likes to pretend we’re still teenagers with dismal funds. I’ll never complain about a free pedicure. That’s a small handout I accept from my parents. A sour gurgle erupts in my belly. My father is damn lucky to have her. I’d be salty about that if he didn’t treat her like a goddess. Regardless of his bitterness towards me, he adores my mother. I’m well aware that he loves me too. It just wouldn’t kill him to express that more often.
Can someone say daddy issues?
Guilty as charged.
With a huff,