Under My Skin
Page 61

 J. Kenner

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So as soon as I’m back at Damien’s desk, I pick up the phone. “Can you grab Damien’s line? I need to make a call about the resort.”
“Sure.” Mila is smart and competent and in another month or two she could work Damien’s desk alone. With any luck, it will be Rachel’s job to train her because I’ll be in my new office in the real estate division. Right now, though, she’s my shadow.
Dean answers on the first ring, sounding a little out of breath. “Ah, Nathan Dean.”
“Nathan, good morning. It’s Sylvia. How are you?”
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Sorry. I was—I was just in the middle of something. I thought you were Damien. Is he—”
“He’s fine, but I’m not calling on his behalf.” As a rule, Nathan’s quiet and pretty easy to intimidate. Hopefully if he knows Damien’s not about to jump on the call, he’ll chill. “I was hoping to set up a meeting. I’ve got a potential project coming up, and if you have time to add it in, we should talk. You know I’m working in the real estate department now, right?”
“Of course, of course. I—well, I’m flattered you’d think of me, but the truth is that my schedule is jam-packed through the spring at least.”
“That’s wonderful.” I’m genuinely pleased for him. Since I hadn’t read anything about him in the trade papers, I’d feared he didn’t have many projects. “I know about Trent’s house, of course, but what else have you got on your plate?”
“Well, there’s another with Trent and—”
“With Trent?” I know it’s not for Stark Real Estate Development. “Is he building a vacation house in Santa Barbara?”
I’d asked the question lightly, just as a toss-away because of Trent’s recent trip up there. So I’m surprised when Nathan stumbles over the answer, saying, “Santa Barbara? No. No. I mean, he’s not—actually, you know, I’m running late for a meeting.”
“Sure. No problem.” We end the call, and now I’m wondering what’s up with Trent. I can’t think of any reason why he’d want to keep a project secret. Unless he’s relocating and doesn’t want anyone at work to know yet? I frown, because that’s actually a real possibility. He was genuinely pissed off when I got Cortez and he didn’t. But I hadn’t thought that he was pissed enough to go shopping for a new job.
I’d hate to see him go, but I can’t silence the selfish little voice that points out that without Trent in the real estate division, there will be more opportunity once I shift permanently into that department.
I’m making a mental note to ask Rachel if she has any gossip when Mila glances up from the phone by the couch, where she’d just ended a call that had come in for Damien. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I frown. “Except that the one guy I’d hoped to entice with the promise of steady work is all booked up.”
“But that’s good, right?”
“It is for him.” I puff out my cheeks as I take a breath, then blow it out, feeling edgy and frustrated and slightly off. “Not so great for me.” I press my fingertip to my temple. “I need another coffee. Want one?”
“No, thanks. But I can get you one if you want.”
I wave off the offer. “I need to move anyway.”
I’m standing as my cell rings. It’s Ethan, and I answer as I’m stepping away from my desk. “I’m so glad you called. I was on the boat and didn’t get your texts, and I’m—”
“Sylvia, honey, it’s Dad.”
I reach out one hand to grab the side of the desk. “Why are you calling on Ethan’s phone?”
“You know why.” His voice is somehow both gruff and soft. As if he’s frustrated, but trying hard not to show it.
“I can’t talk to you right now. You had no right to tell him.”
“Honey, you—”
“You need to stop calling me that.”
“Please, let me talk to you. I love you.”
I cringe, those words sounding harsh and horrible from this man. “You have a funny way of showing it. And you need to stop calling me. I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.”
“When will that be?”
“Never,” I whisper as a chill snakes up my spine. “That will be never.”
I end the call, then start to slide my phone back onto my desk, but my fingers aren’t working very well, and it tumbles from my hand and onto the ground. I spit out a curse, and I see Mila’s forehead pucker. “Are you okay?”