“Oh, well. I’ll close my eyes.”
Chrissy lets out a loud and annoyed sound, which makes me laugh.
“Glad nothing has changed,” I mutter.
“Want to change into something more comfortable?” Harmon asks.
“I’d love to take a shower.”
He kisses my cheek, letting his lips linger. “Go shower. I’ll get you if you’re needed.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, giving him a soft kiss on his lips before going into the bathroom.
I come undone in there, by the way. I want to get clean but also need a moment alone to shed the weight of the day. Tears fall down my face, mixing with the water. I let it all out, sobbing like a maniac, but when I step out of the shower, I feel a million times better.
They’re in the kitchen and dining room when I get out of the shower. Cammy is cooking something on the stove whileHarmon is sitting with Chrissy at the table, staring at something she’s showing him on her phone.
“Should you be on the phone right now?” I ask, holding the towel tightly around my waist.
“Should you be walking around naked?” she retorts.
“I’m not naked, but if you want to see naked, I’ll—”
“No!” she screeches, then laughs as she covers her eyes.
Harmon laughs softly, shaking his head. I hurry to my bedroom to put on a pair of pajama pants, and when I get back to the table, there are a bunch of hot dogs on a plate in the center of the table with an open bag of hot dog buns, the bottle of ketchup and mustard.
“Mystery meat has never smelled so good,” I say as I sit down and grab a bun to shove a hot dog inside of, topping it with ketchup only.
“Honestly, I’m so hungry I’d eat oatmeal right now,” Cammy says.
Chrissy and I gasp. Then Chrissy says, “Well, I’m so hungry I’d eat peas!” And then cracks up laughing.
I chuckle and add, “Oh yeah? I’ll beat you. I’m so hungry I’d eat olives!”
“Yuck!” Cammy says, making a sour face.
“Hey, olives are good,” Harmon says.
We all go silent, until we burst into laughter. Because of course, he would think olives are good.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Harmon
I should have taken the day off, but I had too many important meetings scheduled, including one with my lawyer about fixing this mess with Ferroix. I don’t want to put this off any longer, so I head to work after getting ninety minutes of sleep.
I’ve functioned on less. It hasn’t happened in quite some time, but I can manage. It’s one day. I’ll get plenty of sleep tonight to make up for it.
“Good morning, Mr. Stone,” Oliver says as I walk in, getting up from his seat.
“I need a coffee pot in my office ASAP,” I say.
“Sure thing.”
I make my way to my office to get settled. I’m taking my seat at the desk when Oliver comes in with a brand new coffee pot and sets it up on the small station that holds the bottle of liquor. I don’t drink often at work, but now and then, it’s needed.
“Did you want it brewing?”