“Is he hot?” Monica asked.
Washing down the bite of cupcake with coffee, Brigit shook her head. “No, definitely not—”
“Oh, yeah,” Shaniqua said. “And successful, too.”
“Enough, you’re killing me!” Biting back the smile, Brigit headed into her kitchen.
Shaniqua laughed. “Could those two dress, or what? Did you see the diamond cufflinks on Dez?”
Brigit grabbed an envelope off her counter, her checkbook from her drawer, and returned to the dining room. “How ‘bout we talk college? But first, presents!” She placed the envelope in front of the birthday girl and slipped back into her chair.
As Monica opened the card, a check and a gift card slid out.
“That check is for your—”
“I know. Savings.” Monica hugged Brigit. “Thank you!” She flashed the Nordstrom gift card. “My favorite store.”
Brigit opened her checkbook. “Since you’ve started applying to colleges, I’ll help with application fees.”
Shaniqua shook her head. “You’re already doing too much by contributing to her college fund.”
“Monica kept up her end of our deal. Now it’s my turn.” Brigit handed Shaniqua the check.
A year before Brigit had met them, Monica’s dad, Harlan Hall, a twelve-year veteran of the Arlington County police force, had been killed in the line of duty. Mother and daughter fell on hard times. The once straight-A student lost her way and her failing grades reflected her grief. When Brigit learned of Monica’s interest in college, she offered to help fund her education if Monica could refocus her energies into schoolwork. The motivator had worked.
Brigit patted Shaniqua’s hand, then said to Monica, “Let’s pack your edible bouquet to share with your friends.”
“Thanks!” Monica said. “Are you coming to my party tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, but I can’t stay too long. I have to prepare for a big presentation.”
“For that handsome, intelligent, stylish dresser.” Shaniqua winked at her daughter.
After goodbye hugs, Brigit cleaned up, then got busy analyzing Colton’s limping portfolio. She had one shot to blow him away and she was damn well going to do just that.
On Mondays,if Brigitarrived at work by nine thirty, her week was off to a rousing start. But this Monday, her ass was firmly rooted in her office chair by seven. An hour later, Seth’s smug grin further spurred her moxie.
After work, rather than eating a bowl of cereal or ordering carryout and drinking too much wine, she cooked a healthy meal and made a pot of coffee. She pored over her Mitus presentation until two in the morning, then began her workday again four hours later.
While doing a run-through at home on Thursday evening, she received a text from Taylor Hathaway, Colton’s raven-haired assistant.How much time do you need for tomorrow’s presentation?
Ninety minutes. Doesn’t include Q&A, she texted back.
Colton has a late add.
She harrumphed. “Figures. Time to eliminate the middleman.” She texted,Does Colton know how to use a phone?
Five minutes later, his number lit up her cell phone. Though tempted to hit the red button and give him a taste of his own medicine, she needed to hear him ask forherhelp again, so she tapped the green one. “So, you can use a phone.” She spoke softly. “What a relief.”
“No, someone had to dial it for me.” His quiet, husky voice sent delicious tingles through her. She pressed the phone closer and their conversation turned intimate.
“Why does that not surprise me?” She bent her knee and rested her bare foot on the dining room chair.
“Confirming you need an hour and a half.”
Her mind shorted. “Excuse me?”
“Tomorrow’s presentation, Brigit.” He paused. “What did you think I was talking about?”