She turned to leave and I followed her out of my office and down the hall. We reached my father’s door and she gave me a pat on the shoulder and a small smile before disappearing around the corner.
Alice had always been more to Kari and me than just Dad’s secretary. We had always seen her as a family friend or an aunt of sorts. But after our mother’s passing, Alice stepped up to the plate. She took care of everything, but gave us all room to grieve—especially me.
The seventh day of March, my birthday, would always be a rough day. There would be no celebrations, no parties, no festivities from my fourteenth birthday on. It would always be a sad day for me.
It would always be the day my mother died.
A stay-at-home mom that made homemade dinners, played Candyland, and volunteered her time at a local women’s shelter, Anne Stanley was the ideal mother; Kari and I were the center of her life. Not having her left a tremendous void, but Alice tried to fill it as best as she could. Not in a disingenuous way, but because she had loved our mother, too. She baked cookies for our bake sales, picked us up from school when we were sick, and I’m fairly certain she wrapped our Christmas presents every year.
She kept things from spiraling out of control.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” I looked across the room at my father. He was handsome, with rugged features and a charismatic smile. He was an astute businessman, but always a father first. There was never any doubt that Kari and I were his first priority.
“Good morning, Jada.” He looked up from a stack of papers in his hands. “I hope you are ready to jump in head first.”
“Is there any other way?” Excitement started to build inside me as I took my seat across from his desk. I loved work and the challenge of making things happen. It was in my bones.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly. “We had a call come in this morning about listing a property in Scottsdale. It’s a commercial building for a new client. It’s known as Solomon Place. They asked that we get up there today and get the ball rolling.” He sat the papers on the desk. “It’s a good thing you showed up to work today instead of next week.”
“And why is that?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“They asked for you.”
“They? Asked for me?” I was baffled. “That makes absolutely no sense, Dad. No one even knows I’m in town.” I racked my brain for a connection, but came up short.
“Do you know someone named Max Quinn?”
The fog began to lift. “I think so.”
“Well, Mr. Quinn asked for you to meet him at the property this morning. I typically like to handle new clients and accounts this expensive myself, but I trust you.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “If you are ready, of course.”
“I’d love to do it. That’s why I am here, right?”
“Here’s the address,” he said, scooting a piece of paper across the table. “Alice has the rest of the information you’ll need.”
An hour later, I pulled up in front of a one story commercial building at the address listed on the paper. It was stucco and discreet, but fairly large and on the outskirts of Scottsdale.
I was excited to get started, to kick off this new phase of my life. But an undercurrent of confusion coursed through me.
What did Max have to do with it?
Stepping out of my Jeep, I took in a hasty breath. The temperature overtook me as the hair on the back of my neck became damp with sweat. Dry heat my ass. I quickly made my way to the front of the building, ignoring the construction workers that were obviously watching me from the building next door.
Looking through the glass, I didn’t see anyone. The door was unlocked, it was hot, and the address matched, so I went on in.
“Hello?” I called out into the space. “Is anyone here?”
I was met with silence, save the faint sound of the air conditioner working overtime.
The building looked to have been empty for a while. The floors were dusty and there were odds and ends of office furniture scattered throughout the large entry room, but otherwise it was vacant.
“Hello? Max?” I announced again, peeking into one of the cubicles lining the side wall. A sound cracked from a back room and my heart jumped to my throat in surprise. I laughed softly and headed towards the sound, hoping that it was Max and not a murderer.
As I cautiously approached the doorway, I could hear someone inside. I rounded the corner and stopped abruptly, my heart skipping a beat.
He was sitting at the desk in the back of the room, his head resting in the palm of one of his hands. I could see his fingers pressing against the sandy colored strands as if in thought. His watch caught the light and sent a prism of color onto the wall.
He looked so out of place—so large and powerful in the small, drab area. It was a play on opposites—excellence meeting mediocrity.
He hadn’t heard me arrive, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading, and I took a second to steady myself before I caught his attention. Just looking at him was enough to take my breath away.
I briefly considered sneaking out before he saw me, but remembered that I was there on business.