She eyes the items in my hand and then opens the door more to let me in.
Step one complete: I’m inside the apartment. I go to the kitchen, grab plates, and set everything out on her dining table. She takes a seat across from me, pulling one of her legs against her chest, and watches as I carefully take out each donut, put it on a platter between us, set the bag on the ground, and then hand her the coffee I know she loves—a house blend with frothed milk and a splash of caramel. She takes a sip and I hold up the plate, which bears a giant bear claw, an apple fritter, a maple Long John, and of course, the classic Boston cream. As predicted, she picks up the apple fritter and I go for the Boston cream.
“I’m really sorry, Kels. Yesterday wasn’t my best showing, but I promise, it won’t happen again. I worked all day on the website, and I have some things to show you, some things I think you’ll—”
“Karla called.”
I pause. Why do I know that name? Karla . . . Karla . . .
“Huxley’s assistant,” she offers.
“Oh . . . OH! She did? Huxley said she would. Did she set up another meeting time?”
Kelsey nods. “She did. This Friday at three. We have more time to prepare, which is nice. We can come up with a great presentation now, fine-tune everything.”
“That’s great,” I say, feeling excited. But I’m sensing Kelsey isn’t as excited as me. “What’s wrong? That’s great, right?”
“It’s wonderful.”
“Then why is your tone of voice not matching your excitement?”
She sets her coffee down and asks, “Do you know why Huxley left that meeting?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t say why, just that it was important. Oh God, was it not important?” I lean forward. “Figures he’d go and lie about something like that.”
“He wasn’t lying,” Kelsey says. “It was important. One of their properties in New York City had an electrical fire. Two men had third-degree burns, others some smoke inhalation.”
“Oh . . . God, really?” I ask, feeling myself shrink into an incredibly small version of myself. He wasn’t lying. He’d been needed for something critical. Essential.
“Yes. Karla apologized for taking so long to get back to me with rescheduling, because she and Huxley spent the rest of the day on the phone making arrangements for not only the victims themselves but also the families of the victims.” Kelsey leans forward and says, “Apparently he personally called every one of them. Then he sent their favorite meals to the hospital and to the families.”
I blink a few times, attempting to comprehend what Kelsey’s telling me. “He . . . he did?”
She nods. “Yes, he did.” She picks up her donut. “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
“To make me feel like an asshole?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m telling you this so you can lighten up around him. He’s a good guy. There might have been some headbutting between the two of you, but at some point, you need to let that go. He’s helping you, he’s helping us, and that’s something you need to be grateful for. Yesterday should’ve never happened. You know I love you, but it was completely unprofessional. There’s no way you’d have done something like that if you were still working for Angela.”
I stare down at my untouched donut and swipe at the frosting with my finger. “You’re right. I never would’ve acted that way in front of Angela or in front of prospective clients.” I’ve had a lot of time to think about my reactions throughout the night . . . well, before the orgasm, of course. And when I considered objectively how insanely ridiculous and unprofessional my behavior was, I was more than mortified. My wish had been to put my studies to use, to help Kelsey grow her business to the next level. All I could attribute my behavior to was shock. Misplaced anger. Immaturity.
“I think I’ve built this whole situation up in my head, and instead of breathing in a deep breath and taking everything thrown my way one step at a time, I’m reacting without thought.” I sigh and lean back into the chair. “I hate to throw out excuses, but this whole thing with getting fired . . . I think it’s fucking with my head. Instead of giving myself time to mourn, I’m taking out my anger on everyone around me, Huxley included.”
Kelsey nods. “That makes sense. You’ve been rather . . . edgy lately.”
I smirk. “I’m always edgy. How about more irritable?”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. “I’m really sorry, Kels. I promise, from here on out, it’ll be nothing but professionalism from me. Okay?”
“Okay.” She takes a bite of her donut. “Now show me what you’ve done with the website.”
“After I take down this donut. I didn’t eat dinner last night and I’m famished.”
“Wait, so we can sell the sustainable products straight from our website?” Kelsey asks as we both hunker down at her computer, staring at the screen.
“Yes. I just have to install this app, and we can convert all sales through the website. Mind you, we won’t make a huge profit, but it’ll be nice supplemental income, while clients get the chance to browse the products we work with. And we can sort it by how you’d use each product, so, bathroom storage, pantry, etcetera.”
“This is great.” Kelsey sits back. “Would we purchase the product wholesale?”
I shake my head. “No, I sent an email to your supplier yesterday asking if we could set up a contract where we not only use their product for every project we do, but we also become an official supplier. I explained that we have some major projects in the works and want to make sure we have a solid product base to turn to.”
“Seriously?”
I nod. “And I know it’s a small percentage, but I said if we land this big client we’ve been talking to, we would like to start talks about our own product line.”
“Stop,” Kelsey says, grabbing my hand. “Our own line?”
I grin from ear to ear. “Yup. Mind you, it’s a pipe dream, but I wanted them to know that we were going places and they’re our first option when it comes to partnering up.”
Kelsey waves her hand in front of her face. “I’m sweating. I’m legit sweating.” She faces me. “Lottie, this is huge. Holy crap, where did this all come from?”
“Well, when you feel like a failure, it’s a nice, swift kick in the ass to get moving, and that’s what I did. I got moving.”
“Wow, Lottie. I’m really impressed.” Whispering, she asks, “Have they written back?”
I chuckle. “Not yet, but I did send it late last night and it’s only ten in the morning.”
“True.” She sighs. “Wow, wow, wow, I’m really impressed. Impressed and grateful. Thank you for working hard on all of this.”
“I’m invested just as much as you are in this business. I’ve seen you bring it to where it is today, but I know there’s so much more potential, and when I have my head out of my ass, I know I can really help build it.”
With a chuckle, she asks, “How were things when you got back to his place?”
I shut the laptop and lean back in my chair. “I’m not sure you’re ready for this story.”
She crosses her legs and rubs her hands together. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready.”
And this is what I love about Kelsey. We can have a fight, resolve it, and then just like that, we’re back to our normal selves. We don’t harp on disagreements; we don’t drag them out. We apologize and we move on. Another reason why I think, in the long run, we’ll be great business partners, because we’ll be able to read each other well. But that doesn’t mean I’m not incredibly thankful for the second chance.
“So, when I got home, I was obviously in a really sour mood. I got straight to work and buried myself in the computer. Before I knew it, it was getting late and I needed to take a second to relax, so I drew a bath.”
“Oh, I’m sure he has a really nice bathtub.”
“Really nice. Jets and everything. And bath bombs. I dropped a lavender one in the water to calm me. It was really nice.”
“But . . .”