I grinned as I stopped in front of her desk.
“Morning, Sandy.”
“Jordan,” she replied with a brief nod. “Bentley’s still tied up on a call. He’ll be free in a few moments.”
“Great. I’ll grab a coffee.”
She stood. “I was getting myself one.”
“Then we can get them together.” I set down my files and followed her to the small kitchen. I admired the way her hips swayed as she walked in front of me, her scent drifting on the air as she moved. It was citrusy and light. Feminine. I liked it.
She poured two cups of coffee, handing me mine. I sipped the hot liquid with appreciation.
“You make a great cup of coffee, Sandy.”
She added some cream to her cup, stirring it. “Thanks.”
I leaned my hip on the counter, trying to appear casual. “How’s it going? We haven’t caught up in a while.”
She mimicked my stance, blowing on the hot brew before taking a sip. I tried not to notice how full her lips looked as she puckered them, but I failed. I wondered, not for the first time, how her mouth would feel underneath mine. How she would feel in my arms.
I startled when I realized she had replied, and I had missed it.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I just thought of something I needed to remember to ask Bentley.”
“No problem. I said I was fine, and yes, it’s been a while.”
I said the words before I could chicken out. “How about we rectify that?”
“Sorry?”
“Lunch. I forgot to bring my lunch today, so I was going to get something and sit in the park since it’s such a nice day. Join me, and we can catch up over a sandwich.”
She hesitated and I smiled.
“I know you’re busy—we both are. But it’s a lovely day outside, and we can take a break and share a sandwich. Catch up. I miss our coffee breaks.” I went in for the kill, remembering her words on her profile.
Seeking companionship—a friend to enjoy life’s moments with.
“We need to grab nice days like today and spend time with good friends.”
Her brow furrowed then cleared. “I’d like that.”
Internally, I high-fived myself. Outwardly, I smiled and nodded. “Great. I’ll meet you downstairs about twelve?”
“Yes.”
I turned and headed back to her desk, not wanting her to see the large grin I was sporting. I was looking forward to lunch—and whatever came after it.
Jordan
Bentley finished signing the stack of forms I had given him. “You’ve been busy, Jordan.”
I chuckled. “Not as if I had much choice. You’re acquiring projects faster than I can keep up.”
He closed the file, handing it back to me. “Is Alan not helping you enough?”
“No, he’s great. He keeps up with the filing, copying, all the small things I don’t have to worry about so I can concentrate on getting all the paperwork in place and assigning crews. Still—” I grinned “—you’re a busy man, which makes my job busy. And secure.”
Bentley relaxed back in his chair, regarding me seriously. “You never have to worry about your job, Jordan. Or your retirement.”
The partners had given me an unexpected gift on my fifty-fifth birthday. A generous retirement package I could start drawing on at sixty years of age. I hadn’t reached that milestone yet and had no interest in retiring in the near future, and the partners were quite vocal in their desire for me to stay as long as I wanted with the firm. It was typical of BAM and the men who ran the company. They looked after their own. I had never known a company as well run and generous as BAM. Bentley, Aiden, and Maddox were, in my opinion, the model all companies should strive to be. Turnover here was rare, given how well they treated their staff—right down to the IT department and the people doing the manual labor for them. No one was too small to be taken care of. I was proud to be associated with them, and as I worked with many outside companies, I knew how highly regarded they were within the business industry.
“I know and appreciate it, Bentley. You seem to be on a bit of a streak at the moment.”
He laughed, the amusement softening the sternness of his features. Known as serious and businesslike, Bentley only showed his softer side to those who knew him best—and none knew him more than his wife, Emmy, who brought out a side of Bentley I never knew existed. When his daughter was born, another side emerged—the protective, loving father. It also seemed to amplify his professional zeal, and he was constantly buying up properties and land for development. Our construction crews had grown, new foremen and workers hired on. Van and his crew had just completed the renos on a new building that would house the ever-growing group of men that now worked for BAM. Van was going to be moving to the new building, and I was going to miss him as an office mate, although I would be spending a lot of time there as well. Luckily, it was only down the block from the main building so it was a short walk and I would see him often. I was sure he’d still be here a fair deal, but the space was needed.
“I’ll try to rein myself in,” he joked. “Not sure if that will happen or not. I found another piece of property in the Niagara region. It’s not protected this time, and it would make an awesome condo project. The views will command a steep price. I have an architect working on the concept.”
There was a soft knock, then Sandy stuck her head in the door. “Bentley, your one o’clock canceled. Did you want me to get you lunch?”
He glanced at his calendar. “Please. Can you reschedule my three o’clock in earlier? Maybe I could get home and surprise Emmy. We could take Addi to the park.”
“Already done.”
He beamed at her. “Thanks, Sandy.”
“Turkey on rye?”
“Yes.”
“Jordan, I’ll get our lunch at the same time. Corned beef, hot mustard, with extra pickles on the side, right?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll get us sodas and a cookie as a treat.”
The door shut, and I turned back to Bentley, who was watching me, his eyes narrowed in curiosity.
“Having lunch with Sandy?” he asked, trying to act casual and failing. Miserably.
I nodded, gathering up my files. “Yes. It’s a lovely day. I thought we’d have a sandwich in the park. Get out of the office for a bit and clear our heads.”
“Good idea.”
“I thought so.”
“So, it’s just…lunch?”
“It’s two friends having lunch, yes.”
He drummed his fingers on the desk, then cleared his throat and tugged on his shirt sleeves. All three were tells for Bentley when he was thinking or worried.
“It’s lunch, Bentley,” I said quietly. “And anything else is private.”
“Is there something else?”
I met his gaze directly, my voice firm. “That is up to Sandy, and not something I will discuss.”
His eyebrows shot up, and then he smiled.
“I understand.”
“Good.”
I respected Bentley—all the partners—but this was private. And right now, it was nothing but lunch. The last thing either Sandy or I needed was a lecture. That would end anything before it began—that much I knew. Sandy was private and would hate it, so it wasn’t up for discussion.