Page 21 of Elijah’s Whim

Sure, construction projects hit snags—and sometimes came to complete grinding halts—but this one had seen its share of challenges, and it was incredible that the budget and timeline to completion hadn’t been completely blown to hell.

“You should be taking more credit for this than you are,” Grant said, still pacing along the wall of windows.

“How so? It’s been about ten days since I’ve been on-site.”

“Ever since a certain hot blonde moved in? Speaking of that, what did you tell Shawna? Did you have to get a restraining order?” The tall guy laughed when he asked the last question, but nothing about that topic was amusing.

Shit, if he only knew.

I shot my eyes to Bas, who had excused himself to take a phone call while we waited for the young architect to arrive. From what we could hear from this end of the conversation, he was talking to his sister, Pia.

“What’s up? Why are you looking at him?”

“I just don’t want him giving his opinion on this too.”

“Which part?”

“All of it,” I muttered. “You know how he gets about club girls. If he knew she was coming to my house, he’d launch into a twenty-minute speech about privacy and security, and Christ”—I raked my fingers back through my hair—“my ears would be bleeding by the time he was done.”

“I really thought he’d lighten up once the kid got here, you know?” Grant waited for some sort of response from me, so I gave a quick dip of my chin in agreement. “But instead, I think he’s wound even tighter.”

“He’s got more at stake now. It makes sense when you look at it from his perspective.”

“You’re right. I know you are. He’s driving me crazy, though.”

Changing topics, because I really didn’t want Grant to drift back to Hannah or Shawna, I commented on the tardiness of our guest.

“This is so unlike Cole to be late. Normally the guy is waiting in reception like a faithful hound with his master’s end-of-day slippers.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I mean, not the eloquent simile and shit, but yeah, he’s never late,” Twombley said with a chuckle.

As if our conversation summoned the man, a knock sounded on the door across the suite. Grant was halfway across the room before I could offer to do the honors, but I stood to straighten my suit and properly greet our appointment.

Shark wrapped up his call, and we all congregated in the center of the office and exchanged pleasantries.

“Jacob! Nice to see you again,” I said, shaking hands with the man. “How was your trip? Barcelona, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, great memory, Mr. Banks,” the young architect answered while shaking my hand.

“Please. We’ve talked about this.” I sighed. “Call me Elijah.”

“Elijah, right.” He smiled apologetically, and it really was tough to be truly mad at the guy.

“And Grant, how are you? I understand congratulations are in order on your engagement.” The two men shook hands, and we all moved deeper into the office toward the conference table.

“Thank you, Jake. Can’t say I thought I’d ever be in these shoes, but they feel really good.” Grant rocked back on his heels, and the smile on his face was so wide and genuine, it was hard to not smile along with my best friend.

Bas and Jake shook hands finally, and the young man jolted as though stepping barefoot on a few Legos.

“I brought something back from Spain for the new baby,” he said excitedly, but then his expression fell. “But I left it in the hotel. And I hope I’m not overstepping with the gift in general.”

“Dude, it’s totally unnecessary,” Bas said while putting his meaty hand on the guy’s shoulder, “but appreciated nonetheless. And what do you mean, the hotel? You haven’t found a place yet?”

It was interesting to observe Sebastian interact with Jacob this way. His physical gesture of friendship and words of concern for Cole’s housing situation surprised me to the point I caught myself gawking at the exchange.

Our friend seemed to be regarding Jake in a younger brotherly way—similar to the way he acted with Pia. Of course, not nearly as intimate, because he and Jake were lacking the history he had with his actual sibling. But seeing Bas forge a relationship with someone new warmed me inside. An unidentifiable emotion filled my chest and created a tightness there that made that spot’s normal oxygen and carbon dioxide exchange quite difficult.

Was this pride? Some sort of satisfaction in knowing he got to this point on his own after so many years and so many fucked-up interactions and failed attempts at relationships with people outside our small, immediate circle?