Page 154 of Rhodes

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you called.”

The words are out before I decide whether they should be. There is a pause on the other end.

“Me too.”

She hangs up first. I keep the phone in my hand for another second before the dock supervisor calls my name. Then I put it back in my pocket and walk toward him.

By the time I get back to the hotel, I am tired enough that the collar of my shirt feels personal.

I loosen my tie in the elevator, kick off my shoes inside the room, and strip down to my undershirt and suit pants before opening my laptop at the small desk by the window.

Tallulah’s email is waiting with Dale’s supplier list attached. She also sent a spreadsheet with quantities, pickup locations, and notes on what each place can guarantee. She added access measurements for Oak Moss, the staging area, and the delivery windows they can work around.

She did exactly what I asked.

I spend twenty minutes comparing the supplier locations against two carriers Nero has used on smaller Gulf and Southeast loads, then another fifteen checking the numbers one of them emailed back before I left Tampa.

It is not locked down yet, but it's close enough that I am ninety percent sure I can consolidate three suppliers, keep the freight from getting stupid, and have everything in Charleston before the end of January.

I told her tomorrow afternoon. I look at the clock and then at my phone. There's no reason to make her wait just because I gave myself more time than I needed.

She answers on the third ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You got a second?”

“Sure. Libba and I are watching something terrible on Netflix.”

A voice in the background says, “It is not terrible.”

Tallulah laughs. “She disagrees.”

“I’ll be quick. I think I can make it work.”

There is a pause, then her voice changes. “Seriously?”

“Nothing is booked yet, so don’t start celebrating, but I found a way to pull from three suppliers and consolidate most of it before it gets to Charleston. If the numbers hold tomorrow, I should be able to get everything there before the end of January without the freight eating you alive.”

“That fast?”

“The shell already exists. I’m not growing oysters for you.”

“Still impressive. You know I'm a hustler, and I couldn't pull it off.”

“I have hidden talents.”

“I remember.”

The words land between us before either of us can pretend they did not. Tallulah clears her throat.

“So what happens next?”

“I have a meeting in Charleston later this week anyway. Nero has a client there, and the logistics company I want to use is local, so I’m going to sit down with them while I’m there and make sure the numbers and timing actually work.”

“Oh,” she says, then pauses. “I’m still here in Charleston through the weekend.”