The Mirror - Page 184

“Good.” Cleo stopped dancing long enough to shoot out a vicioussmile. “I say that’s good. And don’t think for a second you got this account because of that.”

“I probably would have thought that, but she told me I didn’t. She said if they’d gone with By Design, they’d have stipulated he be removed from the team.”

“I like her. Give me thirty years to grow up into her. Text your mom, text everybody! We’re going to celebrate tonight. I’ll figure out how after coffee.”

“Would you bring me a Coke when you come back?”

“Can do.”

When she did, Sonya paced her office. “I can’t seem to sit yet. Mom’s over the moon, maybe three times over it. Trey said they’re picking us up at seven. Dinner at the hotel’s fancy restaurant.”

“I’m all in on that.”

“This isn’t how I thought I’d spend my morning. I was running tests, then I intended to stop them when you came out so I could grill you about Owen.”

Cleo’s lips curved in a slow, satisfied smile.

“I know that face, so things went well there, despite the disruption.”

“Oh, Dobbs can stick it. I’m pleased to say things went exceptionally well there, twice, before the disruption.”

“I thought he was going home last night.”

“So did he.” With a laugh, Cleo smoothed a hand over her hair. “I changed his plans. You’re okay with this, aren’t you, Son?”

“I love you both. I’ve loved you a lot longer, but I love you both. Still, if he hurts you, I’ll…” Eyes narrowed, Sonya punched her right fist into her left open palm.

“You know, Son, you and Owen have a lot of similar traits. Now, since it’s another gorgeous day, I’m going to put myself together and paint outside.”

Sonya picked up her phone when it rang. “It’s Burt.”

Cleo blew her a kiss and walked away.

Once she finished the call with Burt, she cried again. Then she washed her face, drank her Coke, and got back to work.

She couldn’t and wouldn’t neglect her other clients because she’d just netted the big fish.

Toward the end of the day, Bree sent her the finalized menu, with vendors for each dish, for the open house in an email attachment.

Bree’s message was:

Discuss again if you have to, but this is what you want. Gotta go out if you want a blowout!

Damn right they wanted a blowout, especially now.

She printed two copies, carried one into Cleo’s room to lay it on the bed beside what she assumed was Molly’s choice of a short, sexy, lipstick-red number.

On her own bed she found the flirty periwinkle with its low back that Cleo and her mother had talked her into buying in Boston.

“If not now, when?” she decided, and further decided the dress, and the night, called for her curling iron.

When she went back to Cleo’s room, her friend sat and slipped on her shoes. “Winter and I had it right with that dress.”

“You did. And Molly picked a winner for you. Did you have a chance to look at the menu?”

“I did, and it gets a big wow. We could probably have done it, in at least twice the time and with considerable headaches and anxiety.”

“Agree. So that’s the discussion. I’ll let her know it’s a full-out go. How’s the painting going?”