Sunday, November 23, 2008

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Hi, I got your page,” Connor says smoothly into the phone, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” I say brightly. “I didn’t catch you in the middle of an appendectomy or anything, did I?”

He laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. “No, I’m on a break for a few minutes actually.”

“Listen, I’m not going to be able to see you tonight… I’m so sorry,” I apologize, switching my cell phone to my other ear. “I have to fly out to Madrid for a meeting with a gallery first thing tomorrow morning. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Connor says easily. “I’m glad you called, actually. I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I just… I know you said you were fine, but are you really? Fine?”

I smile at the attentive sound of his words. “I’m fine. I just had a little crazy girl breakdown. Don’t mind me.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” I say. “Believe me, if you weren’t in my life, I’m pretty sure I’d been even crazier girl.”

“I might actually like to see that,” he says, his voice teasing.

“Hey, I got some good news today,” I say, cradling the phone to my ear, not wanting to break the connection between us.

“What’s that?”

“I got a promotion,” I say happily. “I’m going to be given more responsibility in crafting art deals, getting to make more contacts, things like that. I’m pretty excited about it – I just found out.”

“I hope there’s a huge bump in your salary that comes with it,” Connor says, his voice lightly teasing. “That way you can buy your own Porsche, turn into my sugar mama.”

I laugh out loud. “Oh, darn it. That’s what I was relying on you for, old man. Keepin’ me in diamonds and limos for the rest of my days.”

“Daddy’s gonna need some sugar for that to happy, little one,” he fires back, his voice husky and still teasing, and I giggle again.

“When I get home, how about you, me, and a bottle of chocolate sauce in bed? Would that do for your sugar?” I ask, clearing my throat as a fellow agent walks by, just out of earshot.

“Oh great,” Connor moans. “Now I’m going to be seeing patients for the rest of the day while picturing you with chocolate sauce dripping down your…”

He cuts off abruptly, and I laugh as I hear him clear his throat, obviously having been approached by a nurse to ask for some information.

“Okay, well, if that condition doesn’t clear up in a few days, let me know and I’ll write you a prescription,” Connor says smoothly into the phone, and I laugh again.

“Nurse still over your shoulder?”

“Uh huh.”

“Would it be a bad time to mention the whipped cream?”

I hear a strangled moan on the other end of the line, and I snort with laughter.

“You know what?” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are so going to pay for that.”

“I gotta go. My flight leaves in a little while. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll miss you, and have a safe trip.”

“Talk to you soon,” I say, not wanting to hang up.

“I love you,” he whispers, and I smile.

“I love you too,” I reply. “Old man.”


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