seven
Most of the carousel pieces remained packed in original wooden crates from the 1940s. In one of the rooms, three people were at work cleaning and restoring an exquisitely carved lion. The female employee nodded at her when she waved, though no one spoke. But then it may have been difficult through the filter masks they wore.
There was a room set up for her to paint in. The artificial light there mimicked natural light better than anything she had ever seen. Colin must have ordered the fixtures especially for her. Nick wouldn’t have known her preferences. She turned on the air-filtration system, and a low hum filled the room. The user manual lay on one of the work tables. It was state-of-the-art hospital-grade filtration that would keep any dust out. Nick had made it very hard to turn down this job—or Colin had.
As she left the warehouse, Candace dialed Nick’s number and got voicemail. “Hi, it’s Candace. I am at the warehouse. Probably not a surprise, but I’ll take the job. Bye.” She hated leaving messages, but texting her new employer seemed too informal.
The early afternoon traffic wasn’t bad, but the congestion of the city would be the worst part of the job. The underground-parking attendant at the apartment building handed her a pass. “Parking space C11. Stop at the security. They have your keys. Have a good evening, Ms. Wilson.” Apparently Colin had been very sure she would take the job.
She pulled the large suitcase from her trunk and wished she had packed more than a couple days’ worth of clothing.
A humongous arrangement of flowers, the type sent to funeral homes, stood next to the security desk. Lavender-and-white gladiolas, mums, and lilies flowed gracefully from the vase. The family of a recently deceased resident must have donated them to the guards.
“Excuse me. I was told I could pick up my keys here?”
A uniformed guard or doorman—Candace wasn’t sure if there was a distinction as she didn’t see a weapon—double-checked his monitor. “Ms. Wilson? May I see your ID?” Again, he must have been expecting her as he knew her name.
Candace handed over her driver’s license. He barely looked at it before handing it back with an electronic key. “I just need you to sign here.” He handed her a tablet she signed with her finger.
The guard took the tablet back. “These flowers are for you. Should I have someone deliver them to your apartment?”
“For me?”
The guard handed her a florist’s card.
Candace opened it.
Congratulations. Colin.
The impersonal computer type lent no warmth to the generic message and funeral display.
Candace started laughing the kind of laugh that usually came at 2:00 a.m. after a week of finals. The kind that didn’t stop easily and brought tears to your eyes. Only Colin could manage to send congratulatory funeral flowers. She caught her breath. “Yes, if you could have someone bring them up.” She tried not to laugh all the way to the elevator. Once inside and alone, she let the laughter bubble out. She started to text the group and realized she had forgotten to take a photo. The text would have to wait.
The apartment looked different than when Abbie had lived there. The ultramodern furniture in the living room had been replaced with softer, more traditional pieces. The bed was made up with only a set of sheets. A gift card to a bed-and-bath store lay were the pillow should be, along with a note.
Extra blankets in the closet. Get something you like. C
The buzzer rang. Candace opened the door, the flower arrangement half obscuring the uniformed delivery man. He set the monstrosity just far enough inside that he could close the door behind him as he left. She tried to move it into the living room and nearly toppled it, sending her into another fit of laughter.
As she collapsed into the comfy chair, her phone rang and Nick’s number flashed on the screen. Candace took several deep breaths before swiping the answer button.
“Hello?” She heard the laughter in her own voice.
“Candace, are you okay?”
She took a deep breath. “Sorry, Nick. I was laughing when I answered.”
“Well, I’ll just assume you are happy to be working for me.”
“I am.”
“Good. Rick Rosenberg from Rosenberg Restoration is the project manager. He can meet you there at nine tomorrow to go over the project. According to Rick, there are specific paints that should be used. Also, you’ll need to see if you can work with him since he is your real boss.”
“Do you normally get this involved in your projects?”
“This one is special, so I am more involved than usual. Don’t worry, though. I won’t be sticking my nose in too much, and other than when I am already scheduled to be in the area, I won’t be dropping in.”
“Wasn’t exactly worried about that.” If she knew Nick better, Candace would have brought up the subject of her cousin. Zoe’s calls and texts had been too vague on the subject of Nick.
“At the moment I don’t intend to be in the Chicago area until Daniel’s New Year’s party.”
“Hopefully in four months there will be something to show you.”
“I look forward to it.”
The call ended. Candace used her phone to capture a photo of the flowers.
Her thumb hovered over the Send button. The photo was funny, but it might be seen as making fun of Colin. Candace hit the trash icon instead and sent a different message.
Candace: Took the job. Colin sent me flowers to congratulate me.
Mandy: Photo?
Candace: Sorry. A photo won’t do these flowers justice.
Tessa: Has he ever sent you flowers before?
Candace: No. But they were just a way of saying congrats. But since he is also taking me out to dinner, unnecessary.
Abbie: Flowers are never unnecessary.
Candace: I’d better get ready.
Mandy: Have fun at dinner.
Candace checked her makeup in the mirror and reapplied eyebrow pencil. She must have rubbed some of it off during the drive. She was already wearing one of her natural colored wigs since she didn’t know who she might meet looking at the warehouse and spiky pink hair or a plumb bob wasn’t always the best first impression. Colin hadn’t taken her out before, at least not alone. He wasn’t paralyzed in social situations; however, he probably didn’t need people staring at her hair and then at him. She was used to the stares, although the last couple years as more women colored their hair in tones of blue and crimson, fewer strangers stopped to look. However, Colin shunned attention, and so she kept the plain wig on.
The doorbell rang, and Candace’s heart sped up. She took a calming breath, telling herself it was silly to get worked up over Colin.
Colin smoothed the front of his plaid shirt—not too laid back like his favorite T-shirts, yet it didn’t require a tie. Finding his hands were sweaty, he was shoving them into his jean pockets to wipe them off just as Candace answered the door. She wore the same understated wig she had at Tessa’s wedding.
“Come in.”
Part of the hallway was blocked by a giant display of flowers. He carefully edged around them.
“Thank you for the flowers. Would you help me move them over by the window?”
“I sent you these?”
Candace raised one painted brow at him. “The card was signed, or rather typed, ‘Colin.’ So I assume they are from you. Didn’t you order them?”
“Sabrina did.”
“Is there something I should know about Sabrina?”
“She is the AI I told you I was working on.” Sabrina was in for some serious reprogramming.
“The home-helper thing? Sorry to say this, but I think she failed this task. Or she is trying to send one of us a message.” Candace smiled and pointed to the other side of the arrangement. “Lift that side. Let’s put it to the right of the sliding door.”
“I haven’t programmed Sabrina with any dark humor, so I am hoping it was just a misunderstanding.”
“At least she got the color right, and it does smell nice.”
Her smile didn’t make him feel any better about the blunder. Even he would have chosen something that didn’t look like a funeral spray. “I’m sorry. I meant it to be more like the ones Daniel sent Mandy after the internet blew up with the dating stuff.”
“Those flowers were impressive. But I like what you sent.”
“You don’t need to make me feel better about the mistake.” Colossal blunder. Colin wanted to knock himself in the head. Funeral flowers. After their conversation on the plane, he had been stupid enough to let Sabrina order the flowers. Even a bridal bouquet would have been better.
“I’m not, unless it turns out this job doesn’t work for me. Then I would have to call it a sign.”
“I’m really sorry. I can get you something else.” Next time he would just order a dozen roses. Even an AI couldn’t get that wrong. But the wrong color could send a message that would be worse than funeral arrangements. No wonder Daniel used to have Bonnie order flowers for him. It would be worth the consulting fee to order the right flowers next time.
Candace patted his arm. “They wouldn’t be nearly as memorable. But there are some things you might not want to leave to your AI.”
“I tried to ask for dinner recommendations, and Sabrina—” He couldn’t tell her about the date recipes or she would know this was a date.
“Recommended the golden arches?”
His phone vibrated. “Something like that. Are you ready? My chauffeur is downstairs.”
Candace nodded.
Colin wasn’t sure if he should offer her his arm since this was a date, but he decided against it. His palms were sweaty again anyway. He hoped the evening wouldn’t get any worse than the funeral flowers.
Mr. Alexander stood in the lobby, his muscled arms bulging under his short-sleeved polo shirt, a frown on his face. Alexander Hastings, Alex to his friends and Mr. to his clients, headed Daniel Crawford’s security team.
Candace stopped short. “Is something wrong, Alex?”
“Nothing we can’t solve. Mr. Crawford informed me Mr. Ogilvie forgot to put a security detail in place for his night out. Where were you planning on going?”
Colin mumbled the name of the restaurant like a teenage boy caught sneaking out his window. A security detail was an everyday occurrence for most billionaires, but Colin wasn’t most. His reclusive lifestyle meant he spent most of his time at home or in the office. Any social events he attended were usually in the company of Daniel, who had a full detail at all times. Work-related events were handled by the office, and his mother’s people dealt with family things. Candace must think he was a dork not to have even thought about it.
“At least you chose someplace easy. Tell your driver to take the long route to give me time to get there.” Alex opened the door to the stairwell and had descended half the steps to the parking garage before the door shut behind him.
“I am a bit rusty at this go-to-the-food thing. I usually just order in.” Colin waited while Candace got into the car. “I guess I need to remember to tell someone my plans.”
“I’ve only seen you out with Daniel and his team. Do you even have a head of your personal security?”
“I must. I just have never thought about it.” He leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Jim, do I have a head of security?”
“You have me, sir. For most of your activities I am enough, but I can’t call in full detail. That must be requested from Hastings.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Colin sat back. “I guess I do.”
Candace laid her hand on his arm. Every hair stood at attention. “I am glad you don’t have to spend too much time worrying about it.”
Maybe they could skip the restaurant. Sitting in the back seat with Candace was enough for him. And he wouldn’t have to worry about a security detail or the other people at the restaurant. Next time he would choose something much less public. Only that might not be a good idea. Hadn’t he read something about a woman’s need to be seen publicly with a man? It didn’t matter how much Nick or Daniel had helped him, the sense of impending doom that Colin would mess up this dating attempt followed him into the restaurant.