His Little Sunshine by Della Cain

Chapter Eleven

Brad

I stared at the little elephant sitting on my nightstand next to my cow. I’d been home three days and still hadn’t mustered the courage to call him. An argument ran constantly in my mind. Call him. Don’t call him. Does he really want me to? Do I? Well, of course I did…

He had been everything I could ever ask for and more. And maybe that was it. What if it was the magic of the night, and now that he had time to think about it, that magical spell was over?

I grabbed my phone and texted Declan to be sure he wasn’t stuck in traffic and running late. He had voice to text, so would be hands-free in replying. We had a meeting with the station about new projects. They had one they were very excited about, which more often than not was nothing Declan was interested in. But who knew? Maybe this one would be the perfect project.

My phone buzzed almost immediately. You never called Quinn.

Not at all the answer to my question, so I returned the favor, ignoring his statement. No point addressing it since it was a fact.

His next text was, Coffee?

We often picked up our brews at a little place near the station before meetings, so I replied, Sure, and grabbed my keys, giving my art one last look. I loved those animals. He’d made them for me. For all I knew, he drew them for everyone, but that didn’t make those any less special. They were still drawn just for me.

To my surprise, Declan was standing outside my building.

I stepped into the early sunshine. “I’d have buzzed you up.”

“Good morning to you, too.” He rolled his eyes at me. “I want to come up with a game plan before our meeting.”

I hadn’t been expecting that. I figured he’d be at me ghosting Quinn, which I wasn’t. But still. “Coffee?” I reminded him. If game plans were being made, I needed some.

“Along the way.” He started toward the bus stop, not the parking garage. “Holden dropped me off,” he explained. “He’s going to meet us for lunch.”

Us, not him. I didn’t bother asking about it, though, too focused on what needed to be discussed that had him waiting to pounce the second I stepped out of my building. It had to be important for him to come right to my place.

“Want me to drive?” I hated driving in the city, but I would.

“I like the bus.” He shrugged. “Besides, then we can get a head start on our discussion. I want to convince them to film in Cedarville.”

“Cedarville? Since when are they even considering something in a town that tiny?” Usually they wanted to be in a place with prestige and wealth. That way they could justify the expenses. Cedarville was near Holden’s and very much not upscale.

“It is the birthplace of someone really famous.” I noticed he didn’t say who, but he wouldn’t. Not with people around us. “Anyway, the location I have in mind is close to my home and would include some really amazing design opportunities. It even has a hidden room. Best of all—I could easily turn it into a whole season’s worth of episodes.”

“Meaning you could spend your nights in your own bed.”

“Exactly.” That happened so rarely with the show. Aside from a year when we did a series about our city specifically, it tended to be us in long-stay hotels, eating delivery and missing our own mattresses.

“I’m in. Tell me how to make it happen…and you’re buying the coffee.”

He chuckled as we reached the bus stop.

Five minutes later, we were on our way to the office. Coffee in hand, we sat with the powers that be. Declan and I were prepared to use all our powers of persuasion to sway them from their original choice of a historic brownstone, but they caved much faster than I’d expected. It wasn’t even the history of Declan’s proposed home’s owners that did it. Nope. The local B&B a town over had been featured on another show on the network. They were all excited about getting to stay there and film crossover people. Whatever worked because a Declan at home was a happy Declan.

After we’d spent a few hours hashing out a broad outline for the show, we went outside to wait for a rideshare to meet Holden for lunch. I rolled my shoulders, easing the tension of the intense morning. Good. But still intense. “I’m guessing you have ideas aplenty.”

He stared ahead of him, probably more tired out by the session than me. “Some. I didn’t want to get my hopes up much. Speaking of hopes up…Quinn was hoping you’d call.”

I knew we’d get back around to that, but I still wasn’t prepared with a reply.

“He likes you.”

“And I like him.” Too much maybe. “I was going to call or text or whatever. I just didn’t know what to say.”

He held out his hand for my phone.

“You’re not going to do a Cyrano de Bergerac, are you?” Because that would be worse. “I’ll do it.”

I huffed and pulled up his number and typed away. I didn’t text because I didn’t know what to say, not because I didn’t want to. Sorry.

“What did you write?” Declan tried to look over my shoulder, and I made it easy for him, turning the phone around. “He’ll appreciate you being so blunt.”

“Blunt? Did it sound rude?” My father used to call me blunt quite often, his way of saying I was being somehow inappropriate.

“No. Just open and honest.” He pointed to a blue car pulling to the curb. “This is us.”

The traffic was horrible midday, giving us time to talk about everything but my message and to allow me to worry pretty much nonstop about why Quinn hadn’t responded yet.

Quinn was running a ranch. Logic said he was doing something that required his attention and didn’t allow for him to just be social. But the insecure part of me perseverated on all the ways I’d managed to botch this up.

Everything had been so perfect that night, and I had to go and freeze up, not bothering to even say I had his number. And worse, I hadn’t left mine, even though the whole elephant-never-forgets thing probably was his way of asking for it. Fairly clear in hindsight.

“Don’t be mad.” Declan reached for the door handle. “Holden and I were invited, and we thought maybe… If you don’t want to be here, that’s fine.”

I looked out and wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first. “Is there lunch?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “There’s lunch.”

We thanked the driver, and I climbed out of the car behind him. “You going to tell me where we are?”

“We’re meeting my friend Marion to talk about a fundraiser she’s organizing.” Work but for free. I could handle that. Work I knew how to do. It was everything else I sort of floundered at.

Holden met us at the door. “He came.” Why did he sound surprised?

“It’s a lunch meeting.” Declan shrugged it off. “Let’s go eat.”

We walked up to the door and, just as we arrived, it opened and we were greeted by the woman he mentioned, Marion. So far, nothing felt too sketchy. But then, she told us that since the place was technically not open, we could keep our phones as long as they were turned off, and the pieces started to fall into place.

We were at the club he mentioned more than once, claiming I should come with him for research. At the time, I’d bought that excuse. Why else would he want me to come? But, given Holden’s hint about the playdate, and some comments Declan had made over the past few months, I knew the real why. He thought I was little. And maybe I was, but going to a club was a huge step and not one to have sprung on a person.

I dug my heels in. “Declan?”

“It’s just lunch,” he reassured me. “No one else is here.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I wouldn’t do that to you. But we need you in on this.”

Of course he wouldn’t. I just needed to center myself.

“Your phone,” Holden reminded me, and I shut it down.

Marion led the way inside. There was something so warm and welcoming about her while at the same time, she gave off this I’m in charge and don’t mistake my warmth as weakness vibe. I immediately loved her.

I don’t know what I was expecting. We arrived in an office. It was all so…so normal. If anything, it was more elegant than a traditional office. There weren’t any whips hanging from the walls or anything, but my imagination had gone wild as we strolled through the corridor on our way there.

“I’m so glad you were able to come today.” She had a table all set up for a formal lunch, complete with cloth napkins and fancy plates. It felt nothing like a business meeting aside from the desk that told us we were in an office. “Have a seat, and I’ll let them know my guests have arrived.”

She called someone as we took our seats. I was not a tagalong. There were four place settings, so Marion had expected me. The question was, why?

“Lunch will be here in ten minutes. In the meantime, let’s discuss my idea.” Out of seemingly nowhere, she produced and handed each of us a folder. “I still like to keep things a bit old-fashioned.”

I took mine, which had my name on it. This was intentional.

“As most of you know, our big adoption day is coming up in a few months. Each year, we raise money for a different cause. This year, I’d love to support a scholarship program. All of the information about the organization I’ve selected is inside. That’s not why I asked you here.”

I had so many questions, but I forced myself to just listen.

“I was hoping to woo you into helping with some very specific donations.” There was a knock on the door announcing lunch.

She called them in, and we were served braised sea scallops with a pomegranate glaze. If this was how she wooed, I doubted she ever failed. It was delicious and, as we ate, the conversation shifted toward how things were at the ranch and with the television studio and the weather. Everyone else seemed to be having a good time, but, of course, my brain didn’t allow me to relax. I was still focused on what the donations were.

Once the plates were cleared and dessert sat before us, I couldn’t help but blurt out what had kept me from fully enjoying my meal. “What donations do you need?” Declan was used to me and, at this point, Holden was, too. And, Marion? She just took it in stride. Which was good because that one question had the power to stay in my head rent-free until it was answered.

“Two, actually. One was that I thought a day on the ranch might appeal to the city folks.”

I had to agree with her on that one. Country life fascinated city people.

“Done.” Holden didn’t even appear to think twice. “We can make it a weekend. They can stay at the main house in our guest rooms and get the full experience.”

“Fabulous.” She indicated our flan. “Eat up.”

I slid the spoon through the creamy goodness. It reminded me of the dessert my grandmother used to make. Not as good because nothing beats a memory but delicious nonetheless. But after a couple of bites, I set down my spoon, waiting to hear the rest.

“As for the other donation, I was hoping I could convince you two to offer up some sort of design package.”

It was a great idea. Declan and I were very high-end and sought after in our niche. People would bid high for that. If we had time in the schedule.

I turned to Declan, who was still enjoying his dessert and not even pretending to answer.

“Can we fit this in?” I finally asked, since he wasn’t making a move to answer.

“We’ll do it.” He smiled brightly at Marion. “I didn’t want to pressure Brad into it, but since he’s all in…” He got that from my question. Whatever. He wasn’t wrong. It would be fun and could result in boosting our client base.

“Excellent.” Marion picked up her spoon. “If you write up what you’re willing to offer for the package, I’ll take care of the rest.”

With that settled, so was my mind, and I placed a spoonful of creamy caramel custard in my mouth and let it sit on my tongue. It was awfully good.

Once the dishes were cleared, Marion insisted on giving me a tour. Holden and Declan had been here enough times that they added little tidbits as we went. The place was much larger than I thought it would be. For some reason, in my head, it had tiny rooms where horny people watched other horny people do things. It was nothing like that…at all. And maybe it was the lack of guests, but there was a safeness to the space.

The private dressing areas intrigued me on a design level. One was an accurate recreation of a movie star’s dressing room from an old movie. I’d seen the film as a teenager and remembered it well. My fingers itched to stroke the fluffy boa casually tossed over the chaise lounge, but I controlled myself.

Another room had a changing table. Yet, another looked like it jumped out of the seventies with framed posters on the walls and an actual rattan papasan chair in one corner. There was something for everyone, including those who preferred a small locker room.

“You have a beautiful eye for design,” I complimented Marion.

“Why, thank you. I do enjoy it, although, unlike you, I need to hire people to put my general ideas together. You’re the ones with the gifts.” She brushed past us, and we followed her to another door. Even though it was shut, I could tell it was the little room. The door was brightly painted with various fluffy animals. It looked like a fairly new addition, and the artist had managed to get the youthful feel I’m sure Marion expected.

“This is our Little Room. We’ve done a lot to expand it as our community of littles and middles grows.” She opened the door. “You’re welcome to look around.”

I hadn’t planned to. Just saying thank you and moving on to the next place sounded like a better way to go. But then Declan and Holden went in, as did Marion, and it was stay in the hallway being rude or walk on in. I really wanted to see it.

My work had me creating spaces with specific people in mind. This? This was different. It would give me a glimpse of the universal things people might want.

Maybe it will show me what I want.

I sucked in a deep breath and stepped inside. I could do this. It was work, right?

It didn’t feel like work. It felt like so much more.