Free Where Life Takes You by Claudia Burgoa Page B

up the table and headed to wash the dishes.
    “Whatever you want, Doctor Sarcasm.”
    I stood up and hopped to the living room to grab my iPad. I needed a picture of the pink tulips he’d brought home along with the groceries.
    “Have I ever told you I love tulips? They’re the perfect flower. They feel like home, cozy and comfortable. I know you bought them for the house, to make it look nice. But I enjoy them, so thank you.” After snapping several pictures of the bouquet, I rearranged them and began to caress their delicate petals. Tulips made me happy, especially pink ones like the ones he brought. Getting to see them on a daily basis was like the first day of summer, full of sunshine, warmth, and hope.
    “Hey, I thought of some new obligations. Add wash dishes, help tidy the house, and buy her pretty flowers often. Just because you love her.”
    “I did, and it will be done.” His cryptic comment lingered around the house.
    At ten in the morning, a crew came to the house and moved furniture around. They dismantled one of the back rooms, and the guest room, and brought office equipment for one of them and gym stuff for the other. The guest room became a gym, though the closet still held my shoes—too many to fit in Dan’s—while the other bedroom had been converted into a second office for the house. I meant to ask about the changes, but the tricky man entertained me with movies and ice cream for the rest of the day.
    On Monday, a nice, well-mannered college-aged guy named Steve came to the house. He had graduated in December, and had a master’s degree in business. Coincidentally, Dan informed me, we had an opening for an enthusiastic young assistant at the Brightmore foundation. I lifted my eyebrow and twisted my mouth to the side.
    No, Dan, I need to get rid of my current assistant. What opening are you talking about? I need to fire Chrystal, which might have to wait until I go to the office.
    Surprised to hear we’d hired him as Betsy’s assistant, starting after New Year’s, I stared at Dan. He shrugged and continued his pleasant conversation. We both understood he’d be a loan to my non-profit, for only a few weeks, until I healed. It turned out Steve was related to Betsy—she was his aunt. It answered the ten million dollar question of how they’d found him so fast. Before anyone was hired, Dan screened them from head to toe and the process took weeks.
    Steve, the new hire, had come to relieve Chrystal from her current position, and he would also handle the office while I recovered.
    “A moment, Mr. Brightmore.” I stood up, reached for my crutches, and had him follow me to my temporary office. Dan closed the door, and immediately I began my rant. “Running my show again? What happened to me taking charge? You’re unbelievable. I’m not hiring Steve, you’re not firing Chrystal. I. Am.”
    “Becca, baby, be reasonable.” His soothing voice was a trap to convince me that his doing so was in my favor. “You’re working from home until you recover, and there’s no way I’m allowing that woman to stay in the office. It will drive you crazy. Steve graduated top of his class, and comes highly recommended. Give him a chance, princess.”
    I sighed miserably, because he was right, yet it made me upset that he treated me like a fragile object a few too many times. “Fine, we’ll do it your way because there’s no way I’ll win this battle. But he better do a good job or I’ll skin you.”
    “Ouch.” He scrunched his face. “You’re on a murderous strike, baby. Are we good?”
    I narrowed my eyes and nodded. We went back to the living room where Steve and Nate sat.
    “Time to head to the foundation to set up the game plan for the next couple of months.” Dan signaled something to Nate, who grabbed my crutches while Dan lifted me and carried me to the car.
    “I can walk.”
    “I know.” He readjusted my body against his torso. “You’re getting heavy, little one. Don’t make