rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. “Come on, Devon. You know me better than that.”
He laughed. “I’m just teasing you. Thanks for the compliment, though.”
She leaned in, dropped her voice as if there were someone else in the room. “Listen, just between me and you, is Captain Vicious coming back for the third movie?”
He laughed again at her question. “You’re like the fiftieth person to ask me that.” The character, a villain in the DD series, was played by veteran actor Rick Rollingsworth. Rick, a contemporary of Samuel L. and Denzel, was about as well loved as a man of color in Hollywood could expect to be. “At least ten people asked me that between the baggage claim and the rental car counter.”
“We’re friends, though. So, are you gonna tell me?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. The nondisclosure agreement in my contract is in full effect.” He knew Captain Vicious would indeed be making a return but couldn’t risk his standing with the studio by telling her that. “You’ll have to find out with everybody else when the movie drops in May.”
She sighed. “Oh, well. I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can wait till Memorial Day.” She stood and he took time to appreciate his view of her. The sweater, jeans and tall boots encased her shapely figure in a way he found very attractive, but not overly revealing. The dark ringlets of her hair were pinned on top of her head, revealing the lines of her face. Her high cheekbones, full lips and sparkling brown eyes were all marks of her beauty, and of the Monroe blood flowing through her veins. Today, Hadley looked much as her mother, Viola, had looked twenty years ago, when they were kids.
A few long, silent moments passed between them before she seemed to notice his scrutiny. Her cheeks filled with a rosy blush, the glittering eyes shifting to the window behind him. Straightening, she began to run through the speech she usually gave him when he checked in to the unit. “The groceries you requested for the first week are already in the kitchen. You have plenty of fresh linen in the closet upstairs, and the housekeeping service will stop by every other day to do laundry and dishes for you...”
He smiled, putting up his hand to stop her rambling. “Thanks, Hadley. I got it.”
She shifted her gaze away from his face, running her hand over the red ribbon securing the gift basket. “Is there anything else you’ll need?”
He fought the urge to give her one of the many cheeky answers that came to mind. Shaking his head, he said, “No, but if I think of something I’ll give the office a call.”
She crossed the room toward the front door, passing him as she moved. “Well, I’ll stop pestering you and let you get on with your vacation. Just give the office a call if you need anything, or when you’re ready to go see the new stadium.”
He nodded. “I will. Thanks for everything, Hadley.” His words were sincere. She’d seen to his every need for the past four years he’d been coming there, either personally or through the staff. She made it easy for him to leave his work behind for three glorious weeks, and he truly did appreciate everything she did.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled on the heels of her soft reply, then opened the door and let herself out.
He turned and looked out the window, watching her stroll back to her car.
Something told him this Christmas would be an interesting one.
Seated behind her desk, Hadley popped a soft peppermint in her mouth and chewed. The desktop was full of paperwork, detailing the long list of repairs waiting to be made at several of Monroe’s properties. She sighed as she swallowed the small pieces of candy. She was the office manager, and that entailed a lot of things. What it didn’t entail was property management—that was Campbell’s job.
Scooting her chair back, she stood and walked around her desk. Leaving her office, she walked down the corridor to Savion’s office. The door was open, and a quick peek let her see her brother poring over something on his desk. She tapped on the glass panel next to the door to get his attention.
Glancing up, he waved her in. “What’s up, Hadley?”
She entered the office and took a seat in one of his guest chairs. The office, which had been occupied by their father, Carver, before his retirement, still looked much the same as it had ten years ago. Savion had held on to most of their father’s books and decor, as well as the navy blue carpet and soft-textured blue wallpaper.
Aware of her eldest brother’s obsession with detail, she waited silently for a few moments while he finished reading whatever currently had his attention.
He looked up again, closing his magazine and making eye contact with her. “What do you need, sis?”
Seeing that his body language invited conversation, she sat back in her chair. “I’ve got a pile of repair request forms on my desk. Again.”
“That’s Campbell’s responsibility, not yours.”
She pursed her lips. “I know that, Savion. What I want to know is who keeps dropping the forms on my desk instead of handing them over to Cam.”
Savion’s exaggerated shrug said all. “Must be somebody on staff. Maybe Belinda? Even though she doesn’t work for us, she’s in and out of here all the time.”
She shook her head. “Belinda knows better.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of her people. Either way, it’s Campbell’s job to handle that stuff, so just pass the stack to him.” He reached up, stifling a yawn with his hand.
She rolled her eyes. Whoever was leaving her brother’s work on her desk would catch pure hell from her if she ever caught them. Pushing that aside for now, she spoke again. “Listen. While I’m in here, what’s going on with the shoot for the new TV commercial?”
He opened the cover of the black leather-bound planner he kept with him at all times, dropping it on his desk. His eyes were on the pages as he answered her question. “We’re supposed to shoot next Wednesday and into Thursday, if necessary. We hope to get it on the air right after the New Year.”
“Does it have a script? Are we doing voice-over? Who’s going to be in it?”
He looked up, his brow knitting as if he were confused. “Yes, yes and I’m going to be in it. Why are you asking all these questions about the commercial, anyway?”
She shifted in her seat, pushing away her discomfort with his scrutiny. “I have some ideas for the commercial. You know, to punch it up a bit.”
Now he looked annoyed. “What’s wrong with the commercials we’ve been making, Hadley?”
She cleared her throat. “Nothing, per se. I just think it’s time to try a new direction.”
“I don’t know why you’d say that. Monroe Holdings isn’t lacking for business, despite competition from Rent-A-Retreat and Homeshare Plus, so the commercials must be working.”
“Sure they are. I’m not saying
