Page 74 of The October Arrangement

“Mine too,” I sighed.

We stared at each other for a moment, and I chuckled.

“What?” Bella asked.

“Look at us,” I said.

“What about us?”

“We both had shitty days, we’re both pissed off, and we’re standing in my kitchen drinking before dinner like we’re afraid to talk to each other,” I said.

“I’m not afraid to talk to you,” she said, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring some into her glass.

“Good, because neither am I. Dinner smells delicious. Is it ready?” I cautiously asked. “I only ask because I’m starving.”

“Yeah. It’s ready. Go sit down.”

She took down two plates from the cabinet and scooped some chicken pot pie onto them. I took it to the table, where a nice-looking salad sat in the middle and salad plates sat at each of our seats. I picked up my fork and dug right into the chicken pot pie.

“Jesus, Bella. This is phenomenal.”

“Thanks. I had to look up a recipe. I’ve never made chicken pot pie before.”

“Is this homemade crust?” I asked.

“Yes. I made it with my own two hands.” She softly smiled.

“Well, you’ve outdone yourself. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She picked up her fork. “What happened at work today that made it so shitty?”

“Tribeca,” I said.

“Huh?” Her brows furrowed.

“We need to sell fifty, maybe fifty-two units of Montclair Tribeca, and fast.”

“Ouch. That’s a lot of units.”

“Exactly.” I took another bite of my chicken pot pie.

“How many were you supposed to have sold by now?” she asked.

“All of them. We’re at a significant loss right now. The longer the units sit there, the more money we lose. And tomorrow, I get to spend a chunk of time I don’t have listening to people tell me everything we’re already doing isn’t working.”

“Can’t you spend more on advertising?” she asked.

“We already are. It’s not making a difference. Now, Marketing wants another three hundred thousand.”

“Dollars?” Her eyes widened.

“No, Bella. Jellybeans.”

She shot me the dirtiest look.

“I had a bad day, okay?” I said.

“So have I.”