Page 20 of Check Mate

He carefully takes the card, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger like it might be sticky. “Um, thank you. These are very… bright.”

“I’ll pass on the compliment. Mr. Windell is doing a branding overhaul.”

Mr. Chamberlain grunts, then spins on his heel and walks back to his car. Once his car is gone, I pull my laptop out of the bag that I brought with me and schedule some articles to post while I’m on my trip—articles I meant to finish during the weekend before nine roosters appeared on my doorstep. At 8:45 on the dot, the next car pulls in the driveway.

“Jeez, these people are punctual,” I whisper under my breath.

The next client’s last name is either borington or lorington. It was hard to tell all the way from my front porch. David really needs to speak up when I’m trying to eavesdrop.

A middle-aged woman in a sleek pencil skirt and high-heels gets out of her SUV and walks toward the house. Her brown hair is in a smooth bob and she has glasses on that remind me of David’s. She smiles warmly when she sees me on the front porch. Her eyes move toward the sign on the front door briefly and her eyebrows pinch together slightly before she turns back to me.

“Good morning Mrs. Blortington.” I mix the b and l sounds together and hope she doesn’t notice.

“Mrs. Lorington, yes.”

Crap. She noticed. “I’m Mr. Windell’s assistant. I’m so sorry for the last minute change, but Mr. Windell has food poisoning.”

She gasps. “Oh no, the poor dear!”

“I know. He has barely left the bathroom all morning,” I say, trying to look sympathetic about the illness I made up. “Here’s his card to reschedule.” I hand her one of the gaudy yellow business cards.

She eyes it and smirks. “Thanks, but I already have David’s number. I’ve been friends with his mother for years.”

“Oh, good.” I huff out a sigh, trying to sound relieved. “He was too sick to forward me today’s clients. So I’m just having to stand guard here and guess who’s who.”

“Right.” She nods, but her eyes are squinting at me like she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

Something inside of me is screaming, abort, abort, abort! Mission canceled!

Mrs. Lorington pulls a phone out of her briefcase and dials a number, then taps the screen to put it on speaker.

David’s deep voice answers cheerfully—cheerfully for David, anyway. “Good morning, Mrs. Lorington, are we still on for today?”

She gives me a saccharine smile and her eyes are twinkling as if she’s enjoying catching me in my lie. “I’m actually on your doorstep now, speaking with your lovely assistant. I’m so sorry to hear about the food poisoning.”

He scoffs. “What? I don’t have food poisoning, or an assistant.”

David answers the door and I gulp the lump that’s been stuck in my throat since she pulled her phone out.

He taps the screen to end the call, and looks between me and Mrs. Lorington before asking, “What are you doing here?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Just trying to help out, I know how busy you are with your clients.”

“Mrs. Lorington, I’m so sorry about this.” He touches her arm affectionately, like you would someone you’ve known since childhood.

She chuckles, looking curiously between the two of us. “Let’s reschedule and I’ll let you two take care of… whatever this is.” She points from David then to me and back. She winks playfully at David before walking back to her SUV and driving away.

David crosses his arms and glares at me. I smile tightly at him and brace myself for a lecture. He looks me up and down, his eyes stopping on the yellow cards in my hand. He grabs my wrist firmly and pries my hand open.

He closes his eyes and runs his tongue over his front teeth before speaking. He’s angry. Really angry. But I have to admire his self-control.

“Comic Sans?” He asks, finally opening his eyes again.

I bat my eyelashes innocently. “I thought your branding needed some updating… you know, to show how fun and silly you can be. Plus, they match your new sign.”

His eyes widen and he turns around. He looks at the sign for about half a second before he rips it off and crumples it in his hand with a growl.

“Growling? Okay, now I’m scared,” I say sarcastically. But when he whips around and pins me with those steely blue eyes… I actually am a little scared.