The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (9)



“If they’re in the building, they know the power is off,” I attempt to reassure her. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“Uh, no.” She scoffs. “Not this client. This client only understands that time is money.”

I grin. “Do they actually use that phrase with you? Time is money?”

“Only once a day.”

“How obnoxious.”

“Oh, Remy. You have no idea. I work with some of the most insufferable people in the city. Mrs. Clemmons is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Patricia Clemmons?” I ask, my interest piqued.

“Yes…” Her eyes narrow in surprise. “How did you know?”

“I’ve done some investments for her and her husband. She called my assistant a half-wit for calling before nine a.m. one day.”

“Oh my God, yes! Ten to four, Maria,” she mocks in a voice that is spot-on Patricia. “Anyone with class knows those are the only acceptable hours if you have any human decency.”

“Oh man, I hope she buys a place in this building and makes Ty’s life a living hell.” I laugh, and Maria feigns a pout.

“Poor Ty.”

“Nah. Poor Ty’s doing just fine with his life. That’s why I’m here, actually. I’m delivering the ring he’s waiting on to propose.”

“What? Ty Winslow is proposing?” she squeals excitedly. “As in, he’s going to get married?”

“Yep.” I nod slowly. “Hard to believe, but he found someone who can tolerate his ass. I’m sure he’s hysterical right now, waiting for me.”

“That’s crazy. Almost unbelievable,” she responds with a shake of her head. “Oh hey, did you happen to park in the garage?”

The abrupt change in conversation makes me furrow my brow. Of all the things to ask me about, she’s wondering about the garage of this random building?

“Uh…no, but I had the cab driver drop me off there because traffic by the main entrance was crazy. I’d only gone up one floor in this elevator when you got on at street level.”

“How are the spaces? Big or compact only?”

“Wait…” I feel my mouth curve slightly as I look at her with a tilt of my head. “Are you…using me for realty questions right now?”

“Mrs. Clemmons!” she snaps, as though that’s the only explanation I need. And truth be told, it is. That woman is basically a caricature of a human.

“Maria,” I say her name with feigned disappointment. “I’m wounded.”

“You’re not wounded.” She scoffs. “You’re perfect.”

Her cheeks turn bright red immediately, and her head bows toward the floor as everything inside me lights up. Maria freaking Baros. I cannot believe I’ve gone this many years without thinking about how amazingly earnest she always was—especially when she didn’t want to be. Her nerves always made the words just fall right out of her mouth. Fuck. I always loved that about her.

The urge to ease her embarrassment is too strong to deny. “Oh boy, perfect? Me?” I laugh and flash a wink in her direction. “Can I get you to sign a sworn affidavit to present to my family, stating your exact words?”

Awkwardness gone, she meets my eyes with a grin and quips back, “Oh, Rem, you and I both know your family wouldn’t accept that affidavit. If Jude and Ty are still the same as they used to be, they love busting your balls way too much.” She quirks an amused brow. “But surely your wife wouldn’t need an affidavit to know how amazing you are.”

Her statement makes me realize just how long it’s been since we’ve spoken. “If I had a wife, I’d hope that would be the case.”

“Wait…what do you mean?” she questions and searches my eyes. “You and Charlotte got divorced?”

Well, fuck. After this long, it’s hard to believe that anyone doesn’t know what happened that day.

“Actually, Charlotte and I never got married.”

“But the last time we talked…you were, like, a week away from your wedding…”

“Yep. She left me at the altar.”

Her eyes go wide in shock. “You’re kidding me!”

“No, babe. I can assure you I’m not,” I remark with a laugh.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry, Remy. That’s horrible.”

“It’s fine,” I tell her and truly mean it. “It just wasn’t meant to be, you know? I’m at peace with that.” I shrug. “Plus, it was like a million years ago.”

“Oh God, don’t say that,” she responds on a snort. “You’re making me feel old. Surely it was just last year that we spoke.”

In reality, it was about fifteen years ago that Maria reached out to me unexpectedly via text message. The exchange was sweet and friendly and made me remember how much I’d always still care about her. But it was nothing more than that. Seeing her now makes me wonder how…how I ever thought it was a good idea to walk away from her, honestly.

“Sorry to break the news to you, but it was a long-ass time ago when you sent me that text message. Hell, I don’t even have the same number anymore.”

“Gah. Me either.” She groans. “Are we really in our forties now?”

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