Almost six o’clock and he was still at the office. No big surprise, considering his meeting with Samuel Kennedy in San Diego had taken twice as long as he’d expected. Even so, Kennedy still hadn’t reached a decision about the changes to the third story of a building well under way. If he didn’t make up his mind soon, construction would come to a halt, and they’d be forced to push back the completion date yet another time, a situation Jake wanted to avoid at all costs. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind, he thought, stretching his long legs beneath his two-hundred-year-old desk. When he leaned back in his chair, the ancient springs creaked, just as they had years ago when his grandfather had sat there. The image of the old man clear in his mind, Jake suddenly wished he were here with him now. He could have used some advice about a different problem, the one he’d mulled over in his mind on the way back from San Diego. It had been five days since he’d made dinner for Cori at his house, five days since he’d lost control with her.
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