Where Dreams Books 1-3 by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Published: 2016-06-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Jo had blown off the rest of the afternoon, what was left of it after a three-hour lunch, and gone to the Eastlake Gym.

When Renée Linden did a full-on opening argument, Jo had found herself at some loss to offer a clean and cogent rebuttal. And she still didn’t know what her plan or intent was, making it all the more confusing. If there were a pending lawsuit on which the Market needed her assistance, why hadn’t she simply laid out the bones of the case. Not that Jo would have time to tackle it, but she’d be glad to give them a little advice and hook them up with someone sharp enough to take down whoever was messing with them.

Jo shoved the pin in ten pounds heavier than normal and began working her triceps on the machine. This wasn’t her normal workout time. She and Cassidy typically came in with the other early corporates. Hard workouts to get fired up for a guilt-free day because your workout was already under your belt. Perrin never joined them. A true night owl, if she ever went to the gym it would be at midnight.

The afternoon crowd was an odd mix. A lot of mothers getting in a quick half-hour while the kid was at ballet or wherever. There were also a fair number of guys who looked bruiser strong. Like construction workers off work at three who hadn’t gotten enough exercise hefting steel girders and giant laminate beams all day.

Jo decided to just keep her head down and do her workout. And hope that she could somehow make sense of what happened at lunch.

“We’re retiring,” Renée had explained over the entremets of strawberry sorbet with a dark chocolate flake. “Nathaniel and I are going cruising for a while, then we thought we’d winter over in New Zealand. This is our home, but we decided it was time to travel for some reason other than business.”

Renée Linden retiring. That would send shockwaves rippling through the Seattle social firmament. Jo still couldn’t make sense of that, even by the time she’d worked through biceps and moved on to abs and obliques.

And Nathaniel Linden leaving Boeing management. He was the President of the custom business-jet division, had practically created it. You want your own personal 737 outfitted for entertaining? He was the man. A six-bedroom 747, with an in-flight movie theater that could seat your family and friends each in their own lounge chair before a ten-foot screen with full-surround sound and a garage in the cargo bay to transport your Maserati? He’d make it happen. It was a small, but exceptionally lucrative division.

That had been enough of a shock for Jo, and she’d wager that neither Pike Place Market nor Boeing were the least bit happy about their pending departures.

Jo counted out ten more reps trying not to think, but that wasn’t helping.

Her litigator instincts would bet safe money there was still more up the woman’s sleeve. She was notorious for never stopping once she’d set her sights on something.

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