Kallie followed him through the house and her mind was swirling. If Ash was serious about sticking around in the city, did that mean he was serious about her? Was she ready for him to be serious about her? Kallie drew in a deep breath as they walked into the closet. She had to keep it professional. Keep it light, by the book, and she didn’t need to deviate. If anything, this would be a good time to figure out where Ash’s head was emotionally. That was part of the services she offered. Emotional coaching as well as coaching on organizational skills.
“So! How should we start?” Ash asked.
“This isn’t usually the part I’m employed for,” Kallie said. “I give a quote, set forth a plan, then bring in movers and helpers to do this part.”
“I’ll pay you double whatever you quote me, and you can pick whatever you want from the closet to keep.”
“We agreed to keep this professional, Ash.”
“And I countered your offer. A businessman to a businesswoman,” he said.
Kallie pursed her lips before a grin rose on her cheeks. She did technically tell the random woman on the phone she’d come over and help her today. So she sort of roped herself into packing al
l of it up when she came over. She was a sucker for someone crying on the other end of the line. She couldn’t stand people who were sad. Kallie was a helper. Willing to sacrifice anything about herself to make someone’s life a little easier to bear.
“Okay,” she said. “Then we’re going to need some boxes.”
“I’ve got some places I can call for those,” Ash said.
“And a marker. If you don’t want all of the donations going to one place, then labeling the boxes will be imperative. Do you have any charities in mind?”
“Whichever ones you have connections with. Charity is charity. Whoever can use this stuff the most is fine by me,” Ash said.
Kallie got on her phone and called up a few charities while Ash had boxes delivered. One by one, they were dropped in the closet as Kallie set up delivery times for the local places she’d become accustomed to working with. The battered women’s shelter. The pro-bono law office downtown that worked with soon-to-be single mothers. A local thrift store known for their work with the homeless. Kallie popped off the top of the marker and began writing the charity name on each of the boxes, then started scanning the clothes.
“So much floral,” Kallie said. “Did your father’s second wife have a thing for spring?”
“She had a thing for booze. That was pretty much how they met,” Ash said.
“There’s an entire row of dresses with nothing but floral print on them. And these heels. They match exactly.”
Kallie held up the dress and the shoes before wrinkling her nose.
“Should we thrust that choice onto an unsuspecting population?” Ash asked with a grin.
“I’m almost afraid to,” Kallie said with a giggle. “Though I still can’t get over the diamond-encrusted hair clips. I mean, really. We couldn’t have toned that gem down a little bit?”
“What would you have put in it?”
“Nothing. The pattern in the hair clips is pretty enough. The diamonds just force her wealth down the throats of unsuspecting people.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” he said.
“Not how this job works. You’re supposed to be talking to me about how you feel with all this.”
“I feel liberated,” he said.
Kallie turned her attention to him as she continued to pull clothes off the hangers.
“This stuff has been sitting around in this apartment for a long time. And when I came back to it, I felt stifled. Like this apartment was pawned off on me instead of given to me to make it my own. I still feel like I’m walking around my father’s place instead of a place I figured he thought I’d call home.”
“Then this is a good starting point for that,” Kallie said.
“I think so too. Thanks for helping me with it.”
“My pleasure. It’s what I do.”
“It’s one of the things you do.”