Alexis
It's stupid the way my heart flutters under my rib cage when I see Boone's email address come across my computer. He spends way more time conversing with clients and Hank through email than I gave him credit for. A lot of his day is spent keeping tabs on other projects as well as the one he's working on.
When Hank comes into my office, I glance up, giving him a smile. “Can I ask you a question?"
“Sure."
“Why is Boone checking in on all these other projects?"
He leans in and looks at my screen, where I've sorted Boone's emails. Subject lines such as Montrose house, Dexter remodel, and Harrison skylight scroll down the screen. At least ten emails appear to be him touching base on other projects.
Hank sighs. “Because that's what Boone does. When my dad turned the company over
