Stacy shot her a fierce glare; they’d solemnly sworn never to bring up those incidents at work, actually going so far as to swear on the phone book one day in Stacy’s office for emphasis. Rehashing those two horrible events while meeting for drinks after work was a different matter, but in the company’s offices, they were not to speak of the one murder involving a beauty queen and the one celebrity’s faked death that had come dangerously close to marring their reputation in recent times.
“That’s not going to be a problem this time! We will keep things under control just as we always do. I strongly recommend we keep the families as far apart as humanly or demonically possible, whichever applies in this case.” She dismissed them to return to their various jobs, then collapsed into her chair at the head of the table, her mind reeling with the images of an armed SWAT team trying to break down the door with a battering ram during this ill-fated wedding.
Her desk phone rang, and she looked across the room at it for a fraction of a second before returning to her professional self. She sat up taller, as though the caller could judge her posture through the phone, and reached for the handset, releasing a cleansing breath at the same time.
“Anastacia East,” she said in her most practiced Abigail voice. She waited for the caller to respond, but heard only the sound of frantic breathing while someone panted, struggling for air.
“It’s me,” the caller finally said, his voice coming through weakly across the connection. Stacy looked at the handset before laughing at herself silently, as though the phone could tell her what was going on.
“Nathan?” Stacy asked, looking at the caller ID on the phone’s multi-line console to be sure it was him. “Are you all right?”
“No! Help! I can’t breathe!”
“Oh god, Nathan! What’s wrong? What happened?” she demanded, the fear rising up in her. Besides being her boss, the nephew who’d inherited her former employer’s company but who wanted nothing to do with the high-stakes world of tasteful and awe-inspiring event and wedding planning, he was her casual… boyfriend. She still hated that word, and felt slightly cheap every time she let herself think too deeply about their relationship. They’d dated before she found out he was Abigail Prudell’s nephew, and she’d promptly broken it off once she learned he was related to her then still-breathing employer. It only became more important that she end things after he inherited Abigail’s business and became her new employer of record.
But over the course of the last year, she’d been unable to deny what she knew… she still cared about him. Maybe she even loved him. And he—glorious, hilarious, gorgeous he—felt the same way about her. While she wasn’t ready to make a stronger commitment than they currently had, she would never want anything bad to happen to him.
And his breathing—or lack of breathing, if the sounds coming through the phone were any indication—had her scared out of her wits.
“Nathan? Talk to me!” she demanded again, clutching the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white.
“I… can’t. I can’t… breathe…”
“I’m calling 9-1-1, just tell me where you are!” she cried, but his choked cry of “no” stopped her from reaching for her cell phone to make the call.
“Noooo! I just… I’m…”
“What, Nathan? Please, just try to breathe… please…”
There was a long pause, interrupted by the sound of her office doors sliding open on their polished metal track. She nearly dropped the handset when she looked up and saw Nathan framed in the doorway, bent at the waist. She jumped up to run to him, but froze when she saw his attire.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious?! You tried that stupid workout program again, didn’t you?” she said, one hand on her hip and the other throwing the phone back in its cradle. “You know you can’t keep up with a
“That’s not going to be a problem this time! We will keep things under control just as we always do. I strongly recommend we keep the families as far apart as humanly or demonically possible, whichever applies in this case.” She dismissed them to return to their various jobs, then collapsed into her chair at the head of the table, her mind reeling with the images of an armed SWAT team trying to break down the door with a battering ram during this ill-fated wedding.
Her desk phone rang, and she looked across the room at it for a fraction of a second before returning to her professional self. She sat up taller, as though the caller could judge her posture through the phone, and reached for the handset, releasing a cleansing breath at the same time.
“Anastacia East,” she said in her most practiced Abigail voice. She waited for the caller to respond, but heard only the sound of frantic breathing while someone panted, struggling for air.
“It’s me,” the caller finally said, his voice coming through weakly across the connection. Stacy looked at the handset before laughing at herself silently, as though the phone could tell her what was going on.
“Nathan?” Stacy asked, looking at the caller ID on the phone’s multi-line console to be sure it was him. “Are you all right?”
“No! Help! I can’t breathe!”
“Oh god, Nathan! What’s wrong? What happened?” she demanded, the fear rising up in her. Besides being her boss, the nephew who’d inherited her former employer’s company but who wanted nothing to do with the high-stakes world of tasteful and awe-inspiring event and wedding planning, he was her casual… boyfriend. She still hated that word, and felt slightly cheap every time she let herself think too deeply about their relationship. They’d dated before she found out he was Abigail Prudell’s nephew, and she’d promptly broken it off once she learned he was related to her then still-breathing employer. It only became more important that she end things after he inherited Abigail’s business and became her new employer of record.
But over the course of the last year, she’d been unable to deny what she knew… she still cared about him. Maybe she even loved him. And he—glorious, hilarious, gorgeous he—felt the same way about her. While she wasn’t ready to make a stronger commitment than they currently had, she would never want anything bad to happen to him.
And his breathing—or lack of breathing, if the sounds coming through the phone were any indication—had her scared out of her wits.
“Nathan? Talk to me!” she demanded again, clutching the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white.
“I… can’t. I can’t… breathe…”
“I’m calling 9-1-1, just tell me where you are!” she cried, but his choked cry of “no” stopped her from reaching for her cell phone to make the call.
“Noooo! I just… I’m…”
“What, Nathan? Please, just try to breathe… please…”
There was a long pause, interrupted by the sound of her office doors sliding open on their polished metal track. She nearly dropped the handset when she looked up and saw Nathan framed in the doorway, bent at the waist. She jumped up to run to him, but froze when she saw his attire.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious?! You tried that stupid workout program again, didn’t you?” she said, one hand on her hip and the other throwing the phone back in its cradle. “You know you can’t keep up with a
Similar Books
