She’s already shaking her head. “I’ll take it in my office. Wait two minutes after I go back in before transferring it. But for all that’s holy, interrupt the call when Neo calls? I’m not blowing that over Becks’ temper tantrum over finding out his latest piece is on the cover of the tabloids with another man.”
“Of course.” But I can’t prevent the smirk as she sashays back into her office.
“And do something about those flowers, David.” My head whips arounds. “Find out who sent them. That person deserves a personal thank-you.”
What. The. Fuck? “Absolutely,” I growl.
And it’s moments like this when I’m damn glad I’ve made the decisions I have because the door closing behind her tells me she’s back in full-on boss mode.
Glaring at my computer, I realize I have six hours until this day ends and Carys and I can go home to make some very hard decisions.
Chapter Four
David
“Secrets aren’t a good thing,” I read aloud on another dozen roses, these ones blush pink with a bright pink rim, delivered by a different courier two hours later. I spent almost that whole time trying to find out from the first florist who ordered the beautiful blooms with absolutely no luck.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the store owner said snootily. “For privacy reasons, no, I can’t give you a description of any individual who ordered from us. You said you work for an attorney? I’m certain they can advise you of that.” Right before they hung up.
I was only mildly irritated before. Now, with a second delivery, I’m beginning to panic. “Son of a bitch,” I curse. Did Carys pick up some kind of crazed stalker at one of the clubs? Some of the places we go to in order to check out our new clients aren’t exactly in the best parts of the tristate area. Scrubbing my hands over my shaved head, I wonder, “Maybe the guy who wouldn’t leave her alone at that place in Fort Washington…”
“What are you meandering about, David?” Carys’s impatient voice comes from behind me.
“You got another delivery,” I tell her somberly. Handing over the card, she scans it, before tossing the card onto the desk almost exactly next to the other.
“I can’t think about this right now. Did you finish the preliminary contract for Erzulie?”
I push to my feet and walk to the cabinet housing our discreet printer. “Everything’s right here.”
“Excellent.” She begins flipping through the papers quickly. “Their agent is dropping by for a draft this afternoon. I want to be able to bring them in to finalize the signing this week.”
“That should work.” Then I stiffen. “This week?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re booked solid all week.”
“Well, can’t we move anything around?” she snaps. “Erzulie decided to go with us as her attorney of record despite the full package being offered from her recording labels. This is an enormous deal for us.”
“I’m well aware of that, Burke.” I place an emphasis on her last name as I lose my grip on my own temper. “But first, I’m not your damn assistant, Angie is. And second, even if I were, which of the other five major deals that you booked this week would you like to push back? Because according to you, they’re all important!” By the time I’m done, I’m breathing hard.
Her aqua eyes turn into shards of ice. But before she can open her mouth to retort, I keep going. “Maybe this isn’t quite working out the way we expected it to, Carys.” I try for gentle, but she recoils as if I’d just slapped her.
“What? Us?”
“No!” I rush to get out. “Car, that’s not what I’m saying at all!” I move to touch her, but she holds up a hand.
“I apologize if I’ve been stepping over the bounds of your work responsibilities. I’ll call Angie in to figure things out.”
“Carys,” I start, but she simply turns around on her stiletto heel and heads back into her office, closing the door softly behind her.
I wish she’d have slammed it because then I would have felt better and not so damn guilty about having what amounts to a nervous breakdown over what I’m about to do on our anniversary combined with this crazed worry about wondering if Carys has a stalker.
Moving back to my desk, I pick up the phone to call the second florist. “Hello. My name is David Lennan. An order was just delivered with no signature on the card. Is there any way to find out who sent it?”
Just as the person starts talking, Angie opens the door to the office between us. Walking by with her tablet in her hand, she tosses me a sympathetic smile before she goes to take care of the woman I love.
Which is something I’ve been struggling with doing.
An hour later, I receive an email from Angie.
David,
Updated schedule for Burke.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Angie
Mentally groaning, knowing this could mean things that trickle down to me that involve contract revisions to signing new talent, it takes me a minute to understand what I’m looking at.
There are sections of Carys’s schedule which are now marked off as PRIVATE. There’s a lock in the corner that does absolutely nothing when I double-click on the meeting to open it. Are these actual meetings that I need to know about, or is this something else? A ball begins to form in the pit of my stomach as I recall the expression on her face after I yelled at her earlier.
Hearing Carys’s door open behind me, I close out of the app in time for her to say, “I can’t thank you enough for coming by, Ward.” The two step out of Carys’s office arm in arm. Whereas Carys is blonde and tiny, her brother is tall and dark. If I hadn’t seen hundreds of pictures of their parents over the years, I never would have pegged them for siblings.
“My pleasure. I think things are going to work out beautifully.”
She beams up at him. “I hope so. It will certainly be a change, that’s for damn sure.” They both laugh.
“How about I take you to lunch? You have to be starving,” he cajoles her.
Carys shakes her head. “No can do, today, honey. I’m too busy.”
He runs a finger along her cheek and whispers, “I got a secret for you.”
She leans back. “I bet mine’s bigger.”
“Not for much longer.” They both laugh hysterically as if they’ve told each other the funniest joke in the world. “Enjoy your Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
She gives a noncommittal sound as she watches her brother leave with a wry twist of her lips.
I cough. Loudly.
Carys swivels her head. “Yes?” Her voice is just a shade above arctic.
Crap. This is absolutely not how I want this day to be going. Standing, I approach her warily. “We normally don’t do this during work hours…”
“Do what?”
“Us. You. Me,” I state baldly. “But what I need to do can’t wait until we get home later.”
She sucks in a breath so huge, I can actually see it. “All right.”
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I love you, Car.”