CHAPTER1
Grayson
“Mr. Ross,there’s someone here to see you.”
I swivel my chair toward the conference room door where my executive assistant Andrea is poking her head in. I frown. Andrea knows better than to interrupt me during this meeting.
“I don’t have any other meeting scheduled this morning,” I tell her, giving her a look that says,what the fuck are you doing?
Andrea has worked for me for three years. She knows better than this.
She casts an apologetic look around the room, but nods. “I know. This was unexpected. But it seems important.”
“It wasn’t on my schedule,” I repeat. I don’t do things that aren’t on my schedule.
“Mr. Ross,” Andrea says, coming further into the room. “You really need to meet this person. It’s kind of…an emergency?”
She says it with a clear question mark at the end. My scowl deepens. I just spoke to my mother this weekend and everything was fine in South Carolina, so any family emergency would have to be of the medical variety. I don’t like that at all. My parents are only in their sixties, and in good health, but that doesn’t mean crazy things like heart attacks and aneurysms can’t happen. Or car accidents, which could involve my sister, her husband, or my niece or nephew.
I start to rise from my chair, then remember that Andrea said someone is here.
“Who is it?” I ask brusquely as I straighten.
“Um,” Andrea says, and her brow furrows, as if trying to decide how to answer. “Her name is Evelyn.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know any Evelyn.”
“I know. But Mr. Ross, it’s very important that you come meet her.”
For fuck’s sake. This is all taking longer than it probably would be for me to tell Evelyn whoever-she-is ‘no’ to whatever she’s here to ask me.
I swear to God if this is some woman walking in off the street thinking she’s going to make a grand impression on me with her confidence and boldness—she is grossly mistaken. I do not like surprises. I do not like to be interrupted, and I do not like to be thrown off schedule.
I turn to the conference table full of employees. “I’ll return as soon as I can. Peter, can you continue please,” I say to my vice president of operations for my Chicago office.
Everyone came into the New York office for this meeting, but since I’m in the New York office, it, of course, runs like clockwork. The Chicago office and the Seattle office are the two we need to review.
Peter nods and picks up where I left off as I follow Andrea out to the reception area.
The only person standing by Andrea’s desk is a woman I know well. Sara, Andrea’s assistant, is holding a small child. I suppose the child could even be called a baby.
But there’s no one else around. Certainly no woman barging into my office seeking one of our exclusive, highly sought after internships.
“Where did she go?” Andrea asks Sara.
“Bolted as soon as you left. Here,” Sara thrusts a rumpled, folded piece of paper at Andrea. “She said to give him this.”
I can’t help but study the child on Sara’s hip.
I don’t think I have ever seen a more suspicious looking baby.
She’s not fussing, not squirming or crying, but she’s looking at Sara with a deep frown. As if she is not convinced that Sara knows at all what she is doing.
Did I know that Sara had a baby?
No, I did not.
I realize that I’m very work focused and sometimes am not the most… personable…boss, but I would have noticed if Sara was pregnant.
