“Yes, a gentleman phoned this morning. Your husband? I didn’t catch his name. He said it was urgent.”
“Oh, I see, thank you,” I say, my pulse kicking up so hard it thumps through my entire body. I end the call, placing my phone out of sight as if it’s about to spill all my dirty secrets.
“Who was that?” Millie asks through a mouthful of brownie.
“Nobody interesting. Just property maintenance.”
I squirm as she observes me for a beat before she quickly returns to the plate of brownies with a shrug.
Chase? It couldn’t be, could it?
I dismiss it. Most likely, it was our landlord. Just a coincidence. And after what Millie said, I’d be a fool to entertain any crazy ideas.
Losing Mom already shattered my heart in two. I’m not strong enough to risk breaking what’s left.
Chapter eight
Violet
“Company summit today, guys,” Mark announces with a clap as if he hasn’t already bombarded us with fifty reminders this week. He straightens his tie, smoothing down an expensive suit that looks more suited for a wedding than the Knightwell auditorium.
“Glad to see everyone has at least attempted to look smart,” he adds, casting a dubious glance at Seb. “We can’t have the Sales team saying Software Development doesn’t turn up.”
Mark hates the Sales team. To him, they’re the office nemesis, always strutting around in designer suits, throwing out their big-dick energy. Secretly, I think he wants to be one of them.
“You mean the same Sales team that thinks all we do is tell people to reboot their computers?” Seb quips, earning a chuckle from the room and a genuine smile from Mark.
Mark points a triumphant finger in the air. “Yes, but I know for a fact—Chase never sits in on their meetings.”
Oh, here we go again. This is Mark’s favorite line at the moment. As if Batman himself had sat in on our meeting.
I brush lint from my suit jacket, pulling it tighter. I’ve worn my favorite navy silk shirt with a skirt that flares over my hips and sits just above the knees. My hair is styled half-up, half-down—an annual event in itself. Seb calls it myundercover baddie day.
The company summit is basically an over-hyped pep rally where Chase, the senior exec team, and department heads remind us how great they are. I could do without it. I’ve got a pile of work waiting, and this is two hours of my life I won’t get back.
The hum of scattered conversation hangs in the air as we file into the auditorium. The entire New York office is attending while the remote teams tune in live. I flash Seb a grin when I spot the next available seats, right next to the Sales team.
“Oh, look who it is,” I say waggling my eyebrows at Seb. “By the way, I saw what you were doing earlier.”
Seb chuckles. “Yeah, rule 101 of getting in Mark’s good books—trash talk Sales. Figured I’d get one in early.”
I slide into a seat next to Ryan, who, with his sun-bleached blond hair and year-round tan, looks like he was born on the waves of a Californian beach rather than glued to his phone in Manhattan.
Ryan glances up from his phone, flashing his charming salesman’s smile that probably closes more deals than actual strategy.
“Hey, Ryan,” I say, settling in. “How’s life in the real world?”
He chuckles, lowering his voice. “Mark still chaining you to your desk and only letting you out at night?”
“Yeah, it’s the first time we’ve seen other humans in a while,” Seb chimes in. “Although it’s probably for the best. Violet took me to her sister’s soccer game last weekend, and I almost took out the referee.”
“You did what?” Ryan’s eyebrows almost shoot off his head.
I groan, already laughing. “All true. Gracie scored, and Seb was celebrating so hard, his phone flew out of his hand...” I lift my pen, tracing the doomed trajectory in the air.
Ryan snickers. “Oh, come on. Please tell me it hit someone.”
“Oh, it did.” I flick my wrist, sending my pen into a slow-motion descent. “Boom. Right on the ref’s ass. They had to stop the game for five minutes. Seb almost got banned.”
