“Yeah, pretty much.”I shrug, realizing I’ve become accustomed to these wealthy snobs that are used to getting their way.“And that’s how my entire day has been.Putting out one fire after another.”
My head hits the table, lightly, and I groan, wishing I could press a reset button on the day.The only good thing about it is dinner with my family and that the day is almost over.
I’d spent the better part of the morning finalizing orders and deliveries for clients who are having their home custom built.The outside was done and now the inside work has begun.The crew was due to start the kitchen tomorrow but a few of the major items were still to be delivered.
By lunchtime, I had everything sorted and said items were on trucks to arrive by early afternoon.But my accomplishments were wasted when Jennifer Sangster, the lady of the house and decision-maker for all things related to the build, changed her mind.She no longer wanted the quartz countertops or the stainless sink.And that was justthe beginning of her list of changes, all of which impacted the work I had planned for tomorrow.
Then I spent the afternoon undoing my morning’s work, and that was before the email arrived with the invoice for the orchids Bettina ordered.
“Hey, Paige, why don’t you stay the night?”Sam says as he stacks the dishes in the drainboard.
“I guess I—” My phone rings and I wonder if it’s Zach although I don’t think so.He knew I would be at my parents’ tonight.
“Hello, Paige Hayes,” I say, noticing the number is for the Preston Hotel where we’re hosting the gala.
I listen as the man introduces himself as the manager and then proceeds to tell me that they’ve had an incident and are unable to hold the gala as planned.He continues to apologize and offers to make it right with a reduced price for another evening and a bunch of other things but I’ve tuned him out.
My world has shrunk to the reality of this disaster.Nuit Étoilée is less than three weeks away and we have no venue.What the hell am I going to do?
22
Paige
My phone pings and vibrates, causing me to jump right out of my seat, nearly spilling my cold coffee.It’s been another long day and I’ve been up for twenty hours.It’s well past midnight and I should be in bed, not alone in the dark at the foundation office doing urgent work for tomorrow.
The unexpected sound from my phone, when I’ve been surrounded by an unnerving silence for hours, is a jolt to my system.I’m exhausted—now delirious and spooked by any sound.How I thought working two jobs would be fun is beyond me.
The phone continues to buzz and then another ping indicates an incoming text as the device sails off the desk.
“Dammit.”I snatch it off the carpet, growling at the millionth text of the past day from Bettina’s assistant.“No,” I snap, reading the text.“This woman doesn’t understand no.”
“Sounds like you’re having a rough day, can I help?”
I scream and this time spring from my seat, one hand splayed against my chest and the other outstretched, grasping a stapler as if it’s a gun.Donovan leans against the doorjamb, grinning.He’s wearing tailored navy slacks and a crisp, white button-down, looking like he has every right to be here.
“What the hell are you doing here?”I should be relieved he isn’t an ax murderer, but unease twists in my stomach.
“Are you going to staple me to death with that thing?”He nods to the office tool and I lower my arm, placing it on the desk.
“You scared me,” I huff, pulling my shirt down.“What are you doing here?”
My phone buzzes again and before I can reach for it, he snatches it from the desk, brazenly reading the screen.
“Hey, that’s mine.Give it back.”I glare, grabbing for it but he holds it out of my reach.
“Bettina van der Jagt.”He scrolls through our texts, chuckling and even going so far as to read out loud some of the more obnoxious commands she has fired my way through her assistant.“Let me handle her for you.”
I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours arguing with Bettina over stupid orchids and she doesn’t care that I have final say—she won’t give up.“No.I’ve got this under control.”I clench my teeth at the frustrating truth—I don’t—and given his wry grin, he knows it.
“Come on, I’ll make her understand you’re running the show.”He doesn’t wait for my consent, pulling out his own phone and punching in a few buttons.
I lunge for him but stop mid-stride when Bettina’s voice rings through the room, now on speaker.Incensed, I try to take my phone from him, still in his grasp, but he won’t give it to me.I stand there seething but also reluctantly amazed as she caves within minutes.
I want to scream, laugh, and retch.He didn’t say anything I hadn’t already said and my blood boils at the sinking feeling her acceptance has nothing to do with what I said or how I said it, or even that I’m not of her ilk.It’s because I’m a woman.
Donovan knows it, too.His cocky grin hints at the feeling I just may owe him something for this save.Not in a million years.I’d rather suffocate in orchids than give that man one damn thing.
He ends the call and slips his phone into his pocket before burning me with his superior grin.“You’re welcome.”
