I answered the call without a second thought.
“Amanda! Congratulations,” Emery gushed.
I frowned, even though the assistant to my father’s secretary couldn’t see it. Glenda worked directly with Dad, and she outsourced matters of non-importance to the newest bubble head in their office. Currently, that was Emery.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“You’re engaged, silly,” the assistant beamed. “I’m calling to check in and see if you spoke to the wedding planner I emailed you about this morning.”
The phone nearly slid from my fingers. I was suddenly cold, too numb to hold the device. Dad knew.
Of course he did.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, making my empty stomach churn.
“Amanda? Hello?” the bubbly voice pinged in my ear.
I pulled the device away and squeezed my dry eyes closed.Breathe.I just had to breathe. Holding the phone’s speaker in front of my mouth, I managed to say, “Sorry, I’ve been busy today. I haven’t had a chance to check my personal email.”
“I sent it to your work email as well,” Emery said helpfully. Her chipper tone carried, even without the damn thing pressed to my ear. “It’s of the utmost importance to Mr. Loring, so I figured it would be best to coverboth bases.”
I groaned, wishing like hell she hadn’t done that. Our devices at work were monitored. While I wasn’t under the same scrutiny as an associate, I still played it safe and kept my work email strictly curated, separated from personal matters.
“Thanks,” I croaked.
“You need to meet with the planner this weekend,” Emery chirped away. “I can call and set up a time if you’re busy. And I know how hard you work, just like your dad. But it’s really important you start working on this matter right away! Mr. Loring wants a date and—”
“Can I talk to him?” I snapped.
My sudden spike of temper made the ditz on the other end of the line gasp softly. She’d lasted longer than most as an assistant, which was surprising given the battle-axe nature of my father’s right-hand woman. But that didn’t mean the assistant deserved our family drama.
“Mr. Loring is in a meeting,” she said quietly, bubbles subdued.
“Have him call me,” I insisted and ended the conversation.
Pushing to my feet, the rush of blood to my brain made the world spin. I gripped the side of my desk, breathing until the dizziness passed. I just needed a quick espresso, maybe some water, and then I would get right back to work.
When Jared St. Just, the senior partner in charge of mergers and acquisitions at Kirk & Wallace, took notice of me, I made damn sure to rise to the occasion. St. Just was one of the most powerful attorneys in Manhattan, and I’d been lucky to be his associate. I still worked for him often as a junior partner, dropping everything to prioritize his cases, which was why I hadn’t eaten lunch or gone to report the fact that I had a stalker when the depositions turned into a logistical nightmare.
Popping into the partner’s lounge, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The cap twisted with a vicious pop, and I glugged the water, feeling a tension headache coming on because, on top of not eating, I hadn’t drunk enough aqua today.
My phone rang.
Looking down, I saw the number and shivered.
“Hi, Daddy, how’s LA?” I breathed, pushing a tiny mug under the espresso spout and pressing the button on the machine to brew.
“Hot, and the locals are all tan,” he grumped.
Not the type of chitchat I expected from my sire.
“What did you need, Amanda? Glenda said it was urgent,” Archibald Loring added, switching back into that terse business-speak that was basically his own brand.
I was surprised the old hag hadn’t called me herself to divert the matter. It must be really important if Dad deigned to call me. I bit my lip. There was no good way to say it, so I kept the observation loose.
“You know about Steven and me?”
Annoyance filled the cellular void. “Yes.”
