But I knew him, didn't I? Months of watching from the periphery at events or around town. Of noticing how he was always the first to help when something went wrong, how he looked at me like...
Like I was the only woman in the room.
Dangerous thinking, Becker.
My phone rang. Unknown number. I almost let it go to voicemail.
"Coogan's Catering, this is Nadia."
"Ms. Becker. Richard Gray from P.T.S."
Given the early hour, my stomach dropped. Pacific Tech Solutions was one of my biggest corporate accounts. Regular events, reliable income, excellent references. "Mr. Gray, good morning. What can I do for you?"
A beat stretched too long. "I'm afraid I'm calling with tough news. Corporate has updated our approved vendor list, and we'll need to transition to a national chain for our catering needs going forward."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "I... I don't understand. Has there been a problem with our service?"
"Not at all. Your work has been exemplary. But corporate prefers us to use larger operations that can service multiple properties. I'm sorry, Nadia. I pushed back, but the decision was above my pay grade."
"Which chain?" I asked, my mind already turning over something I'd seen or heard recently.
"I'm not sure. Corporate was cagey about sharing details. All they'd say was that it was a big outfit expanding into the region."
A big national operator was my worst nightmare. The kind that wrung out local competition with lowball pricing, corporate connections, and economies of scale that no independent operation could match.
"I understand," I said, proud that my voice stayed steady. "Thank you for letting me know."
"For what it's worth, I'll be recommending you to anyone who asks. You run a quality operation."
I didn't realize he'd hung up until the line went dead. I'd been too busy calculating how badly losing the account would hurt. Pacific Tech had been money I could rely on. Money I'd counted on, money my family needed.
The vendor truck pulled up outside, and I forced myself to move. To check in the delivery, inspect the produce, and sign the invoice. To be the competent professional everyone expected.
But my mind was spinning. Whoever this new competitor was, I needed to know more about them. Figure out their strategy. Find some way to compete. Maybe reach out to my other corporate clients and make sure they weren't planning to jump ship too.
My phone buzzed again. This time a text from my sister, Holly.
Mom called. They're short $500 on this month's mortgage. Dad's hours got cut again. Can you help? Sorry sis.
I closed my eyes. Five hundred dollars. Money that would have been easy before losing the Pacific Tech contract. Now it would be tight.
Damn it, I should have stayed in bed with Daemon.
Not that it would have helped. This was about building something. Protecting my family. Not dodging my responsibilities. Not being a woman who risked everything for a man who wouldn't stick around when things got hard.
It didn't matter that he checked on his landlady every day and lived surrounded by ceramic cats rather than upset her by hiding them. Nor did it matter that his hands had been so gentle and his eyes so honest when he'd said it was real.
My phone buzzed a third time. Daemon, as if my obsessing over him had manifested his text.
Breakfast with Sofia was brutal. She knows everything. She wants to meet you. Fair warning, she’ll grill you while feeding you 10,000 calories.
Despite the lost account, the money stress, the confusion churning in my gut, I smiled. Then I deleted the text before I could do something stupid like responding.
Prep work consumed the rest of the morning. I had a corporate luncheon and a small private dinner to organize. Normal work. Routine. Things I could do in my sleep.
Except I kept getting distracted by memories of Daemon holding my thighs steady. His lips moving ever closer. The way he'd said my name before he...
Focus, Becker.
