Page 27 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

It sounded like a nightmare in the making. Annabelle took a deep breath and modulated her voice. “The clients like one point of contact. I’m assuming that won’t change. That this, um, training, will be behind the scenes?”

Riggs gave her a condescending smile. “I’m so glad you brought that up, Annabelle.”

He must be a Dale Carnegie fan. Annabelle didn’t think folks loved hearing their names used as much as Riggs clearly believed they did.

“Yes, the client’s needs will come first, as always. My method may require everyone to put in longer hours for a while, but I’m confident that it will be worth it to each of you to acquire new skills. A winning team takes practice.”

She tuned out the rest of what he was saying and finally, after another half an hour, the meeting ended. She gathered her things and stood, but Riggs stopped her before she could leave.

“Annabelle, could I have a minute?”

“Sure.”

Everyone else filed out, a few casting curious looks at her before leaving. Riggs shut the door.

“I didn’t want to say this in front of the group, but you don’t need to partner up with anyone. You’re already well-versed in everything we do here, Annabelle. They wouldn’t have offered you the job otherwise.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize—”

“That I knew I was the second choice?”

She laughed uneasily. “I’m sure you weren’t second. It’s just I was already here.” She didn’t know why she was trying to placate him. A man would probably have taken the compliment.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“No. I wanted to let you know we have a new client that I want you to handle. It’s the first client I’m bringing in, and I want to make sure he’s well taken care of. Annabelle, I’d like you to offload the Morgan account to Mitch.”

She thought of her dream. Her stomach tightened. This was freaking her out. “Okay, Riggs. Who is it?” Please don’t say a podcaster, she thought.

“Name’s Chase Sommers. He’s an investigative journalist and has a podcast. He wants to grow his audience. I told him you’re the perfect one to help him.” He handed her a file.

She gulped, breaking out in a cold sweat. What the hell was happening? “Okay, great. I’ll, um, put together a package for Mitch on Morgan.” She swallowed several times, hoping he didn’t notice her discomfort.

“Great. We’ll do a face-to-face with Chase next week. In the meantime, do an assessment of his current socials, website, et cetera, and then you and I can meet beforehand to discuss a plan of action.”

“Sounds good.”

Annabelle returned to her office, put down the folder, and glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. She thought about her dream again. It was all unfolding in real time. After finalizing the Morgan file, she emailed it to Mitch, then walked over to let him know she’d transferred everything. His office was dark. It was all coming true. Her heart raced as she waited for what she knew would happen next. Sherry walked over.

“Looking for Mitch?”

Annabelle couldn’t catch her breath for a moment. “Did he go home sick?”

Sherry gave her a strange look. “Yes. How did you know? You just missed him.”

Annabelle ran back to her office and picked up her phone, her heart racing. Olivia would be going to gymnastics practice any minute now.

“Bayport Middle School.”

“This is Annabelle Reynolds. I need to pick up my daughter Olivia. Please make sure she doesn’t go to gymnastics practice. I repeat, make sure she does not go to practice. Have her wait for me in the office.”

“Is everything okay, Mrs. Reynolds?”

“Family emergency. But please don’t alarm her. Tell her everything’s okay, but I need her to come home early today.”

“All right.”

She grabbed her bag and raced out of the office, hoping she wasn’t too late. What if something even worse than a broken arm happened to Olivia? She couldn’t lose another child.