Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Henry’s smile is soft. “I like seeing you like this.”
“Like what? Overwhelmed?”
“Busy with things that are yours and important to you. Don’t worry, you’ll manage it.”
He’s talking about my company and my education. Even the wedding, which is technically ours, but Control Freak Henry wants me to make the decisions so it’s one hundred percent what I want.
My phone chirps with a text from Autumn.
Autumn: Not to be the bearer of bad news on a Monday morning, but you did ask me to send you anything that comes up.
I click on the celebrity gossip site link she included. And gasp in horror.
Wolf Heir and Assistant Spotted at Exclusive High Society Sex Party with Friends Margo Lauren and Hedge Fund Playboy Preston Abbott.
“I thought you said it was a secret party!” My stomach sinks as I see a grainy picture of Henry and I stepping out of Victor’s car on Saturday night, our masks firmly in place. But it’s us—the black-and-white stripes of my tights, my red braid stretching down my back. They’ve circled my hand again, as if the barely visible ring is recognizable. They really love doing that.
Henry rounds the counter to look over my shoulder. “They can’t tell that’s us.”
“But they can here.” Another picture shows us outside of our building. We weren’t wearing our masks then. More pictures show the others leaving our building in costume. Whoever wrote this story assumed—correctly—that we were all going to the same party.
“Whatever. Deny it.”
“But look at the headline!”
“There’s no proof of what went on inside that warehouse.” He is too calm for my liking.
“Well, they obviously know something.” Someone has talked to them about what goes on at these costume parties. “What if they have pictures from inside?” Just the thought of that makes me want to vomit. I scroll further, but there aren’t any more candid shots of us, only advertisements.
“They don’t have anything. Remember those metal detectors we went through? The organizers take their security very seriously.”
Henry’s vow brings me little comfort. Another dark thought stirs. “This means someone followed us. They sat outside, waiting for us to leave, and then tailed us all the way there.” It took almost an hour with traffic to get to that warehouse. Was it this Luca/Frank/Hank guy who’s been calling everyone I know? It’s been weeks since that initial phone call.
“I know. That’s what they do. They’re vile cockroaches, but if they can make money off this shit, there’s no getting rid of them.” Henry sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I smooth my palm over his forearm. “But why us? I can understand following Margo around, but you’re not an actor.”
“I don’t know why the fascination, but they’ve always found a way to put me in their headlines. Don’t worry, it’ll die down soon.”
Henry has dealt with these people for most of his adult life. He’s learned how to handle them. Will I ever become unruffled by this violation of privacy? “Until then?”
“There’s no story here, Abbi. You went to a costume party on Halloween, and that’s it. Everything else? No comment.”
I take a deep breath. “I wish they’d stop calling me your assistant.”
He smirks. “Talk to Zaheera. See if they can put a PR spin on this.”
“I don’t see how she can.” Or why she would want to.
My phone rings and I flinch as Mama’s name appears. “See? She hasn’t dialed my number since the day I told her our wedding would be in Alaska. There’s only one reason for her to break her silence.” She’s as dedicated to online gossip as she is to her church. She’s seen the headline.
“Remember. Just a regular costume party.” Henry kisses my temple first, and then my lips, peeling away as I try to deepen it. “Don’t avoid her. It’ll only make it worse.”
He’s halfway across the kitchen when I answer, my teeth gritted as I brace myself. “Hello, Mama.”
“A sex party, Abigail Mitchell?” she shrieks.
CHAPTER 16
“I don’t remember ‘liaison with jewelers’ being in the job description.”
“And I don’t remember ‘marry the boss’ being in it either,” I say through a mouthful of my sandwich.
“Better you than me,” Miles mutters.
I laugh. “I just need his contact info. I’ll call him myself.” Henry trusted this jeweler with sizing his grandmother’s ring for me and he’s designing my wedding ring, so this man is the right person to craft Henry’s wedding band. “And it’s Wolf gold that they’re using, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, perfect. Send me the info as soon as we get off the phone, please?” Because otherwise, I’ll have to answer to Jill. She sent me a lengthy wedding to-do checklist last week and a reminder that the wedding is less than six months away. Apparently, I’m already behind.
“Will do. How’s everything going over at Farm Girl Soap?”
“I’m sitting in the closet.”
“That bad?”
I giggle. “No, I’m kidding. Sort of.” I lean back in my office chair and admire the floral wallpaper and freshly painted walls. When we did the commercial site visit and Zaheera suggested converting the tiny storage room into an office for me, I snickered. I mean, I already have this space rented, with an area for making soaps and another for packaging it, and then an office in the back where my new assistant, Annie, is set up. Wasn’t that enough?