Part 17 (2/2)

But even with Mila, I still can't squeeze in a break because the press has gotten wind of the island sabotage and I'm fielding call after call, making statements about how we have everything under control, and that the leaked photo of the destruction entirely exaggerates the damage, and that the cleanup will in no way impact our projected opening date. And every time I say those words I want to strangle whoever the a.s.shole is who caused that damage, took that photo, and f.u.c.ked with my life.

But it's not just the press. No, the investors are calling, too, and while I've been able to a.s.suage most of them, another one has dropped out. And although my contact didn't specifically say that he was s.h.i.+fting his dollars to Lost Tides, I can't shake the feeling that's the case. And that without planning it or wanting it, I'm now in a duel to the death with that d.a.m.n resort in Santa Barbara.

And in the midst of all of that, I'm trying to actually do what I've been saying is already in progressorganize and oversee the cleanup of the island, which is scheduled to begin as soon as Ryan says that his team is finished investigating and doc.u.menting.

In other words, I'm both exhausted and frustrated. And, frankly, I'm still p.i.s.sed off that someone is s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me.

Well, technically they're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with the resort. But I'm taking everything related to Cortez pretty d.a.m.n personally.

By eleven, Damien is on yet another conference call, this one scheduled for half an hour. Miraculously, it's calm enough that I can hand the reins to Mila and run to the break room for coffee.

I pa.s.s Trent on the way in, and seeing him reminds me of the conversation I'd had with Jackson about Nathan Dean. I know that Dean is working on Trent's new house, but if he doesn't have any other projects going on, he might be interested in being Jackson's second in case Jackson gets arrested. And, worse, convicted.

Just thinking about it makes me jumpy. Then again, I'm already jumpy. Every time the elevator opens I turn that way, expecting to see two detectives with handcuffs.

But I can't just push it out of my head. I need to get this wrapped up. I need to know there is someone in place if the worst happens. I consider waiting to run it past Damien, but the bottom line is that I'm the project manager, and this is the kind of call the manager makes.

So as soon as I'm back at Damien's desk, I pick up the phone. ”Can you grab Damien's line? I need to make a call about the resort.”

”Sure.” Mila is smart and competent and in another month or two she could work Damien's desk alone. With any luck, it will be Rachel's job to train her because I'll be in my new office in the real estate division. Right now, though, she's my shadow.

Dean answers on the first ring, sounding a little out of breath. ”Ah, Nathan Dean.”

”Nathan, good morning. It's Sylvia. How are you?”

”Oh.” He clears his throat. ”Sorry. I wasI was just in the middle of something. I thought you were Damien. Is he”

”He's fine, but I'm not calling on his behalf.” As a rule, Nathan's quiet and pretty easy to intimidate. Hopefully if he knows Damien's not about to jump on the call, he'll chill. ”I was hoping to set up a meeting. I've got a potential project coming up, and if you have time to add it in, we should talk. You know I'm working in the real estate department now, right?”

”Of course, of course. Iwell, I'm flattered you'd think of me, but the truth is that my schedule is jam-packed through the spring at least.”

”That's wonderful.” I'm genuinely pleased for him. Since I hadn't read anything about him in the trade papers, I'd feared he didn't have many projects. ”I know about Trent's house, of course, but what else have you got on your plate?”

”Well, there's another with Trent and”

”With Trent?” I know it's not for Stark Real Estate Development. ”Is he building a vacation house in Santa Barbara?”

I'd asked the question lightly, just as a toss-away because of Trent's recent trip up there. So I'm surprised when Nathan stumbles over the answer, saying, ”Santa Barbara? No. No. I mean, he's notactually, you know, I'm running late for a meeting.”

”Sure. No problem.” We end the call, and now I'm wondering what's up with Trent. I can't think of any reason why he'd want to keep a project secret. Unless he's relocating and doesn't want anyone at work to know yet? I frown, because that's actually a real possibility. He was genuinely p.i.s.sed off when I got Cortez and he didn't. But I hadn't thought that he was p.i.s.sed enough to go shopping for a new job.

I'd hate to see him go, but I can't silence the selfish little voice that points out that without Trent in the real estate division, there will be more opportunity once I s.h.i.+ft permanently into that department.

I'm making a mental note to ask Rachel if she has any gossip when Mila glances up from the phone by the couch, where she'd just ended a call that had come in for Damien. ”Everything okay?”

”Yeah.” I frown. ”Except that the one guy I'd hoped to entice with the promise of steady work is all booked up.”

”But that's good, right?”

”It is for him.” I puff out my cheeks as I take a breath, then blow it out, feeling edgy and frustrated and slightly off. ”Not so great for me.” I press my fingertip to my temple. ”I need another coffee. Want one?”

”No, thanks. But I can get you one if you want.”

I wave off the offer. ”I need to move anyway.”

I'm standing as my cell rings. It's Ethan, and I answer as I'm stepping away from my desk. ”I'm so glad you called. I was on the boat and didn't get your texts, and I'm”

”Sylvia, honey, it's Dad.”

I reach out one hand to grab the side of the desk. ”Why are you calling on Ethan's phone?”

”You know why.” His voice is somehow both gruff and soft. As if he's frustrated, but trying hard not to show it.

”I can't talk to you right now. You had no right to tell him.”

”Honey, you”

”You need to stop calling me that.”

”Please, let me talk to you. I love you.”

I cringe, those words sounding harsh and horrible from this man. ”You have a funny way of showing it. And you need to stop calling me. I'll talk to you when I'm ready.”

”When will that be?”

”Never,” I whisper as a chill snakes up my spine. ”That will be never.”

I end the call, then start to slide my phone back onto my desk, but my fingers aren't working very well, and it tumbles from my hand and onto the ground. I spit out a curse, and I see Mila's forehead pucker. ”Are you okay?”

I smile. ”I'm fine. I'm justnot enough sleep, you know. I'm going to take a walk. Ten minutes. Okay.”

I don't wait for her to answer. I hurry to the stairwell, shove through the door, and lean back against the cool metal. I want to cry. I want to scream.

But I don't do either.

Instead, I remind myself that I'm strong.

I hear Jackson's voice telling me that I can get through this.

In my mind, I clutch hard to his hand.

And thenbecause I know that he is rightI close my eyes, tilt back my head, and breathe.

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