Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Things are going so well! They’re engaged, excited, and seem to love my ideas. I just need to make sure I don’t lose my momentum during the last inning, and this might really happen. I might land the Fletchers’ gala and pave the way for more UK business sooner than I ever imagined!
I use the facilities, wash my hands, and reapply a light coat of lipstick before starting back, only to find a man in a gray jumpsuit busily mopping the marble floor in front of the boardroom doors.
From behind her desk, the receptionist shoots me an apologetic glance.
“Sorry, it’ll be slick.” She motions to her left. “If you go this way and turn at the first hallway, you can go in the back.”
I smile, taking the turn, she indicated. “Of course, no problem. Thanks so much.”
I’m halfway down a much smaller, more intimate hall, running through my mental list of what’s still left to cover, when I catch a conversation drifting from an alcove up ahead.
A voice that sounds like Christoph’s says, “especially for an American,” and my steps slow like I’ve hit wet cement.
My stomach drops, but before I can decide whether to cough to alert them to my presence or go back to the entrance to the hallway and make more noise on my way in, I hear the silver-haired woman—Anne, I think her name was—trilling, “Oh, I know! She’s just delightful. I couldn’t be more impressed. And everything’s so finely woven together with the theme, down to the last detail.”
I bite my bottom lip, face flushing with happiness even as a panicked voice in my head warns to get out of here before I’m caught eavesdropping.
“So creative,” the other secretary, Tabitha, agrees. “Though, I must say I’m a bit surprised.”
“Oh, stop,” Christoph says. “You saw what she did with that wedding. I’m not surprised at all. I knew she’d knock it out of the park.”
My head is at serious risk of growing at least one size this day when Tabitha adds, “No, I just meant that most people don’t try so hard when they know the job is already in the bag.”
My smile freezes, then swiftly begins to fade.
In the bag?
What is she talking about?
As if answering my question, Anne flutters, “Oh yes, quite. That boy we were made to hire for the Summer Sale promotion certainly didn’t put himself out, did he? But if your father’s well-connected…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tabitha finishes. “And remember when Lord Gentry forced Thomas to showcase his daughter’s winter collection on the design floor?”
Christoph groans softly. “Don’t remind me. Those graffiti gowns with the holes in the pits? Hideous. An embarrassment for everyone involved. But Ms. Darling is different. She was invited to pitch ages before Featherswallow called to bully James into giving her the job.”
My eyes go so wide they start to sting.
What?!
I must make a sound—a wheeze, possibly, or my jaw cracking as it drops in shock—because suddenly the voices hush and Christoph swings out of an open door just ahead.
His face shifts quickly from surprise to guilt to a “nothing to see here” grin as he spies me.
“There you are, Emily,” he says, his warm smile back in place. “We were just talking about what a wonderful job you’re doing. We couldn’t be more thrilled with the presentation.”
According to what I overheard, it’s the truth.
But it isn’t the whole truth, and we all know it.
My smile is wobbly at best, and my “Thank you so much” sounds like I’m apologizing for existing. “The receptionist told me to come this way. A man was mopping and…”
I trail off, silently willing the floor to open and swallow me whole.
Or for time to unwind, take me back five minutes, and ensure I get back to the main doors before the mopping starts. Or that I never went to the loo in the first place.
I didn’t have to go that badly! And if I hadn’t left, I never would have heard…
I wouldn’t have to know…
Tabitha and Anne emerge next, both of them looking even guiltier than Christoph. Anne, clearly the mother hen of the group, apparently feels compelled to apologize.
“We shouldn’t have been gossiping, sweetheart,” she says, patting my shoulder as they herd me back toward the boardroom. “I’m not sure what you heard, but we didn’t mean a thing by it.”
“Only good things,” Christoph assures.
“Exactly,” Tabitha agrees. “Lovely things.”
“And no one gets anywhere in this city without connections,” Anne adds. “There’s no shame in using them to open doors. If I had a connection to a Viscount’s family, you can bet I’d have much better seats at the opera.”
“And I’d have a standing invitation to that polo party they throw every summer,” Christoph says. “I can’t get enough of short men on horses.”
Tabitha titters. “Oh, me, either. But that’s probably because I’m not much bigger than a Hobbit myself.”