Page 103 of Sinful Blaze

But lately? I’ve been feeling far more aggressive. Assertive. Fight more than flight.

The brothers end the meeting with a few final notes that fly in one ear and out the other. I just want to get back to my office and stare at the screen of my laptop for a good half hour until my brain simmers down to a silent mush.

“Thanks, Haze.” I squeeze her hand as we leave the conference room. “I owe you one.”

“Hardly. Count this as a freebie.”

But only ten minutes later, once I’m finally settled into my comfy chair and have my laptop set up, Todd pokes his head through the door. “Hazel has to field a shipment emergency. We need you to make the call to Conrad. No excuses,” he adds with a firm tone when I open my mouth to protest.

I take a deep breath. Then another.

And another.

I might as well practice my Lamaze breathing—what I’m about to do feels more stressful and painful than what childbirth might be.

But then, fuck it—just rip the Band-Aid.

The phone rings a couple times and for one fleeting, hopeful moment, I think I might be in the clear. Not my fault if he doesn’t answer, right?

“This is Conrad.”

Shit.

“Con—” I clear my throat; just the first syllable of his name lodges there like some stuck bug. “Conrad, hi. It’s me. Daphne.”

“Oh my God. Daphne!” He laughs, clearly elated. “Daphne, baby, it’s so good to hear from you!”

“Slow your roll. This is a professional call.”

“I don’t care what it is. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, and after those last texts… God, baby, I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you.”

I glance over to where my small trash can is nestled between the desk and the wall. Maybe I should scoot closer, just in case the nausea becomes overwhelming. “Once again, this is not a personal call. Strictly professional.”

“Baby—”

“Or I can hang up and pass the showing on to someone else.”

Conrad sighs into his phone. “Fine. What do you have for me?”

Literally nothing. And I’ll continue to have nothing for you until the day I die. “We need to set a date for the next showing. They’ll want something within the next month or so.”

“Ah, jeez. I’ve been working on a few pieces, but I don’t know… You know what? Ignore that. Ignore me. I’ll make it work.”

Oh, if only. “Great. When should we pencil this in for?”

Conrad sucks air through his teeth and takes a moment to respond. “I’m really going to have to go through my inventory to see what I have. Can we meet later today? I’ll bring a catalog.”

I pretend to be flipping through my planner while I shove down the bile creeping up my esophagus. I want so much to be too busy for a meeting I desperately don’t want to have.

But, to his credit, he is maintaining professionalism. He mentioned a catalog, and nothing else. That is a legitimate reason to meet.

In view of every security camera in this place, of course.

“I have one o’clock available. Hard stop at two, though.”

I can hear his face break into a grin. “Perfect. God, seriously, you don’t know how happy this makes me, Daphne. I’m really looking forward to this.”

He’s not going to hang up first, so I do it for both our sakes.

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