Page 55 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“Sorry, line one.”

I picked up and Gerhardt let loose like a firehose. Didn’t I know we had an agreement? Didn’t I know we’d had one for years? I wanted to tell him I barely knew who he was — some franchise owner from nowhere, New Hampshire — but I smiled, cleared my throat, and kept my voice smooth.

“Let’s start from the top. What kind of agreement?”

“A handshake agreement. Let me talk to your dad.”

My lip drew back in a snarl. I forced myself to relax. “I’m your contact now. We’ve been over this. Now, what can I?—”

“You can call him right now, is what you can do. Call him and he’ll tell you, I don’t pay for shipping. That’s been the way of it since you were in diapers.”

I pressed my thumbs to my temples, fighting a headache. “Shipping on what? Do you mean on your stock? Because that isn’t?—”

“Diapers! Call your dad!” And with that, he hung up on me. I dropped my head to my desk. My headset pinged again.

“The McAvoy meeting’s run into a snag. Smith’s getting legal in, but they need you down there.”

I closed my eyes. Thought of asteroids. My head pulsed and throbbed. “On my way,” I said, and heaved myself upright. McAvoy, McAvoy, what even was that? The radio network? Or were they suing us? One or the other. I guessed I’d find out.

A fresh volley of space debris hit on my way to the meeting, a call from insurance about someone we’d hired, some star on one of our lifestyle shows. He had problems, apparently, he hadn’t disclosed. The kinds of problems that made him hard to insure. I tapped on my headset.

“Could you get me someone in, uh… El Network casting? We’ve got a problem with our pick for Star Flippers.”

“Star Flippers isn’t El Network. That’s on El Life.”

I stopped mid-stride. El Life? What the fork was El Life?

“That means it’s a web series, so that’s our Toronto shop. They’re closed on weekends, so…”

“Call someone at home.” I flicked off my headset and barged into my meeting, into a whole fresh flurry of fire. I came out what felt like a whole lifetime later to a beep on my headset. Some angry Canuck. I let him chew my ear off for disrupting his weekend, then told him I needed a new star for Flippers. That set him off again, and I cut off the call. I pulled off my headset and massaged my sore ear, and stood for the first time all day in near-silence. The office had cleared out, everyone gone to lunch, only wasn’t it getting a bit late for lunch? It had to be coming on three, three thirty.

I woke my phone to check, and what I saw made no sense. Quarter to nine. Still morning. Still early. But I’d been to six meetings. Met Dad for…

Lunch.

My heart bottomed out. Lunch had been hours ago, which meant it was night. It didn’t look like night, still sunny outside, but these long summer days were tricky that way. Somehow, my whole day had slipped through my fingers, and Lana would be waiting.

“Oh, my God. Lana.”

I dug through my texts, and there she was.

Hey, you okay? Called Belden’s and let them know we’ll be late…

Canceled Belden’s. Ordering in.

This’ll look pretty stupid if you’ve just stood me up, but whatever. I need to know, are you okay?

I ducked into a meeting room and slammed the door, phone ringing already on Lana’s end.

“Pick up… pick up…”

Lana picked up. “Sam.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Today’s just been?—”

“You’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, but?—”

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