Page 183 of Forgot to Tell You Something

“Love you more.”

* * *

“Aren’t you chipper this morning?” Stefani remarks, sending me a wink.

“Life is good,” I respond, grabbing the laptop from my office. “I’m headed to yet another fun-filled meeting.”

“How many of those do you have per day?”

“Seems like a million, but likely closer to a hundred. But this meeting has some sexy as hell eye candy for my viewing pleasure.”

“So unfair, keeping Dr. Stevens all to yourself.” I know the woman is joking. Stefani is thrilled that Owen and I finally worked things out.

“Says the woman who’s doing the horizontal mambo with Dan.”

“I am not.”

“Liar, liar.” Hey, she is lying. I have it on good authority—namely, Dan’s—that he and Stefani are exclusive. Judging by the looks they shoot each other, they’re also in love.

“Hey, Lu, before you go, there was a call for you.”

“Who was it?” I inquire, sucking down the last of my water.

“I don’t know. Some guy. He wanted to speak with you and when I asked who was calling, he hung up. He sounded a bit creepy.”

“Everyone sounds creepy to you. He probably got disconnected. No big deal. He’ll call back. I’ll see you later today.”

I’m so glad that the training center is opening next week. That means I won’t have to see Charlotte’s perfectly sculpted face again. Oh, she’s been pleasant since the celebration dinner, but I can see it in her face that she would like nothing better than to claw my eyes out.

Some people are such sore losers.

Thankfully, Daddy has her on a short leash. Turns out, blood isn’t always thicker than water. Dollar signs trump either, and Mr. Auerback knows that Owen is a top-notch investment.

Even though Charlotte handed the coordinator position to someone else, Owen and Ken have asked me to sit in on some meetings, as a consultant of sorts. I know they feel guilty about the situation, but the meetings aren’t all bad. I have a hell of a good time torturing Charlotte.

Hey, the woman earned it in spades.

I glance at my buzzing phone. Another text from my man.

Owen:Well? Can we get our marriage certificate this week?

I shake my head, chuckling at his persistence. He may have said that I didn’t have to answer him right away, but it’s obvious he’d like one. In the affirmative, preferably.

Me:I love it when you beg.

Owen:That is not an answer, Tally.

Me:Close enough.

I turn the corner; the blood freezing in my veins. There, directly in my path, is Earl.

Now I realize who placed the earlier phone call to my unit, and I’m fairly certain the man doesn’t want to wish me a belated Merry Christmas.

With trembling fingers, I reach into my scrub pocket for my phone, praying that I’ll get a call off to security before he sees me.

Too late.

His head swings in my direction, his eyes narrowing when they catch sight of me. “There you are. I thought you’d be harder to track down, but it turns out your coworkers are more than willing to give you up.”

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