Page 21 of Snow Harm, No Foul

Greyson blinks at me, digesting all that I’ve said. When he recovers, he looks pleased, his features relaxing.

“What about the bar itself? I assume all of this will be taking place outside, but surely Niko hasn’t allowed for there to be nothing bringing traffic into his territory.”

I swallow my immediate response. If I told him that I’m pretty sure Niko would allow just about anything if I asked him to, he could pull me off the project, and I’ve put too many hours into this to have it stolen from me.

“I’ve tried to leave control up to him on that front, but I have given a few suggestions, like an eating challenge with an enticing prize or a raffle of some sort. Honestly, I think most people will go into the bar on their own without any sort of incentive.”

“And he agrees with you?”

I sure hope so.

“As far as I know, yes.”

“This is good work, Ivy,” he says.

My cheeks heat. “Thank you, Grayson.”

“I assume you have another meeting set up with Niko before the event? We’re only a week away, and as great as this sounds, I need you to make sure things stay moving according to plan.”

“Of course.”

Shit.

He taps his hand to the wall and nods. “I’ll leave you be, then. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Will do?—”

I cut myself off with a hand to my mouth. My skin turns cold to the touch as I shoot off my seat and shove past my boss into the hallway.

For the hundredth time this week, my stomach rolls, and my throat burns with vomit. The bathroom is unoccupied when I shove my way inside and immediately wretch into the toilet. Cool skin heats until I’m breaking out in a sweat.

It only goes on for a few minutes before my stomach settles, and I lean back on my heels. My hand trembles when I press the back of it to my forehead and take a deep breath.

Every time I think the flu has moved on from me, it comes back with a vengeance. It’s frustrating, considering the majority of the day, I’m just fine. No nausea or exhaustion.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Surely not. There’s no way. I’m on birth control. I have been since I was sixteen and my mom sat me down and gave me the sex talk. And Niko, well,surelyhe’s too old to have that many sperm. Right? I know I let him screw me without a condom on, which, yeah, was super irresponsible, considering we didn’t talk about STDs or anything, but . . .

I touch my cheeks and widen my eyes as the potential reality of this hits me upside the head with a brick.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door that I know I left open, and then Grayson’s voice slips through the crack.

“Are you ill, Ivy?”

“Yes,” I squeak, rising on shaky knees to wash my hands.

“Do you need to go home?”

I let the water run cold and cup some to swish in my mouth and splash on my face. Spitting the water into the sink, I dry my hands on a paper towel.

“I’d appreciate if I could,” I reply.

“Are you decent? Can I open the door?”

My stomach is unsettled for a completely different reason as I pull the door open on my own and dab my mouth with the damp paper towel.

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