Page 4 of Inarticulate

“I should thank you for mentioning your connection with Penelope Augustine. My father was determined to send me to Seattle until you enlightened us. God knows I don’t want to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas in that hell hole. I appreciate you taking one for the team.”

She ground her teeth and trudged into her office. Seattle wasn’t a place she dreamed to be during the holidays either, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew it would be the perfect opportunity to regroup and reassess.

Spencer’s unenthusiastic work ethic had rubbed off on her. She’d become complacent and distracted. It was time to remind the father and son duo that she was an invaluable part of the team.

The best way to do that was to prove she wasn’t here to kiss ass, she was here to kick it.

Chapter Two

One week later.

Savannah tuggedher suitcase into the hotel suite and was thankful for the loud click of the door as it closed. Peace. Quiet. She wanted both, and lots of it. After enduring a three-hour delay at the airport, then sitting next to a mother with a newborn baby on the plane, her nerves were frazzled. And today hadn’t come close to the stressful week spent training her assistant, Rebecca, to take on new tasks, or the hours spent arguing with Spencer over how to run the profit reports, or the unending phone calls from the Seattle hotel in preparation of her arrival.

She needed a bath, or a glass of wine. Both would be best. Obviously, at the same time.

Staff had whispered nervously as she checked in. Their hope-filled eyes tracked her movements. They expected her to fix all their problems. And she would. She just needed a chance to catch her breath and start fresh tomorrow.

She dropped her handbag and the suitcase handle at the end of the short hall, and shuffled the five steps to plant face-first on the bed. Movement wasn’t necessary for the next twelve hours. She’d eaten an airport sandwich on the cab ride to the hotel, and staff didn’t expect to see her until morning. From now until then, she would rest in a coma-like state.

Within two minutes her mind was fading to black, sweet dreams hovering on the edge of her consciousness, then the loud trill of the suite phone tore a groan from her throat.

“Go away,” she mumbled into the comforter.

The phone continued to wail its siren call, disrespecting her plea. She gave a soft whimper and clawed her way to the other side of the mattress, picking up the receiver from the bedside table.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Hamilton, it’s Kelly from reception. I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s a man here asking to see you.”

She pressed her forehead against the pillow and closed her eyes. “Are you sure he’s here for me?” Nobody knew she was here. Nobody except hotel staff and her colleagues back in San Francisco.

“Um…” The receptionist’s nervous hesitation was clear. “He said he’s your cousin.”

Savannah pushed to a seated position and kicked off her heels. “Are you sure he asked for me?”

“Yes, ma’am. He asked for you specifically.”

“Come on, Savvy, let me know your room number.”

Savannah grinned at the masculine voice calling in the background. The tone was unfamiliar, far too deep for the teenager she knew from her childhood. But the long-forgotten nickname wasn’t. Dominic was the only person who called her Savvy.

“It’s okay,” she told the receptionist. “Send him up.”

“Will do.”

Savannah couldn’t wipe away the grin as she hung up the phone and padded to the bathroom. The unfavorable reflection in the mirror slaughtered her happiness. She looked like a drug addict. Her blouse was crushed, her light-brown hair a tattered mess. The bags under her bloodshot hazel eyes were something she couldn’t ignore, the dark smudges announcing her exhaustion, while her pale complexion told of an unfavorable amount of hours spent in a high-rise office without a glimpse of sun.

She rushed back into the main room of her suite and yanked her handbag off the floor. She scrounged for her compact concealer and dabbed it under her eyes with less than artistic flare. A quick slide of lipstick later and she was ready for the loud knock that echoed through the room.

Anticipation bubbled in her belly as she padded to the door and pulled the heavy wood open.

“Whoa.” She needed to raise her chin to meet Dominic’s eyes. “How long have you been on steroids?”

Dominic chuckled, his brilliant smile whacking her with a heavy dose of déjà vu. “Is that any way to greet your favorite cousin?”

He stepped forward and pulled her in for a hug. The scent of his aftershave was all wrong. The feel of his hard muscles, too. Her short and skinny cousin was nowhere to be seen. He was no longer the kid she remembered dragging her under the water on summer vacation. He was a man. Tall, broad, and professional.

“You got big.” She pushed back from his chest and scrutinized him from head to toe. His blond hair and blue eyes hadn’t changed, but everything else had, including the bump in his once perfect nose. “And you learned how to dress yourself.” His white collared shirt was in better shape than her blouse, not a crease in sight. His charcoal slacks and matching tie were in perfect order, too.

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