Page 154 of The Wrong Husband
I must sound like a fan girl, or someone who’s head-over-heels for my man; all three wear knowing smiles on their faces.
"Sorry about that. I’m still in the honeymoon phase,” I feel compelled to add.
Harper holds up her hand. "You don’t need to apologize or explain yourself. And for the record, I think your feelings are only going to get stronger with time."
"Thank you," I say softly.
"Aww." She reaches over and hugs me.
Harper really is the sweetest. Sometimes, I wonder how she puts up with my brother’s well-known temper and his bad attitude on the kitchen floor. I worry he'll walk all over her with his hostile disposition. Or perhaps, it’s because she’s so sweet and understanding, and such a romantic, she’s the perfect foil to his grumpiness?
Grace’s phone vibrates. She looks at the screen and sighs. "I’m so sorry, babe. I have to head back to work."
"Thought you were headed home?" Zoey scowls.
Grace hesitates. "I need to prep for a possible new show I’m working on." She pauses. "This time, as a producer."
"That’s wonderful news," I exclaim.
"Thanks." She looks pleased. "I’ve tried so hard to move into being a producer rather than being only on screen. These looks"—she gestures to her face—"won’t last forever. I want to avoid hitting thirty and losing out to a fresh face."
"Thirty is hardly old," Harper points out.
"Tell that to the producers and Heads of Programming, most of whom are men, which is why I want to break this ceiling."
I take in the determination on her face. "And you will," I say with certainty.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." She rises to her feet. "Iamreally sorry to leave so soon."
"Oh, please. I’m just happy you could come. I know how busy your schedule can be."
A shadow passes over her features. "I’m sorry about that. But I’m trying not to let my work consume my life. Trying to make time for what’s important, you know?"
I wonder who’s put that sad look in her eyes. Hoping to lift her spirits, I respond, "Don't I know it. I've allowed work to take over my life. I'm also learning to make time for a personal life."
Zoey and Harper rise to their feet.
"Are you leaving, too?" I look between them.
"The boss left me in charge of the restaurant. I need to get back to prep for the evening service.” Harper’s voice is filled with pride.
I’m glad James gave her the responsibility of keeping things running in his absence. She’s an amazing chef who deserves every success.
Zoey walks around, and when I rise to my feet, she hugs me. "I’d better get along, as well. "
Harper, too, hugs and kisses my cheek, then the three walk out. I take another sip of my coffee, before abandoning it completely. I take a bite of my sandwich. It tastes like cardboard, but I force myself to finish it. I know better than to go back to my shift on an empty stomach. I need the energy. When I’m done, I walk over to place my tray on a cart at the far end of the canteen.
I'm startled by a voice behind me. "Phoenix?"
I turn to find Brody standing behind me, and James is next to him. James holds a phone in a white-knuckled grasp. The other one is raised, palm face up. His jaw is hard. His face is expressionless, but something in his eyes makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. I shake my head. "No."
James’ throat moves as he swallows.
"Phoenix"—his voice is gentle but with an urgency running through it—"it’s Connor."
53
Phoenix
