Page 3 of When Sinners Fall
“Not today, Bella.” I don’t want her anywhere near what’s about to come out of me.
I don’t want anyone near me other than whichever guy gets my wrath.
CHAPTER TWO
WREN
Well, I’m back.
The familiar Tower of Americas completes the skyline I know so well from growing up in this town, and now I'll see it every morning on my walk to work.
Damn you, Paul.
One door closes, another opens and all that.
Bullshit.
That’s not what I believe.
But I did choose the rat-bastard. I didn’t read the warnings. Still, I don’t see why I've had to be the one to pick up, find a new job and move across the country. Well, actually, the job dictated the move. It came with a promotion and a juicy raise with the option of bonuses, but it also meant moving back home.
You give, and you take.
Mom and Dad were delighted I was home. Although, not so happy about my living arrangements. Thirty-four doesn’t mean anything to them, apparently, and I shunned Mom’s famous hospitality by finding an apartment right off the bat. She still thinks I need saving – like some damsel in distress. No, thank you. And if I hurt her feelings, I'm sorry, but I’m not going to live like a child anymore. She needs to remember I've been living away from home for the last seven years with no problem.
Besides, I’ll suffocate between work and my folks if I can't escape. I realised a long time ago that I need my own space to wind down and relax. Hell, just to be me. That's never going to happen in the family home with Mom hovering. Plus, I don’t have regular work hours. Certainly not when there is a big wedding looming.
My new job is at one of the premier event planning businesses in San Antonio, and it doesn’t get to boast that title with regular nine-to-five event specialists on the books. For the price tag we charge, we're at the beck and call of our clients in the run-up to the big day. Available twenty-four-seven, all at billable hours, of course.
It isn’t my dream job, but it is a job I'm ruthlessly good at. Organisation and a creative mind have landed me in events, and the more I've done, the better I've got. The Dean wedding back in Seattle cemented my reputation, and so Louisa Sage came calling when they heard I was on the market.
I sip my strong, black coffee as I walk through downtown towards the office. It’s already warm, but after being in Seattle, the sun feels nice. I take the route that follows part of the River Walk and keep an eye out for others minding their own business or enjoying a morning coffee while visiting. Behind my mirrored aviators, I can watch people and play my little game with them, turning these individuals into the main character of my twisted story, and putting them in harm's way of an evil queen or monstrous beast.
As a child, I loved to read, specifically fantasy novels. It occupied my overactive imagination. Now, I plan and cast them in my mind, building worlds of torment and danger, good versus evil, and the occasional romance. Although, the stories I build and the worlds they play out in aren’t always nice. They aren’t dream worlds or happily ever afters. And they certainly aren’t fairy tales. Ironic that when I walk through the doors to my office, I have to do everything in my power to create the best fairy-tale ending imaginable for my clients.
My lungs breathe in the cloying, humid air, and I count to three before I push open the doors, walk across the glistening lobby, swipe my access badge, and ride the elevator up to the fourth floor.
As the doors open, I leave behind any glint of twists and danger and prepare to embrace the princess-puff world of the white wedding.
“Morning, Wren.”
“Good morning, Wren.”
I muster a smile at the bubbly girls who greet me as I navigate the reception and other desks in the open-plan office. Louisa Sage herself sits in her throne room at the end of the floor. The rest of us have office ‘stations’ to meet with clients, present our design boards and other accomplishments. Floral arrangements sit on every inch of free surface space and even decorate the back wall. Table arrangements, centrepieces, favours, swathes of fabric and flowers all show off the pinnacle of our ability. They're designed to entice and give the bride, princess or birthday girl or boy a taste of what they could ask for.
Placing my now nearly empty coffee cup on my desk, I dump my bag in the corner, sit down at my chair, and switch my computer on. The gorgeous twenty-four-inch Apple screen looks every bit in keeping with the rest of the room and is one of the perks I don’t mind accepting.
This is my first week working for Louisa, and today I have my first bride consultation. Admin, an all-aspects run down of the inner workings of Louisa Sage, has kept me busy for now. The preferred supplies on account, introductions with the other executives, support staff, and my own admin have made me long for something to get my teeth into. Top of my own admin list is informing some of my regular clients that I am now working here.
Penny, who covers the reception, struts over to my table. Her gazelle-length legs and equally long and smooth hair make her look like she’s walking the runway.
“Wren, you have Ms Addison at ten. I’ve booked the conference room as Louisa instructed. I’m not sure of your preferred drink of choice?”
“I’m sorry, drink of choice?” I blink up at her.
“Yes. We offer beverages at all of our meetings. We make sure we stock the favourites of our staff.” She deadpans as if this was obvious.
“Right. Well, okay. Coffee. Black, and I guess a coke.” Neat whisky probably isn’t an option for during the day.
