Page 77 of When Sinners Fall
Working and being independent have always been so important to me, despite any personal differences I've shared with my clients. Just because I don’t emulate their dreams, it doesn't mean I can’t do a damn good job designing and delivering them.
“Ms Addison, please, let me reassure you that everything is in hand, and can I also remind you that if you stopped calling every few days, I’d be able to work on your wedding and not just listen to you.”
I hang up.
I’m going to regret that, but really, the woman is beyond ridiculous, considering how early we are in her planning. She’s driving me crazy.
Sure enough, two hours later, my phone vibrates with a message from Louisa Sage. I’ve already ignored her first message, so I grab my bag and phone and step outside. If I'm going to have to fight for my job, I want a decent coffee.
As soon as I clear the floor, I text her.
Just stepped out. Will come to your office in fifteen.
I bump against a man’s shoulder as I’m texting.
“Oh, excuse me.” He steadies me with his hands as I teeter off balance.
“No problem.” I smile and go to turn away.
“I’m sorry, but did you come out of Louisa Sage's offices?”
“Um, yeah.” My brows pull together. It’s not every day that a guy knows who Louisa Sage is, let alone their office location.
“I’ve been meaning to book an appointment for weeks. You see,” he shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I asked my girlfriend to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Congratulations.” My remark is measured.
“Thank you, but really, that was the easy part. Now I have to deliver the wedding of her dreams. I heard you are the best for that.” He looks at me expectantly.
“Well, thank you.” I smile. Part of me wants to just rush to grab my coffee and head back, but this man could be a potential client. Who am I to turn down an open enquiry? “I’d be happy to make an appointment. I’m just grabbing a coffee, and then we can head up to the office to set you up.”
“That would be excellent. Hey, and let me get you that coffee. Maybe running into you was a sign.”
“Perhaps, but it’s really not necessary.” I start to move away towards the shop, uneasy about something. “I’ll just run in, and then-”
As I turn, a cloth is smothered over my face, and a pungent chemical smell burns my nose. My arms and legs thrash, but it feels like I’m falling into blackness.
So fast.
Dante!
~
My head feels heavy.
I force my eyes to open, but it’s still dark.
And I’m in a bed.
Did I drink?
My mind slowly kicks into action, and a few snippets fill in the blanks. The images jump-start my adrenaline, and I bolt upright.
This isn’t my room. Hell, where am I?
My stomach rolls as I stand up and look about the room for my bag. There’s no phone, either. The door looms large at the end of the bed, and I creep over towards it. Grabbing the handle, I press down, anticipating it to be locked, but it’s not. Instead, it cracks open, and I peer out.
There’s nobody outside. I double-check, looking both ways, open the door and head out. Turning left, I come to a dead end, so retrace my steps and find a grand staircase at the other end. A chandelier hangs over the hallway below, but still no sign of anyone. Something doesn’t add up, and I have this weird humming in the back of my head like I’m waiting for the axe to fall. My hands grip the wrought-iron bannister as I take one step at a time. The marble floor is cool under my feet, and I must have lost my shoes at some point but didn’t notice until now.
