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I frown, pulling it out, and when I read the name Ambrose Logistics on it, my heart almost stops.
This must be the infamous Ambrose contract.
The one Sienna said she sent out this morning.
The one that she must have instead put at the bottom of the stack on my desk.
Panic seizes me, but I don’t have time to freak out. This has to go out today, and if it doesn’t and it’s on my desk, I already know I’m going to be blamed for it. It’ll be Sienna’s word against mine, and I don’t want to run the risk of finding out who the bosses will believe.
I snatch up the envelope and dash down the hall.
“Has the courier left yet?” I ask, already out of breath.
One of the assistants looks up and nods. “Just headed out. You might still be able to catch him if you hurry.”
I nod my thanks and take off, ignoring the elevator and rushing down the stairs two at a time. All I can hear is the pounding of my own heart and the blood rushing in my ears as I burst out the stairwell and into the lobby.
My head is spinning, and I already feel a bit lightheaded. I should have had lunch today probably. Powering through the day on nothing more than the bagel and cup of coffee I had this morning was probably not the best idea.
But that’s one of those hindsight kind of things.
I dash through the lobby, trying to see the courier, not paying much attention to anything, until I run right into a solid mass.
The scent hits me like a brick wall, cinnamon rolls, espresso, toasted nuts. Tristan. The force of it makes me feel even dizzier than I already did, and I try to breathe through my mouth, waiting for the spell to pass.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp out. “I’m sorry. I just really need to catch the courier. I need to?—”
I push past him, stumbling out of the building and onto the street. I feel unsteady, clammy, flashing hot and cold as I go. My throat burns like I’m going to be sick, but I can see the courier in the distance, the familiar colors of his uniform standing out.
The people around me do double takes, strange looks flashing over their faces as they look at me. Maybe because I’m a sweaty mess, chasing a man down the street.
My head is spinning and it feels hard to breathe, like I can’t get enough air in or the air is too thick to go in properly. It’s like there’s a weight pushing down on me, and I stumble a little. There’s a sound in my ears, like a whistling from down a tunnel, and as I search for the courier in the people on the street, darkness rushes in instead, and I’m out cold before I even hit the pavement.
Chapter 7
Penelope
My head hurts.
My knees ache.
My mouth feels dry and when I open my eyes, the room spins around me.
For a second, it feels like I’m going to be sick, stomach rolling, but I breathe through it, not moving until I’m sure I’m not going to throw up.
I blink in the light, glancing around, and it hits me that I have no idea where I am.
Someone moves in my periphery, and I turn my head to see Xavier leaning against the wall. Dominic isn’t far away, and Tristan is sitting behind the desk at the far end of the room.
“What—” I start, but my voice sounds raspy, so I clear my throat and start again. “What happened?”
“You passed out,” Xavier says kindly. “On the sidewalk in front of the building. Someone ran in and let us know.”
“And where am I now?” I ask, glancing around. It’s a posh office, more sterile than Xavier’s or even Dominic’s.
“My office,” Tristan says quietly. “It was the closest.”
My heart skips a beat, and judging from the toasted nut and coffee scent I can smell around me, Tristan must have carried me here himself.