Page 188 of Savage Suit

Joe, that fucking asshole, had tipped them off.

Growling in frustration, I tried to go forward, then swung around to return to my apartment. In every direction, I met human barricades. The moment I spied a small opening, I shot through it, running as fast as possible in the stilettos. It wasn’t that I couldn’t run in heels. It was how much slower I moved in them.

They were hot on my ass, chasing me down the block and circling me like sharks when a heel snapped and I went sprawling, landing hard on my right knee. Instead of helping me, my fall sent them into another frenzy. When I got to my feet, I saw Sandy parked a couple of cars down.

The photographers didn’t leave me alone, but they allowed me to limp to Sandy, get in and drive away. In the parking garage, I realized I needed shoes. Maybe the maintenance department had super glue. I’d go straight to my office, call for the glue, and tidy up until someone brought it to me.

I removed my shoes, shocked the broken heel hadn’t caught on any of the car pedals. Thank goodness for small favors.

The heating system in the building was topnotch, so I took off my coat, not wanting the hassle of carrying it. As I locked my door and limped toward the glass doors leading to the elevators, my phone rang. Reaching my office and asking Billy for a fuckton of ice was more important. My fucking knee hurt.

Those assholes.

The ringing stopped, indicating voicemail had picked up. Immediately, another call came through. Maybe I imagined urgency, or maybe it was my shitty day, but I leaned against Sandy, set my shoes on the hood, and got my phone out of my purse. Not in time, because it stopped before I answered. When it rang again, I answered immediately.

“Ryan?”

The male voice was vaguely familiar. “Yes?”

“Three times the charm, huh, girl?”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed. “This is Channing Powers. Are you ready for that presentation?”

Today? Fuck no. “Y-yes, of course, Mr. Powers. I also have updates on the commemorative perfume. How are you?”

“Can’t complain. And you?”

“Fine. What—”

“I asked how you were feeling, Ryan,” he chided. “Not about how gorgeous and shapely you are.”

I laughed nervously. “That’s a little out of line, sir,” I told him as gently as I could because he was more than out of line. “I’m running a little late,” I said, forging ahead. If I gave him too much time to dwell on my reprimand, he might take issue. “If we could schedule the meeting for after lunch, I’d be so grateful.”

“The brothers have moved the meeting to Paris.”

“I-I don’t have a passport,” I admitted. “I will talk to Noah about who can go in my place. I brief him every day, so he might give the presentation himself.”

“Noah isn’t the best choice. He and Claude don’t get along. And we’re expecting you as the account manager. Talk to Reid about an expedited passport. He’ll get it done.”

I doubted it, but I’d take Channing’s advice. My mind spun with everything I needed to do before next Thursday’s… “The meeting’s on Thanksgiving.”

He laughed. “Aren’t you a doll? There’s no such holiday in France. It’s business as usual.”

“You’re right, of course.” There would be many more Thanksgivings to spend with my family. It’s just that I wanted to invite Noah. If he would’ve accepted, it would’ve been our first holiday together. We’d celebrated Halloween, but not on the actual day. “It’s been a long morning,” I added into the silence.

“I know that feeling. Sauncier will make their presentation the same day,” he informed me in his quick change of subject. “They’ve requested you to present first.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Claude intends for both account managers to be at the meeting. I suppose Sauncier wants you up first so they can piggyback on your words and adjust accordingly.”

Shit.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. On the contrary, the brothers and Boyd have repeatedly sung your praises since your first meeting.”

“Thank you for that. I hope it is as effective this time and the Sauncier manager doesn’t outshine me.”