Page 27

“An uncharacteristic warm front surges through New York City, sending torrents of rain instead of snow to the streets of Manhattan. Drivers are warned to be extra careful on the roads as wet and icy conditions may cause hydroplaning—”

I click out of the weather forecast video on my browser and stride to the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office at Fleur.

Lightning splinters the gloomy sky, the bruised clouds sinking low on the horizon.

Muted sounds of traffic and screeching tires filter up from the streets, the heavy rain making it difficult to make out the details of the ruckus in the city.

Despite the dreary weather and the somber surroundings, a sharp energy sizzles through me.

I’m a live wire, ready to combust.

Because tonight is ghost pepper curry night.

And I’m going to propose to her.

For real. With a ring.

Taking out the classic Tiffany’s blue box from the inner pocket of my suit, I flip open the lid and marvel at the glittering gems nestled inside a bed of black velvet.

A halo of clear diamonds surrounding a three carat, round-cut, flawless red diamond—one of the rarest diamonds out there—the color of the hummingbird’s belly on my cuff links and in the stained glass window at the library.

A shade that’ll forever remind me of her fiery tresses and the life and energy that is Alexis Vaughn.

I thought I’d be nauseous.

I thought my palms would be clammy .

But I’m not.

I’m beside myself with anticipation.

I want to see my ring on her finger.

I want to show the world this woman is mine.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” I close the lid and slide the box back into my pocket.

“Delaney. The auditors are here and they’re giving the team a lot of grief over sample selections. I need your help to run this because the fucking lawyers are on my case.” Trey saunters in and runs his hand through his hair.

He’s been extra stressed lately because he’s going through a contentious divorce.

I told him I could take on more work to help him out—budget approvals, cash flow analyses—but he said he got it, that keeping busy was good for him.

“I got this. How many selections did they pull?” I walk back to my seat and pull up the audit portal.

“Five-fucking-hundred, and this is just for the Kensington Hotels division alone.”

“What? Who the hell has time to pull all that for them?” Ridiculous.

They can pull the shit themselves.

“That’s what I said. But we’re on a deadline and come hell or high water, we need to file the 10K with the SEC for the sub. Talk some sense into them, will you? Their partner is coming on site in an hour to discuss our concerns.”

My earlier good mood instantly evaporates.

The looming deadline to file the annual financials to the Securities Exchange Commission for our publicly traded subsidiary.

And Chuck Raynes, the audit partner, is an asshole—smug as shit and looks down at anyone who’s younger than thirty because he deems us as unworthy of his time.

If it weren’t for the board liking him so much, I’d ask Dad to fire him.

That motherfucker.

Little does he know, I own this department, and my official coming out as Ethan Anderson is quickly approaching.

Dad wants me to announce it after the 10K filing.

He thinks I’m ready to take on more responsibilities, work closer with him and Maxwell, and eventually take on the CFO role.

An hour later, I’m knee deep into a stare down with Chuck.

“We’re not paying for this. It’s overkill. I won’t subject my department to this nonsense.”

Chuck arches his brow at my emphasis on my department.

His senior manager, a quiet brunette who looks like she wants to shrivel up in her seat and die, speaks up, “Delaney, the new guidance indicates we need to—”

“Guidance is to be interpreted and executed by you.” I hold up my hand.

“Surely, this is why you test our controls, right? I’m not an auditor, but if we passed your control testing with flying colors, why the hell are you wasting our time in pulling POs, cash receipts, and God knows what for all these transactions? It’s sample testing, not coverage testing. Come on, Martha.”

“Delaney, you’re smart and Trey favors you,” Chuck begins, the condescending tone already grating in my ears, “but like you said, you’re not an auditor, so you don’t understand how the PCAOB and SEC are cracking down on Fortune 500 audits now.”

Martha shifts in her seat, a blatant tell if there ever is one.

I tamp down the impulse to roll my eyes.

This is getting ridiculous.

“I get it, but I disagree with—”

My phone buzzes on the table.

Nova.

I send it to voicemail.

I’ll call her later.

Maybe she’s confirming our plans to meet at Bhut Kitchen in two hours.

Or maybe she’ll tell me what’s been bothering her since she came back from her ballet event last night.

I asked her earlier, but she said it wasn’t anything I should be worried about.

“I disagree with you,” I begin again, “because your approach makes no sense. The guidance—”

My phone buzzes again.

Nova.

My pulse ricochets—the foreboding reminding me of what I felt last week when the winds barreled against the windows at the apartment.

She’s not canceling on our dinner, right?

Hairs stand on the back of my neck as my palms grow sweaty.

What the fuck, Ethan.

Even if she cancels, you can always reschedule.

But something doesn’t sit right with me.

“Excuse me,” I murmur, holding up my phone, “I need to take this.”

Chuck swivels in his seat, a smarmy grin on his face.

He and Martha whisper as I step outside the room and answer the call.

“Lexy, is everything okay?” I pat my suit, feeling the ring box nestled safely in my pocket.

But this time, it doesn’t give me the same feeling of security.

Instead, I hold my breath, bracing myself for whatever she’s going to say.

“E-Ethan. I n-need y-you.” Her voice sounds shaky, but it could be static because the reception isn’t good and the roaring winds and rain make it damn impossible to figure out what’s what.

“What? Sorry, I’m in a dead zone. Just stepped out of an important meeting.” Quickly, I make a right and walk to a quiet corner by the windows.

“Is this better? Can you hear me?”

“I c-can hear y-you. Something u-urgent came u-up. Will be driving. Can’t find Charles. W-Will come to y-you.”

Urgent?

Charles? The unease simmering in my gut before is now a category 5 hurricane.

I look out the windows but can barely see anything outside.

A thick fog has rolled in, twisting with the rain into something otherworldly and sinister.

“Need me to find you? Pick you up? The roads are bad outside.”

Alexis doesn’t drive a lot, usually opting to walk or take public transportation.

She rarely uses her family’s drivers or car services.

It’s something I like about her—she has no airs.

If you meet her on the street, you won’t know she comes from money.

I hear honking in the background and strain to listen to her response.

“B-But you’re in an i-important meeting, right?”

“Yeah, but if you need me, I can get out of it.” It’ll disappoint Trey, and Chuck will make sure Dad and Maxwell know about it.

I grimace, thinking about excuses I’ll need to make up to get them off my back.

We Andersons don’t shirk from our responsibilities.

A frantic gasp comes across the line.

“Ethan…I-I’m so—”

The hairs rise on the back of my neck.

“Lexy? What’s going on? I’m worried. You sure you don’t need me to come get you?”

Screw Chuck and my brothers.

Alexis needs me. I walk toward the conference room, intending to call the whole meeting off.

“I-I’ll tell you about it w-when I see you. Y-You’re busy. Don’t come. I’ll call you when I g-get there.”

The line cuts off abruptly and my stomach flips as I stare at the screen—a photo of Lexy with her back turned toward me, her vibrant hair draping over her back as she stares out the hummingbird window.

Acid makes its way up my throat and I have the sudden urge to throw up.

She’s fine. It’s probably the poor reception making everything sound odd.

Alexis can take care of herself.

You don’t need to worry about her.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath before expelling the stale air from my lungs.

My skin is clammy and I wonder if I’m coming down with a cold.

She’s fine. She’s fine.

She’s fine.

The chant reverberates in my mind as I straighten my shoulders and put on my game face.

I need to take care of this shit with Chuck. She’s fine.