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Back at the office there’d be no cucumber waters with sprigs of mint and the most adorable woman dressed in nothing more than a white fluffy robe that hid a lacy hot pink set of lingerie. His mouth grew dry as he recalled how Kayla had stared at him over the rim of her glass with those alluring green eyes.
He drew his thoughts to a sharp halt. He reminded himself that his regular PA should be returning from her maternity leave soon—real soon. If he could just keep it together a little longer, his life would return to normal. But why didn’t that sound so appealing any longer?
* * *
It doesn’t matter.
Kayla kept repeating that mantra to herself, wishing her heart would believe it. Three days had passed since she’d woken up alone after a night of lovemaking. How could Angelo just slip away into the night without a word? Did he know how much it would hurt her? Did he even give her feelings any consideration?
It doesn’t matter.
Today was the day they learned whether their royal wedding pitch had been accepted or not. Kayla replayed the presentation in her head. She couldn’t help wondering—if she hadn’t been so distracted by the problems with the fund-raiser and with her growing feelings for Angelo could she have done more? She worried her bottom lip. For months and months, she’d done everything to be the best employee, and now that it counted, she’d lost her focus. She’d let herself fall for her boss’s mesmerizing eyes, devilish good looks and charms.
It doesn’t matter.
Dismissing their time together was his choice. Why should she let it bother her? She didn’t need him. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the memories of being held in his arms—of the tender touch of his lips. How could such a special night go so terribly wrong? Had she totally misread what Angelo had been telling her?
None of it matters!
She had important work to do. Angelo had just departed for his brother’s villa to speak to him about their sister. Kayla had declined his stilted offer to take her with him. She may have made a mess of things with Angelo, but there was still time to pull together the after-school program fund-raiser.
Kayla focused on the email she was composing to the manager of another New York City band. She could only hope they had a cancellation because the most popular bands were booked well into the future. With her name typed at the bottom, she reread it, making sure it contained plenty of appeals to the man’s generous side. After all, who could possibly turn down a group of needy kids? She sure couldn’t. Once she was certain there weren’t any typos, she pressed Send, hoping and praying that this appeal to the Spiraling Kaleidoscopes would turn things around.
Her thoughts immediately turned to her faltering career at Amatucci & Associates. She grabbed frantically for some glimmer of hope that there was a way to get back to their prior boss-employee relationship. But every time Angelo looked at her, her heart ached and her mind went back in time to those precious moments they’d spent together, wondering if any of it was real.
Ending things now was for the best. It was all of this talk about a wedding that had filled her head with these ridiculous romantic notions. And after working so closely with Angelo these past few weeks, it was only natural that she would project them onto him. The truth was that she wasn’t ready to fall in love with him—or anyone. She didn’t want to settle down yet. She still had her dreams to accomplish and her career to achieve.
A message flashed on the computer screen. She had a new email. Her body tensed and she said a silent prayer that it would be good news.
She positioned the cursor on the email and clicked, opening the message on to the screen:
To: Kayla Hill
From: Howard Simpson
RE: Spiraling Kaleidoscope Booking
Thanks so much for thinking of us for your fund-raiser. I am sorry but we are already booked solid for that weekend, in fact, we’re booked for the month. Next time consider booking well in advance.
The backs of Kayla’s eyes stung. She continued to stare at the email, wishing the letters would rearrange themselves into an acceptance letter, but they refused to budge. This was it. She was out of ideas and out of time. No other band at this late date was going to be available.
Another email popped into her inbox.
To: Ms. Kayla Hill
From: Ms. Stephanie Dyer, Public Relations, Paper Magic Inc.
RE: ICL after-school program fund-raiser
It has recently come to our attention that the fund-raiser no longer has a headline performer. And it is therefore with great regret that we will have to pull our sponsorship...
Her vision blurred. She’d made a mess of everything. And she had no idea how she was ever going to face the children of the after-school program and tell them that she’d let them down—that the doors of the center were going to close.
Just then the door of the suite swung open. It must be the maid. Kayla swiped a hand across her cheeks and sniffled. She was a mess. Hopefully the cleaning lady wouldn’t notice. And if she did, hopefully she wouldn’t say anything.
“I’ll just move out of your way.” Kayla closed her laptop, preparing to move down to the pool area to work.
“Why would you have to get out of my way?”
