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“Are you going to make the 8:30 Lennox meeting?”
Shit. I had every intention of waking up in New York this morning. But there wasn’t going to be enough time to keep the appointment. I looked at my reflection in the ornate mirror. I couldn’t tell if they were going for a French or Italian theme in here. My stubble was filling in. I rubbed my jaw. I needed a shower and a shave.
“No, I had something come up.”
“What kind of something?”
“I don’t think you can ask me that, can you?”
Sasha breathed heavily into the phone. “How am I supposed to manage your schedule if you don’t tell me when things change?”
“Why don’t you take the meeting for me?”
“You are the spokesperson. It’s not going to be the same coming from me. The launch is next month. You can’t spring something like this on investors. You know how easily they get cold feet.”
“Then make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“It won’t happen if you’re here. Where are you, Jeremy?”
It wouldn’t take much for her to track the jet if she started digging. “In Asheville.”
“North Carolina? What happened? Did you have weather issues?”
I was only going to make one statement announcing my marriage to Evie. Sasha could learn when the rest of the world did.
“I needed to take care of some family business. I’ll be back in New York before lunch. You can either move the meeting or handle it for me.”
“I don’t like either of those options,” she snapped.
The truth was, I didn’t either.
“Let me know what you decide. I’ll text you when I’m back in New York.”
“This isn’t going to play well with the investors.”
“It never does.” I shook my head. I hung up, tossing the phone across the marble countertop. I didn’t want lectures, or business advice from my assistant.
I splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. My marriage was going to come as a shock to her. I reached for a towel and dried my cheeks and chin.
I looked back and forth between the shower and the wide soaking tub sitting in the middle of the honeymoon bathroom. I glanced at the door over my shoulder. Why not take a few more minutes to relax before we flew home?
I turned the heavy brass knob and watched the tub begin to fill with hot water. I unlocked the door. Evie was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes lifted toward mine.
“I need you in here, Mrs. Hartwell.”
She dropped the magazine on the bed.
“You do?” Her eyes were playful.
“Now,” I growled.
The sheet fell from her body as she walked toward me. Her hips swayed with every step.
“What is it?” She stood in the doorway, looking up at me.
I nodded toward the tub. “Look like fun?”
She bit her lower lip. “God, that looks amazing. Every part of me is sore.”
