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Taking a deep breath, I pick the hairbrush up from my vanity and run it through my long, red locks of hair. I get more resistance than normal, trying to work out the knots, probably because of the way Blake’s fingers had tangledin it last night.
I don’t have time to try and style it nicely, so instead, I opt to put it up in a slicked-back ponytail with a knotted headband. For makeup, I only apply mascara and a bit of blush to attempt to bring color to my face. My already pale skin is void of any color due to the nerves coursing through my body.
I know I’m already running behind. Dad left no room for interpretation on how soon he wanted me at his office. Taking time to quickly get ready will surely set him off more than he already is.
The sheet falls to the ground as I walk into my expansive closet. Even with the size of it, it’s filled to the brim with clothes. It’s been on my to-do list to have one of my best friends, Emma, come over to take anything she wants.
Hangers scrape against the rod as I look through all of my options. I have no idea what I’m about to walk into, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to wear.
I finally opt for something nice because my job is to be a face of Bishop Hotels. I attend parties, show up to meetings, and overall, just do as I’m told.
I pull a Chanel two-piece set from my closet. It doesn’t take me long to get on a bra and underwear and slide my legs into a pair of stockings. Then, I step into the lavender skirt and matching jacket.
I’d love to spend more time picking out a matching pair of heels and a handbag, but I know I’m already on borrowed time. I pick out a simple pair of nude heels and go with the purse I used yesterday since everything I need is already in there.
I’m not surprised when I find Rick waiting for me in the lobby. He stands next to Franklin, my favorite doorman. The tight-lipped smile Rick gives me tells me enough.
I’m in trouble.
With a deep breath, I follow him out to the waiting town car. He doesn’t say anything to me. He normally comments on the weather or tells me a story about his newest grandchild. Today,he does neither, even though we’re finally getting a glimpse of fall weather in Manhattan.
Eventually, the silence gets the best of me. “How bad is it, Rick?”
His eyes dart to mine through the rearview mirror. “He wouldn’t tell anyone a thing. All I was told was to come get you and to hurry.”
I sit back in the dark leather, a chill running down my body.
“Thenreallybad,” I mutter under my breath, checking my phone once again and seeing nothing from Blake.
The feeling of dread never goes away. If anything, it gets worse in the short drive it takes to get to my family’s office building.
CHAPTER2
WINNIE
The elevator ride upto my dad’s floor seems like it takes an eternity. I thought Rick would come up with me, but he declined, saying he’d wait in the lobby. Heneverwaits in the lobby. Things only get more ominous when Louise, my father’s assistant and someone who’s pretty much an aunt to me, won’t even look up at me from her desktop computer.
“Good morning, Louise,” I say sweetly, hoping to get her to glance at me. She doesn’t.
“He’s been waiting for you,” she answers, still avoiding eye contact.
All I do is nod.
It’s better to get this over with. It truly can’t be that bad,right? The worst thing I’ve done is date someone hired by my family. Which isn’t something I should do, but it isn’t the end of the world.
I’ve always done as I’m told. Thisonething can’t be the reason my dad is this upset with me. The only problem is I haven’t done anything else. It’s the only thing that comes to mind when I think of what could be this urgent.
Maybe it has nothing to do with me at all. Maybe something is happening with the company.
My family has been in the luxury hotel business for generations. I know Dad has been working on some big projectsrecently. He’s needed me now more than ever to be in the public eye, for the public to see our family as approachable.
It’s one reminder my father has been telling me for as long as I can remember. I’ve been told from a young age that we’realwaysin the public eye. That our enemies are always watching—and my family has made plenty in this business—and because of that, we need to be ahead of the game.
His office doors feel heavier than normal as I push them open. I search his large office for him, taken aback by not finding him sitting at his desk. When my eyes do land on him, my stomach plummets.
He’s in the far corner of the room, a glass tumbler in his hand. It’s still morning. Even though he’s known to drink far more than he should, it isn’t normally this early.
“Dad?” His name comes out more like a question than anything. My mouth feels dry from nerves.
