Chapter 123
Chapter 123:
“He’s stalling, Mom! He’s still obsessed with her!” she hissed. “He wouldn’t even look at the venue options p>
On the other end, Elouise Stein’s voice was crisp and measured. “Calm down. Men get cold feet. We just need to remind him of what he loses if he walks away p>
“He’s looking into Collins,” Aspen said. “And I’m going to help him. If we destroy Jocelyn, he’ll have no one else to look at p>
Meanwhile, at the Wolfe Hotel, Jocelyn sat at her desk in the low hum of the air conditioning, surrounded by security logs. She was combing through the access times for the executive floor, searching for any gaps Sloane might have exploited.
Her phone rang. The screen lit up: Gaston.
Her stomach performed a small, traitorous flip. She answered anyway.
Trendin on.com
“Hello p>
“Wife. We have a PR obligation.” His voice came through deep and calm, and the small hairs on her arms stood up despite herself.
Jocelyn leaned back in her chair. “What now? Another dinner where we pretend to share dessert p>
“Wedding photos. The press is asking why there are none,” Gaston said, his tone as matter-of-fact as someone ordering room service.
“Can we not just photoshop some? Put our heads on stock models p>
Gaston chuckled — a low, quiet rumble. “No. I booked a photographer and a location. We need to sell the narrative, Jocelyn. The investors love a romance p>
“Fine,” she conceded, checking her calendar. “When p>
“A week from Saturday. Clear your schedule. We’ll be gone for three days p>
Jocelyn sat up straighter. “Three days? Where are we going p>
“It’s a surprise. Just pack. And bring a swimsuit,” he added, and hung up.
She stared at the phone. A swimsuit. Three days. Just the two of them.
It’s just business, she told herself firmly. Just business.
The door to her office burst open.
Uncle Vincent stood in the frame, his face mottled red, his breathing labored — a man who had run a marathon in a wool suit.
“Your mother is on her way,” he spat, pointing a shaking finger at her. “And she is furious about Sloane p>
“Let her come,” Jocelyn said. Her voice was steady. Her hands were not.
Vincent sneered. “You think you’re tough, niece? You have no idea what you’ve started p>
He turned and left, the door swinging wide open behind him.
Jocelyn looked at the empty doorway for a long moment. Then she reached into her bottom drawer, unlocked it, and moved the small canister of pepper spray to the top drawer.
Just in case.
The revolving doors of the Wolfe Hotel spun with aggressive speed. Elouise Stein marched into the lobby like a general entering a conquered city. She wore a floor-length mink coat despite the mild October weather — a statement of dominance that announced money and cruelty in equal measure.
The lobby staff scattered. They recognized the look on her face. It was the look that preceded fired employees and broken things.