Page 89 of Impossible Love

I take a long, hot shower, sighing as the water soothes my muscles. I stretch, roll my head, and try my best not to let the events of last night play like a film in my brain. Cal was rough and demanding. I was greedy and wanted everything he could give me and then some. It’s like the both of us had out-of-body experiences, as if we were blindly grasping, hanging on for dear life.

It was desperate and sad. And that sadness clings to me in the light of day, no matter how much I scrub.

I get dressed, refresh my coffee and finish my toast, and decide to call Millicent. Since I haven’t heard from my father after his initial explosion of rage, I plan to ask Millicent for an update, details on the mood since I decided to pull out of the Sulfur Springs deal.

The instant I pick up my phone, it rings in my hand.

“Weird. I was just calling you.”

“Not weird. I have ESP and possibly clairvoyance and telepathy. Is this a good time? You sound worn out.”

The psychic shit wouldn’t surprise me at all. In fact, it would explain a lot where my assistant is concerned because she picks up on everything. I’ve told her more than once that she would make a great interrogator.

“I’m fine,” I manage.

“Good. I need to tell you something.”

The change in her tone causes my lips to freeze in mid-coffee-sip. I place the mug on the bedside table. “Did he flip out on you? If he did, I’m so sorry, Millicent. I knew he’d be pissed, but I really hope he didn’t force you to sit there and witness his temper tantrum. He said he might fire me.”

“Whose tantrum?”

“My father! I thought—”

“Victoria, this isn’t about your dad. But please don’t freak out.”

“Too late.” Seriously, telling someone not to freak out is almost a guarantee that they will. “What’s going on?”

“First, let me assure you that I’m fine—”

“Oh, shit.”

“—but last night, two guys came to my house. They started questioning me about you, the Sulfur Springs acquisition plans, and anything you might have mentioned to me about your role in those BLM contract negotiations.”

“Excuse me?” I jump up, laptop flying across the bed, and my heart is in my throat by the time my feet hit the floor. “What do you mean questioning? Who were these guys?”

“They weren’t the FBI or securities and exchange or treasury or anything, if that’s what you mean. They were private investigators. They wouldn’t say, but I think it was pretty clear that the MacLaines hired them to poke around.”

I use my free hand to rub my forehead. So the MacLaines, or one MacLaine in particular—the one I seriously thought I might be falling in love with before last night’s bullshit—hired private investigators?

To look into me? My work on the contract renewal? And they harassed my assistant?

Am I a complete and utter idiot, or what? I’m a silly fool. I know better than to ever mix business with pleasure. That’s just bad business. And when the dust clears, there’s pain instead of pleasure.

I’ve been there before.

“Victoria? Hello? Are you still there?”

Chapter 47

Victoria

“I’m here, Millicent.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m leaving. Please arrange for the Renaissance jet to pick me up. I’ll pack and get a ride into Sweetbriar right away.”

“Um, your dad took the jet last night.”

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