Page 25 of Knotted

How does anyone even know about that? Did my mom start a fan club or something?

Before I can dwell on it, Ames chimes in with a grin. “Great interview, by the way. That story about you and the dog?—”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Irritation bubbles up. “I did not do an interview. And if that whack job publicist we hired went rogue, I’ll—” My words falter as my eyes land on the photo.

A tiny image of breathtaking beauty, full red lips tucked beneath oversized shades and a wide-brimmed hat, stares back at me, and suddenly, my brain short circuits.

I want to know everything about her—what makes her laugh, what keeps her up at night, what she’s thinking behind those mysterious glasses. How she takeshercoffee in the morning.

Instantly, I scan the byline. Hmm,The Herald. And?—

“Who the hell is Sydney Sun?”

Ames and Dean both shrug, clueless. Ames checks his phone. “Uh, boss? Your secretary’s trying to find you. Something about a finance meeting. Texting her now.”

“What?” I blink. “That meeting starts at ten.” I glance down at my wrist, and then it hits me like a wrecking ball.

My watch. It’s gone.

Goddamnit.

Jess gave me that watch a millennium ago when she and Mark were still bitter enemies. She saved up for months, scraping together every spare penny she could find. Some days, she even skipped meals just to make sure I got it.

That’s how much it meant to her—and to me.

And even though it’s chipped and only keeps time if I wind it twice a day, that watch has been with me through deployments around the world—a silent witness to my brightest moments and my darkest hours. Now, the closest thing I have to a family heirloom is MIA.

I can already picture my baby sister’s reaction. Jess won’t waste time crying over spilled milk. No, she’ll be too busy tightening those slender fingers around my throat.

The elevator doors slide open, and we spill out. I drag a hand down my face, groaning. “I’m about to take the fastest shower of my life and pray soap hits all the right places. Dean,stall the board. Ames, get anyone available on the team to start tracking my watch.”

They scatter while I storm down the hallway toward the locker room. The second the hot water hits my skin and I lather up, the buzzing under my skin sharpens. I have the sudden urge to deal with a certain plump-lipped beauty—maybe teach her a lesson...over my knee...

Not. Now!

I shove the impulse down and rinse off. I’ve got bigger fires at the moment.

Little Miss Sydney Sun will have to wait.

CHAPTER 9

Jules

The moment I step through the glass doors into the office, every head swivels in my direction. Which is bad. Anxiety slams into me, tightening its grip around my chest. It’s like senior year all over again. Except without the neon-colored braces or unfortunate perm.

My pulse pounds in my ears, each step slower than the last as I try to make sense of the sudden attention. And then it happens—they break out in applause. Clapping and cheering and...What. The. Hell?

Panic surges through me like a tidal wave. I speed up, desperate to reach the relative safety of my cubicle and Anabelle, Felix, and Scoop. “What’s going on?”

Anabelle’s face is lit up like Christmas morning. “You’re viral!” she squeals, practically bouncing in her seat.

The commotion dies down as Felix shoots me a glare, half teasing, half envious. “Ten thousand likes, bitch?”

What’s he talking about? My brain struggles to keep up. “There must be some mistake.”

“Oh, there’s a mistake all right. And here I thought you were low-key when you’re the queen of trending. Ten. Thousand.” He scoffs. “I busted my ass for weeks and barely scraped one thousand.” He blows a kiss dripping with drama. “Hate you, love you.”

Scoop leans back, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Well done, kid.”

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