Page 2 of Corporate Escapades

“Paris was shocked. Vic was a giver. There was no doubt about it, but outside of work, they were not friends. Stepping down from the stage, she met him at the cashier’s cage. “Why’d you do that?” she asked quietly.

“I know you’re hurting. I don’t want you to suffer through some stuffy date. Besides. I planned to make a high bid on the auction either way. We can go to dinner and discuss work or say nothing for all I care. You get a free meal and some peace of mind, knowing your date isn’t trying to take you home with them.” He looked at her with sincerity in his eyes.

“Thanks,” she replied. “You’re too kind.”Paris’s mind faded to black.

“When will she wake up?” asked a muffled voice.

Staring into the light, a figure came into view. Paris’s heart swelled with happiness as she recognized the smiling face. “You’re here!”

“Paris. You need to wake up. You can’t be here. Not yet.”

“I don’t want to go back,” said Paris. “I’m tired and everything hurts. I can’t do this anymore. I miss you.”

“If you don’t go back, you’ll create the same pain you’re feeling for those who love you. You have a lot more work to do. You have other lives to save. Your purpose isn’t fulfilled.”

The light faded and Paris was again in the dark. She could feel water trickling down her face as her sorrow seeped out.

Two days had gone by and Paris had not awoken. Her mother, father, and ex-friend, Mya, sat by her side, waiting. In the early hours of the morning, she mumbled something barely audible.

“What’s that, honey?” asked Paris’s mother. Her father moved closer and waited.

Mya exhaled, and a tear floated down her cheek. “I think she said Touch a Heart Fest.”

Chapter two

One Year Earlier

“Paris! Open up! Today’s the day! Setup for Touch a Heart Fest is about to begin!” Not even the devil himself could wipe the grin from Mya Jones’s face. Mya couldn’t sit still. The idea of helping others exhilarated her. It was one huge thing she and her best friend, Paris, had in common. She and Paris’s sister, Alli, stood in the hallway of the condos where Paris lived. Mya swayed as she waited for her bestie to answer the door. She held a bouquet of balloons in one hand and a carrier of coffee in the other. She nudged Alli, who hit the door buzzer again.

Alli frowned. “You think she’s still in bed?” Tapping her foot, she pressed the buzzer two more times.

“She’d better be in there,” replied Mya. “She took Mr. Radke and his family out to dinner last night to celebrate their son’s engagement.”

“Why’d she do that?” Alli asked, her brow furrowed.

“The Radke’s have been with us for years. Taking them out for dinner is Paris’s way of saying thanks, and a way to gain their son’s future business. His wedding will bring in boatloads of money for the company.”

“Does she do things like that often?”

“Yeah,” replied Mya. “She loves to schmooze her clients. She genuinely cares about them. While you were away during your freshman year of college, she helped find a bone marrow donor for the Makenzie’s daughter, Jenny. Your sister always goes the extra mile.”

“It sounds like it. Hopefully, one day, I’ll be as big of an asset to our family company as she is.”

“I’m sure you will,” said Mya. “I mean, you’ve been away for four years. Writing and hosting sommelier events are not the same as modeling and working in the mailroom. It’ll take some time to acclimate yourself, but Paris and I both know you’ll do well,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” said Alli. “It means a lot, knowing you’re backing me.”

“Always.” Turning back to the door, Mya blew her red chin-length hair away from her face. The balloons she held bobbed around, magnetizing her hair. “That girl’s too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of herself. You have the key, right? Should we go in?”

Alli nodded and pulled a key from her pocket. Bending toward the door, her shoulder-length black hair swung forward as she pushed it into the lock. She was about to turn the knob when the elevator dinged behind them. The girls turned to see who was approaching.

“Hey!” yelled Paris as she bounced out of the elevator. “What’s up?” She wore her wavy black hair in a high ponytail that cascaded down between her shoulder blades. Her well-toned body glistened with perspiration from the run she’d returnedfrom, causing damp spots to show through on her black athletic top.

“Paris! You were supposed to sleep in,” said Mya. “You’re not getting enough sleep. You’ll end up rundown again.” She shook her head, recalling the many times through high school and college in which Paris tried to coerce her into joining in on her early morning run.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Paris said with a frown. “I’m too keyed up about today’s festival. Alli, open the door.” Alli swung the door open, and they proceeded inside.

“Here,” said Mya, who shoved the balloons toward Paris. “These are for you.”

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