Page 7 of Mr. Winter
“Great. It’s going to be great. Speaking of which, I need to speak to Espen.”
“Um.” His hesitation is telling. This guy really must be a handful. “He usually doesn’t answer the phone. Do you want me to give him a message?”
“Please, Edward, can you check just in case?”
“Sure, Ms. Voss. I’ll try.” I twirl my finger around the office phone cord as I wait.
I was just about to assume that he isn’t going to pick up when I hear the phone click.
“Yeah?” His grumble makes me sit up straight, and I blink rapidly.
One word has my skin prickling with awareness. Goosebumps. I rub the back of my neck because I’m momentarily stunned.
“Um..Mr. Espen Winters?” I promptly roll my eyes. Why did I just say his whole name like a dumbass?
“What?”
His rudeness knocks me out of my stupor, and I jump back into business. “I’m Arden Voss from the Mayor’s office and am in charge of the holiday festivities. We have the tree lighting ceremony Friday, and Mr. Winters was usually the master of ceremony. As his heir—”
“No.”
After one succinct and rather cold response, I hear the phone click once and he hangs up. Baffled, I stare at my receiver for a second before hanging up.
What a fucking asshole.
Standing, I pace on the fuzzy rug I have in my office as I talk myself down from doing something drastic. I can’t win him over if I cuss him out or teach him about my pop up game. No. I need to think like the public relations officer of the mayor's office.
“A gift basket,” I murmur to myself. “I’ll send Scrooge Grinch a holiday-themed gift basket. Three days isn’t enough time to fight with him.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and smoke an imaginary cigarette, because I wouldn’t smoke a real one, then make a decision. I’ll try my best to get him to the tree lighting but will have a plan b. The ceremony is one thing, but he will be at that auction even if I have to drag him out of that mansion myself.
* * *
I washappy to get some of the work out of the way in time to catch up with my female bestie, Kimberly St. Andrews. She and Deacon have had a tumultuous past, but I was ecstatic when she enlisted our help to plan their surprise wedding as her gift to him. James, her fake fiance has real feelings for her, but that’s not my business. If I can assist in getting her to Deacon, then James will have to deal with his personal problem.
Right, now we’re dining at Viens Manger, and feasting on steak, or at least we were until bitch ass Annabelle wanders her dumbass over and addresses Deacon like the rest of us aren’t sitting there.
No, bitch. He doesn’t want to go to your sister's party.
Mack and I watch like it’s a tense tennis match as Annabelle, Kimberly, and Deacon square off. I get it though. We know why Kimberly is here, but Deacon doesn’t. I’d be pissed if my ex was speaking for me while his fiance sat idly by. It’d be weird as fuck. I’m not surprised that Deacon calls my girl out once Annabelle leaves.
Mack covers his face and tries not to laugh when James gives Deacon owl eyes after Deacon decides to tell him he’s Kim’s ex. Now it’s beyond awkward. I take a sip of Mack’s whiskey, and he signals for another one.
We drink in silence as Deacon throws money on the table and storms off and Kim follows shortly after. James tries to act unaffected like he’s just a friend, but he gives in and chases after Kim. Looking at each other, we chuckle and clink our glasses together.
“Should we order dessert since Deacon’s paying the bill?” he drawls after his sip.
“Not tonight, just more drinks. We’re gonna need them.”
“Are you going to start the tab this time?”
“Nope, Mr. Fairhope. Y’all are the ones with the deep pockets.”
He laughs and leans in my space. “And you’re the one who’s supposed to be rich from a long history of ridin’ Fairhope men’s dicks. When are you putting out?”
Mack and Deacon are the few who can bring up my family’s so-called scandalous past. That is one of the main reasons Myron and I broke up. His stupid ass had one more time to suggest I had something going on with Mack. We’ve been close since childhood and if he thought he could waltz into our country and tell me who the hell to talk to, he had another thing coming. After a year and eight months, I had enough. Unfortunately, he wasn’t man enough to leave well enough alone. Instead of accepting my decision for what it was—no one controls Arden Elisabeth Voss—he tried to cheapen my relationship with Mack. The asshole went out of his way to tell anyone who’d listen that I was cheating on him with Mack, thus fanning the flames of the Voss and Fairhope connection. Since then, I’ve been more sensitive about how we’re perceived because everything we do is under scrutiny, although we haven’t changed our behavior toward each other in years.
Picking the conversation back up, I scoff at his suggestion. “I ‘put out.’”
