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Drip…drip…drip.
I hated that sound. Even now the memory of it wouldn’t fade from my consciousness. It mocked me. I’d heard a faint drip yesterday morning just before I left to see my grandmother and had ignored it. Now I wish I could reverse time and realize the drip was more problematic than I thought. If my grandmother were here, she’d say the constant drip, AKA the flooding of my house, was a sign of good things to come. To me, it was the steady drip of money leaving my bank account.
This was one of those times when I wanted to let a curse word out with a bellow, but my grandmother’s influence kicked in. I took a deep breath and tried to shake off my frustration. Things had to get better, right? I forced my shoulders down from their permanent place by my ears as I dialed the number of another plumber I’d found online.
The line picked up.
“Hello, I was hoping—” I began.
“We’re sorry, but we cannot answer at this time. Please leave a message at the beep, and we’ll return your call.”
A low growl burst from my lips as I gazed at my small, previously cozy living room that was now a soggy mess. My eyes locked on the beautiful light blue couch and matching armchair, the two things I splurged on, and my shoulders dropped even further. They likely needed to be tossed. I ran my hand along the edge of the live edge wood coffee table that had been my grandmother’s. I’d wiped it down the best I could, but wasn’t sure it had been enough. This was the one thing I couldn’t replace.
The open ceiling taunted me. The stained plaster hung in pieces. I wanted to sit down and cry just like I had the night before. A pipe had burst in the bathroom above this room before I got home after meeting with Jess. The afternoon I planned to spend relaxing and wrapping my Christmas presents with “The Holiday” playing in the background had evaporated. Tears pricked at my eyes for the millionth time as I took in the horror show my living room had now become.
I had been so proud to buy this home. It was the embodiment of the safety and security I didn’t have in my younger years and my dream to give my grandmother something she’d always wanted. A house with a garden to live out her remaining years.
A loud beep echoed around me. I jumped, my heart rate doubling. The intrusive sound of my alarm continued to emerge from the back pocket of my worn jeans. I’d already reset it twice. Each time my finger tapped that button, my stomach churned, knowing I’d be even later to work. I was never late to work, and my natural anxiety kicked into high gear.
Every day, I arrived at least thirty minutes before Jareth. I printed his calendar and the correspondence requiring his attention or response. I also went through the reports that had come in from the managers of the various businesses he owned and flagged the ones he needed to address in order of priority and importance.
It was a source of stubbornness that I provided it to him on paper in addition to the electronic copy I emailed. My love of paper and his desire to bring me into the latest century had become a standing joke between us. It’s not that I didn’t use technology. I had to with my job as his Personal Assistant, but paper was what I was most comfortable with and I loved that it got a rise out of Jareth. A man very few people denied what he wanted.
I instinctively glanced at the brass clock on the wall, permanently stuck at 10:15 a.m. The exact time I was sure the water had begun leaking from the wretched burst pipes. I glared up at them. It was almost three weeks until Christmas. I didn’t have the time to deal with this. Not during my most favorite time of the year.
I’d been calling plumbers all day yesterday, and everyone was either booked or I got their voicemail. For the first time, I was grateful my grandmother no longer lived with me and was at assisted living, so she didn’t need to deal with this mess.
I sighed. A mess I’d still have to come back and deal with later. Homeownership was kicking my butt today. I threw on a pair of sneakers and winced as I caught my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. This was not my typical office attire. I’d never shown up in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers before. I was twenty-six years old and had a baby face, especially without makeup. Put me in casual clothing and I looked eighteen.
My alarm blared, mocking me once again. I grabbed my purse and laptop bag and ran out the door. I finally shut off the annoying sound, tossed my phone into my handbag, and climbed into my old sedan.
Maybe traffic wouldn’t be too bad, and I could zip right to the office. The blessing in all this was that Jareth had ensured he and I had a designated parking space in the parking garage attached to our building. Not that he often used his since he had a personal driver.
The other offices in the building didn’t have their own spaces, which was a bone of contention with the other companies that were housed here. It didn’t matter that they all belonged to Jareth in some way shape or form. He had a hand in various business endeavors from textiles to professional sports teams. Jareth typically got what he wanted in life and business.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” I slammed my hand down on my steering wheel. My eyes narrowed and laser-focused on my parking space. The parking space that housed someone else’s stupid BMW. It happened once before after a doctor’s appointment when I’d come to work in the afternoon. Even though there was a big enough sign with my name across it in plain sight, I thought maybe it was a mistake. I perpetually liked to give people the benefit of the doubt.
My phone buzzed for the twentieth time since I’d gotten in the car. “Siri, pick up call.” The buzzing continued. She was being stubborn today and clearly not listening to me. After I slammed on my brakes when someone decided to blow through a stop sign, my purse went flying. Now, I couldn’t reach my purse that lay in a heap on the passenger side floor, which meant I couldn’t reach my phone. My car was so old that Bluetooth hadn’t yet been installed in this particular model and with the leak in my house there went the new car I’d been saving up for.
For the tenth time, I circled the garage until I found a spot much farther away from the usual entrance I used. With another quick glance at the time I snagged my purse and whatever I could shove back into it, threw the strap to my computer bag over my shoulder, and hurriedly exited my car. If I jogged, I might be able to get there in a few minutes. The sound of my phone buzzing with an incoming call went off in my purse again. I ignored it. I forced my legs into action until I was full on sprinting to the elevator.
I gasped for breath as I ran through the small lobby and shoved open the door leading into the waiting area of our office. I bent forward and pressed a fist against the stitch in my side, waiting for my erratic breathing to slow down.
My eyes fixated on the small four-foot Christmas tree I’d decorated for the office and the presents for our staff underneath. The simple beauty of the twinkling lights calmed me as my breath sawed in and out.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jareth demanded, striding through his private office door.
Regardless of not being able to speak, my eyes worked just fine. They eagerly drank in the gorgeousness coming toward me. The way his gray bespoke suit framed his broad shoulders. And the way it caressed his muscular build made me long to touch him. I wanted to peek beneath his buttoned-up white dress shirt to see the tattoos I’d only caught glimpses of over the years. I’d had no idea tattoos were so sexy until the day we worked late, and he’d rolled up his sleeves inadvertently showing off the ink running down his arms. I’d especially been intrigued by the one of a crown surrounded by flames.
Swoon.
I held up a finger, telling him to wait, not missing the flash of annoyance that flared in his brown eyes. His jaw tightened, causing a muscle there to tick. He needed to be more patient in most things. I clenched my hands into fists so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and smooth my fingertips across his cheek as he drew close. Something inside me desperately wanted to be the one to soothe him. I lowered my gaze, needing the respite to rein in my inappropriate thoughts.
Without warning, his hands cupped my shoulders. “Are you all right? I’ve been calling you.”
The hard, yet concerned tone warmed me up from the inside out. It started in my belly and quickly moved to my chest. Jareth didn’t worry about anyone. Well, except for me, it seemed. Over the years, he’d softened toward me, which only made my unrequited crush on him that much harder to bear.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, unable to stop from leaning into his touch. His spicy scent filled my senses, and I wanted nothing more than to lay my head against his chest for a few minutes. To draw on his strength and not feel so alone.
