Page 44 of Wild Promise

One more deep breath filled my lungs as I pushed the corners of my unwilling mouth into a stiff smile. “Yes, but I’ve run into a bit of car trouble, and it looks like I’ll be late.”

“Geez, that does sound like a difficult situation.” Her tone was sugar sweet, and I disliked her just a tiny bit more because of it. “But do you really think you can afford to be late? Today of all days?”

It took a moment for her meaning to register.

Carriage rides, snickerdoodles, and everything Zane best-distraction-ever Alexander had dominated my thoughts all morning. I’d completely forgotten this was one of the most important days of my career.

This was the day I was scheduled to present the details of my final plan for the Noma event, including the Winter Festival Dance, to my bosses. They’d give their seal of approval, and I’d move on to the next step of my career. It was a formality, really—my proposal was already approved by the client, and Lydia had checked in with me every step of the way—but it was my chance to make a good impression and set myself on the fast track to promotion.

I wanted to wow them. But first, I needed to get there.

“I won’t be that late,” I told Becky, silently panicking over what to do.

I could call a cab, but even with the short distance from town to the resort, I couldn’t afford it. Payday was still four days away, and I was already flat broke. I could try calling Avery, but she’d probably still be sleeping, and with the crazy hours my best friend worked, I’d hate to wake her. But I’d have to pick one of those options because they were the only ones I had.

“It sounds like you have your hands full to me,” Becky said with a little more bite to her tone. “But if it’s too much for you to handle, I can take over the presentation for you. We’ll call it a favor. What else are coworker friends for?”

Friends? I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “Call it whatever you want, you’re not stealing my presentation. I have plenty of time to make it there before the meeting starts, so please, do not do me any favors.”

She made a noise of offended protest, but I was done with her fake courtesies and every other fake thing about her.

“I’ll be there, Becky,” I growled. “I can handle a hell of a lot more than you think.”

With nothing left to say to her and no more time to waste, I hung up.

My hands were shaking. Not from panic this time—from anger. Hot, righteous, long-overdue anger. I’d spent months tiptoeing around that woman, swallowing her snide comments and underhanded jabs, and for what? She wanted to take credit for my work. She wanted my promotion. And she’d take both if she could.

No way in hell would I let her.

I popped the hood of my car, deciding to take a quick peek, hoping the problem was something simple. But after a few minutes of inept poking, I knew even if the issue was the most obvious thing on the planet, I still wouldn’t have the first flipping clue. Hell, I barely knew how to check the oil.

It was hopeless.

I wiped my hands on my coat. The car would need a professional, and by the time it was fixed, I’d need to find a second job to pay the bill.

What was I going to do?

“Need a lift?”

I spun around. Zane’s truck was parked across the street, and he was already jogging toward me, his breath fogging in the cold air. The sight of him—broad shoulders, easy grin, that effortless confidence—sent a rush of tingles straight to my most sensitive spots.

“What’s going on?” His brow furrowed as he looked from me to the open hood.

“I have no idea.” I waved toward my broken-down car, but also meaning his magical appearance. Because really…what were the odds?

He leaned over the exposed engine, taking a cursory glance. “Yeah, me neither. Cars aren’t really my thing.”

“I only know how to drive them.” I shrugged, still feeling like I was lost in a dream. A vivid, ridiculous fantasy where the most handsome man I knew had just ridden in to save the day.

“I’ve got a buddy who can look at it for you if you want. He can probably get you in today.”

The bubble popped, bringing me back to the cost of reality.

My list of expenses kept growing. How much room did I even have left on my credit card? Even split into monthly payments, I had no idea if I could afford the repair. But I couldn’t afford not to fix it, either.

“Don’t worry,” Zane said, as if he could see exactly where my mind had gone. “It won’t cost you a dime to have him take a look. He’s honest and won’t rip you off.”

“Zane?”