glides out of the back of the car and wrinkles her nose in disdain at my attire but says nothing. Her look conveys her thoughts perfectly.
I’m a mess.
But I don’t care what she thinks anymore.
“Was your text a joke?”
She seems to think everything I do is a joke. I temporarily set aside my heartbreak and let the anger come back in full force.
“No.” I pop the trunk of my car and grab my bag and purse.
“You didn’t get me that bed and breakfast. I want it.”
I slam the trunk. “You can’t have it.”
I may be furious with the Bradfords. They might have handled the situation totally wrong. But I won't betray them. I don’t want someone like Aurora coming to Winter Valley and tainting Perry’s goodness.
“I paid you to complete the job.” She straightens her black suit jacket.
“You paid me a salary to do many jobs, including being your punching bag. I won’t do it anymore.” I hike my purse on my shoulder. “Besides, how many times have you threatened to fire me? Find someone else to torment.”
Good luck, lady. Most people would never tolerate you as long as I did.
“I expect that contract on my desk next week,” she calls as I climb the stairs.
“You won’t get it.” I reach my door, and there sits my lost luggage. I roll my eyes and dig through my purse for my keys.
Aurora stands at the bottom of the steps, staring up at me. “You’ve had a vacation. You’ll be in the office early in the morning.”
My hand freezes when it wraps around the snow globe keychain. Reminders of Colin and Perry are everywhere. Will they ever hurt less?
“What part of ‘I quit’ don’t you understand?”
My eyes sting when I catch sight of the heart Perry drew on the base of the snow globe. I miss her smile and that sweet laughter. I miss her energy. I just miss her.
“You can’t quit. I refuse to allow it.”
“I’ll call Karen to confirm the deposit of my final paycheck.” I unlock my door and step across the threshold. It’s dark and as lonely as I suspected.
“The contract. Next week!” Aurora yells.
I slam the door. She’s insane. I wouldn’t wish her on anyone. Not even the Bradfords. God help them if she ever finds out they own the B&B.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Colin
It’s been a hot minute since the last time I visited Los Angeles. My eyes burn from the hazy air. The drive from the airport to Audrey’s office was longer than I expected. I should take this as a sign and go back home.
But I have to keep going and finish what I started this morning for one important reason. Taking a deep breath, I step into the offices of Capell-Stanley Hotels.
The logo is engraved in gold on the marble floor. The counter of the reception desk matches the flooring. Several frames contain black and white pictures of what I assume are the buildings they own.
“Welcome to Capell-Stanley Hotels,” the receptionist greets me. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Audrey Reed,” I answer, pulling out my identification.
She flinches. “Is she expecting you?”
“I—no. It’s a last-minute appointment.”
She looks at my ID and makes a call. She talks so low I can’t make out the words. When she hangs up, her smile becomes stiff.
“Ms. Reed is no longer employed here.”
My entire being stills at the words. I take a deep breath, shifting my hand to the back of my neck.
“She got fired anyway,” I mumble under my breath, and I feel as if I’ve failed one more time. She lost her job because of me.
You should’ve called her.
How could I surprise her if I’d called?
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath.
I’m not giving up. We’re going to sit down and talk. If Audrey wants me to leave after we say what needs to be sorted out, I’ll be crushed. However, I’ll leave.
“Do you have a way for me to reach her?” Like a home address.
Her smile is on point. “Sorry, sir. We can’t give out personal information for current or former employees.”
I pull out my phone and call Morgan. “Can you text me her address, please?”
“I shouldn’t. It’s confidential.” Is he for real right now? Isn’t he the one who wanted me to come after her?
“You’re not her lawyer, her therapist, nor her doctor,” I claim. “You didn’t sign any document assuring her information would be kept private. Just text me the damn address.” I really don’t want to ask Audrey’s mother.