Crave (His Second Chance with Heiress Bryn Christmas Duet #1) - Z.L. Arkadie Page 0,7

stays, I tipped the bellhop, lugged myself to the bedroom, and plopped down on the bed. The moment I’d been anticipating had finally come. I took my iPad out of my briefcase, called up Jamison’s message, and replied: Thanks for securing my cell phone. Could you send it to me by mail, please?

I added the name and address of the resort. Then I sat still, waiting for his response. Minutes ticked by, and I became sleepier. Jamison was either away from his phone or asleep. As I remembered, he was the sort of person who went to bed early and rose early. Figuring I should have his response by morning, I followed his lead—I set my alarm and went directly to bed.

Chapter Three

Bryn Christmas

I rose before the alarm sounded. I’d gotten a solid seven hours of sleep, and other than the fact that I was starving, I felt ready to tackle my day. I was extra thrilled about the possibility of seeing Jamison’s response to my message. It was stupid and reckless of me to be so excited to hear from him, but regardless, I was. Wrapped in a towel, I trotted out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to check my iPad. Disappointed, I sighed. He still hadn’t replied. I checked again after my shower—nothing. I couldn’t pout, though—time was breathing down my neck.

I dressed for comfort and warmth, putting on a loose-fitting pair of jeans and a soft light-blue cotton T-shirt under a thick cable-knit sweater that I could easily take off, since walking through the home, along with the reaching and squatting my work demanded, tended to make me warm. I gave myself a final once-over in the bathroom mirror, and I approved of myself for being comfortable and quite stylish in the West Coast manner that I’d adopted when I’d moved to LA after my father died.

I trotted into the bedroom to check and see if Jamison had finally responded. Still nothing. I pursed my lips. I needed my phone because it was my lifeline to my family and work. I decided to give Jamison until the end of the day to respond before driving into town to shut off service on my cell phone and buy a new one.

As I was considering this plan, I was surprised to hear a doorbell ring. I hadn’t realized the suite came equipped with one. The sound was akin to a meal bell. Knowing exactly who the caller was, I rushed to the foyer. I’d scheduled a seven thirty breakfast delivery. When I opened the door, the aroma of an egg white, spinach, feta, and roasted roma tomato omelet with home-style basil, citrus sweet potatoes, and a hot pot of Columbian coffee made my stomach growl.

It felt as if time was speeding up faster than I could manage it. I ate while racing around the room, making sure I’d brought the correct flash drives—sorted according to design styles—which contained catalogs of vendors for lighting, furniture, and appliance vendors that worked with MIND’s design app. Alana and Alex, my assistant and craftsman, were flying in from New York and bringing the trunk loaded with textiles, fabrics, woods, metals, cements, porcelain, and other tangible samples. By the time I did another time check, I had only ten minutes to be at Eden Newell’s house. I sent her a quick message to let her know that I’d misplaced my cell phone and that I was on my way.

Her response came immediately: Take your time. Would you like breakfast?

If only Jamison had replied that quickly. I answered: I’ve already eaten. Thanks for offering. I promise we’ll hit the ground running as soon as I get there.

She texted back: Can’t wait.

With the bag full of modules on one shoulder, my purse and computer case hanging from the other, a briefcase in one hand, and keys in the other, I paused to make sure I hadn’t left anything else. Satisfied that I hadn’t, I hurried out into the hallway and toward the elevator. When I reached the porte cochere, I was further delayed because I’d forgotten to call downstairs and let the valet know I was leaving.

When I was finally on the road, I was flustered and could have used another cup of coffee. Also, I rarely drove to work in the morning without answering a barrage of phone calls. I was anxious about not having my cell phone, being late for the first day on the job, and Jamison’s silence. To calm my