Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,84
looking, thinking it’s Paige.
But Magnus Heron flashes across the screen.
God, I’m so tempted to ignore it.
But he did get an odd call before he left, didn’t he? Also, I’ve never heard him use the word promise until right before he bolted out the door.
What if he has a real excuse?
I want to smack myself in the cheek, wondering why I’m lending him the benefit of the doubt.
I take the call anyway. “What?”
“I—I’ve sent Armstrong to pick you up—” His voice is gravelly, strained, this low scraping like he’s been beaten and dragged raw.
I’ve never heard him like this.
I sit up straight. “Are you okay?”
He sighs into the phone. “I’m fine. But I need you, Brina. Right now. It can’t wait.”
“For what?” I’d assume he just wants to finish the hookup, if only his voice didn’t sound so...odd.
“Just be ready as soon as Armstrong gets there, and I’ll see you soon.”
“Maybe you won’t,” I say.
“What?”
“I never said I’d be there. After what you did—”
“Brina, goddammit, this is serious,” Magnus growls. “We need to talk.”
My heart flutters. I haven’t reverted back to Sabrina or Miss Bristol again.
Then my brain tells my heart to shut up because this guy has left me hanging twice. But I also can’t parse this sudden strange emergency that’s gotten him so keyed up.
“Fine, let me get my coat. I’ll wait outside, so I can hop out and head over as soon as he pulls—”
“Don’t. It’s snowing, and it’s dark. I can’t handle more catastrophes tonight. Stay inside in the warmth of your building with your door locked until he calls.”
What the?
This sounds serious.
“Mag, what happened?” I ask, blanking on even a guess.
“Just get here when you can.” He hangs up.
For a second, I sit there staring at the screen, this dark pit deepening in my stomach.
One thing’s for sure: I’m not going out in the snow in this stupid dress again, and if he wants to summon me at any hour he pleases, he can deal with bad fashion choices. So I throw on sweats and put my hair up in a messy bun.
I look nothing like the girl he left on the couch, and I don’t give a damn.
Maybe he’ll find me repulsive and finally stay the hell away from me. I’m probably not strong enough to do the same with him.
Appearances aside, he left me with one fierce memory I can’t push away.
The fire coursing through my body when his mouth was on my nipple and his hand was under my dress lingers like a burn.
With every single breath I take, I can still taste Magnus Heron’s lips.
I open the back door of the town car and climb in.
“Any news, Armstrong? Is this some kind of prank?”
“I don’t think so. He was pretty frantic when he called,” Armstrong says slowly, his eyes gazing back at me in the rearview mirror.
“Frantic? Since when does Mag get frantic?”
“I don’t know, but he was as close as he ever gets,” he says, this tightness in his normally warm voice.
Okay, now I’m doubly worried.
“What the hell happened?” I whisper.
If Snarlypants wants to be forgiven for skipping out, it better be good.
“I don’t know, exactly. Bossman just said ‘I have a personal emergency and need my assistant ASAP.’ I told him I’d pick you up,” he says.
“Personal emergency?” I echo.
“He wouldn’t say more,” Armstrong says with a shrug. “Your guess is just as good as mine.”
“Jesus. I mean, you’re sure he’s not pranking us both?”
Armstrong shakes his head.
“Nah. He’s not the kind to punk. Not like this.”
“What have other personal emergencies entailed?” I ask.
“He’s never had one till now. The boss must really trust you, Brina,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t think he’d call anybody else for an emergency.”
I let that sink in, chilled to the bone, even in the toasty car.
“We’ll see, I guess,” I say.
“Are you two fighting?” Armstrong asks.
Crap. Does he know something?
“Um, no,” I say. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Mag just thinks he owns the world, and we’re all his pawns. I’m sure he thinks he’s having an emergency, but it’s probably something ridiculous like he can’t find his TV remote or something.”
Don’t be so harsh, Brina, I tell myself. He sounded desperate on the phone. He could be hurt.
But I have a new question for Armstrong.
“If you knew this was some kind of sick joke, you’d tell me, right?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be involved with a prank between two folks I have to work with,” he says with a smile. “I’ll tell you