from trying to fight down another wave of nausea. “Something I ate.” I heard a chuckle from around the table and I knew without looking it came from Christopher. “I’ll be fine.”
Lydia nodded. If working with me for the last couple of years had taught her anything, it was that I knew how to come through in a clutch. “Okay, well. You all have your battle plans. Go forward and kick much ass.” It was how she ended every meeting.
As everyone disbanded, I heard Christopher’s voice from behind. “Looking a little green behind the gills there, McPhee. Nerves getting to you?”
I knew he was trying to get into my head. “I don’t get nervous. You must be thinking of you.”
He chuckled as I swung to face him. “Hey, joke if you want but I nearly shit my pants. This isn’t some regular person. This is royalty. They give you all the rules in the car on the way over there. Get just one thing wrong and the whole interview is over. I mean, I’m looking out for you here.”
“Bullshit,” I scoffed. “You’re looking out for you. As always.”
He shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s stressful. I can see how it might make you a little nervous.”
“I told you. I don’t get nervous.” With that dramatic exit line, I twirled on my heel and headed out of the conference room to get back to my desk.
Chapter Two
As it happened, the twirl was too much. I had to pivot and make a quick beeline to the lady’s room instead. I was on my knees in the stall when I heard, “You okay?”
Great, I thought with a roll of my eyes. It was Monica. “Yep. Just some bad sushi.”
“That sucks,” she stated as she lingered outside the stall. “And what a time to get it, huh?”
Turns out my sister Fern wasn’t the only one with a penchant for stating the obvious. I waited for Monica to leave, but she outlasted me standing there outside the stall. It was ticking ever closer to nine-thirty so I had to clean up as best as possible and exit the stall with my head as high as could possibly be held after being on both knees in a public bathroom.
“Wow, you look wrecked,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said before brushing my teeth for the fifth time that morning.
“You know, friend to friend, you might want to reschedule. It’s not going to get any easier the closer you get to Fifty Oaks.”
I glared at her. “Is that so?”
She nodded. “It’s intimidating. It’s a legit castle. I mean, newly built but… an actual Duke lives there. God, I could barely form words when he finally made his appearance.” I didn’t say anything, so she forged on. “They make you wait for it. They put you in one of the receiving rooms where you’re surrounded by all this royal stuff, paintings and busts… suits of armor. For a minute, I thought he might even be in it. You know how weird he can be.”
I shrugged. When you’re named Peaches, weirdos don’t bother you much. “If he’s wearing a suit of armor, he might be better protected if I barf on him. Always look on the bright side, Monica.” I finished washing my hands.
“It’s not just that. He’s… different. Like the energy changes when he enters the room. He may have given up on royalty, but he carries himself like a king. I practically bowed!” she giggled.
I thought of her well-known reputation for using her sexuality to get the story. “I’m sure,” I murmured.
“And he is gorgeous,” she continued, following me out of the bathroom. “That auburn hair. Those piercing green eyes. That beard. He looks like he just stepped out of a romance novel.” We reached my cubicle, where I sat immediately to turn the fan on me so I could fight off yet another wave of nausea. This time I figured it had less to do with bad sushi and more to do with a chatty coworker chewing my ear off. “I’m just saying. You might want to be at your best to meet him.”
She was the second person to tell me “I’m just saying,” that morning. And both of whom had a lot to gain if I wimped out of this interview.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I smiled sweetly.
“Well, good luck,” she said before twirling on one of her impossibly high heels to head back towards her own cubicle.
I sighed in relief before booting up my computer. Normally I would