a quiet breath, my parents dive into a highlight reel of their favorite Vannah moments. It’s a soothing balm on my cracked spirit. If only every break was this effortless to repair.
A chirpy ping announces my arrival at Brogen Realty. I stride from the elevator with a solitary mission. The crowded floor is challenging enough to maneuver when my brain refuses to function properly. Vannah will speak to me, even if I need to drag her to a private room. I’m prepared to make a scene if necessary. The roar in my blood is hounding her and refuses to be ignored. This is unfamiliar terrain, but I’m not letting her go without a fight. She can kick and scream as I hoist her over my shoulder. At least that way, a slap to her ass will be called for.
People stare at me as I pass, but they all merge into a blur. I turn the corner leading to Vannah’s sorry excuse for a workstation. My steps falter as I approach. Her desk is completely empty and she’s nowhere in sight. There’s a blonde at the neighboring cube with her baby blues glued to the general vicinity of my dick.
I grind my molars while reining in the frenzy that’s chasing me. “Where’s Savannah?”
The woman twirls a golden curl around her finger. “Vannah doesn’t work here anymore. I’ll be taking care of your needs from now on.”
“The fuck you will.” My glare silences her indignant huffing.
With fire licking my heels, I stomp toward Vince’s office at a fast clip. That chick resumes her complaining behind me, but the pitchy whines fade into static. I keep my narrow gaze locked on the damn door. The chaos simmering in my veins is likely to cause an explosion if I don’t find a proper outlet. Without knocking, I barge in and survey the scene. Two people are sitting in front of Vince, all eyes on me.
I point at the hallway. “Get out.”
They scramble to follow my order. I don’t blame them. There’s probably steam spewing from my ears.
Vince stands from his chair. “Mr. Winters—”
“Where’s Savannah?” My shoes pound across the carpet as I cross the wide space.
He tosses his arms up. “She quit.”
“When? I was just here yesterday.” This joker better not be responsible, or we’ll have bigger problems.
“She left shortly after you did,” he informs me.
“You let her go?” If this has anything to do with our altercation in the conference room, my task might be far larger than I anticipated.
Vince grips the back of his neck. “She didn’t give me much choice. I hope this doesn’t impact your account with us.”
I grunt at the whimpering audacity in his tone. “You bet your ass it does. This changes everything. Savannah is the only reason I stuck around.”
His face puckers. “I’m aware you formed a personal relationship with Ms. Simons—”
“I highly doubt you want to finish that statement.” I watch him choke on a gulp. Keeping a lid on my temper is becoming more difficult the longer I’m away from her. Vince’s sniveling excuses only stoke that irritation. The burn in my chest blazes hotter. “Is that why she left?”
He nods. “She was no longer eligible for the promotion.”
I shake my head while backpedaling to the exit. “That was a really stupid decision.”
“What about your contracts?” His bellow follows me into the common area.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” I call over my shoulder.
After a quick Google search, I discover that Vannah’s condo isn’t a far drive. Her home address is splashed all over the internet. She should protect her identity better. We’ll need to chat about that, after everything else.
She probably chose the Uptown location to be near her job, which is no longer a selling point based on the conversation I just left. The implications of her unemployment begin slamming into me. There’s no guessing where her next steps will lead. She might not have any, if the choice to quit was as impulsive as Vince made it seem. I walk faster with those unknowns spurring me on.
With a flick of my wrist, I unlock the car and slide behind the wheel. Navigating city streets is nothing new for me. The traffic in downtown Minneapolis is nonexistent compared to Chicago, allowing me to take advantage of the Aston Martin’s speed and agility. A nine-minute commute is just enough to create a plan without extra lag to stew over.
The robot woman from my dash barks at me to turn left into a paved lot