Page 69 of Santa's Baby
“Urgh.” I rub my sore head. “Look, I’m sorry, Josh. Seriously, I’m sorry, alright? I should have let you know, but please, next time, don’t freak out and definitely DON’T get onto Orla! Why bring the Agency into this?!”
I hear him scoff.
“How about because they are the ones who know what the fuck you’re scheduled in for? It was either them or the POLICE!”
Remorse and fear are a nasty combination. If the situation was reversed and I’d been the one freaking out about Josh, I’d have sure as fuck have gone to Orla, and everyone else in the damn place I could get hold of, including the police, but at the same time, my pulse is racing… because if Orla looks too deeply…
“Look, I’m sorry, babe,” I tell Josh. “Forgive me, hey? I won’t do it again.”
“We ALWAYS send D&S messages. ALWAYS. That’s what we promised each other.”
“Yeah, and I screwed up. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” I take a breath. “But I have to go. I’m at another proposal, and this isn’t great timing.”
“Isn’t great timing? Are you for fucking real? You’re the one whose timing’s gone all to shi–”
“Yeah, sorry. I know. Listen, I had an urgent proposal, literally started the second I stepped out of the glory wall. It was a really good deal. I said yes, the proposal started right there and then, and…” Fuck, I’m rambling.
“What proposal?” he asks. “What kind of good deal?”
His questions push a button they never usually push. My voice is a hiss of a whisper when I answer him.
“That’s fucking classified. Non-disclosure!”
“Seems to me that everything is becoming non-disclosure with you at the moment. We need to talk about what the fuck’s going on.”
I want to bang my head against the wall. It won’t just be about Caroline’s baby and Christmas now, I’ll get a proper grilling on all levels, because he’s right. I have been hiding things.
“Yeah, ok. We’ll talk. I’ll let you know when my calendar is clear, alright?”
“Alright. Fine. Send me a D&S when you’re done.”
I hate how hurt he sounds. He hangs up before I can even say goodbye.
Maybe I’d call him back if my heart wasn’t thumping like a bastard on other matters.
Orla.
She might be digging into my bookings right now.
I call up the Agency app and log into my account, calling her name up in the chat window.
Hey, sorry, Josh was freaking out. It’s all cool, just a misunderstanding. I took a client on at short notice, no biggie. It’s in the calendar.
I see the typing icon and my gut lurches.
Hi, Tiff. Good timing. I was just looking into your account. Is everything alright? Are you ill or something?
Ill? Fuck yes, I am. My jowls just went and fucking tightened and I’m gonna puke. My fingers are trembling as I type…
Yeah, I’m fine thanks, why?
I swallow the bile as the typing icon shows up again.
The postponements on your account. There are quite a lot of them.
The postponements on my account… what the…
No way.