Page 112 of By His Vow
“I didn’t book it.”
“Oh…umm…”
As she hesitates, my cell buzzes with an incoming message.
Unknown: Good morning, Tatum Callahan. This is a reminder about your personal stylist appointment tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Your stylist will meet you at the address provided on your booking.
Anger begins to bubble up within me.
“Tate, are you still there?” Gabby asks.
“Uh, yeah,” I mutter.
“I’m sorry. I was just doing my job, you know?”
“Yeah,” I muse. I might not have heard her confession, but I know exactly who is behind this. I didn’t need the surname in the booking confirmation to verify it. “I get it. Could you do me a favor?” I ask, aware that I might be about to ask too much.
“Sure. What is it?”
“If he ever does anything like that again, call me before you do anything about it.”
Again, she hesitates. I get it. Kingston Callahan isn’t the kind of man you defy lightly. “Y-yeah, sure.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I should let you go,” I say, preparing to hang up.
As I pull the handset from my ear, Gabby calls my name.
“Yeah?”
“Is everything okay? Kingston was…” Trust her to see beneath the surface. I guess that’s one of the reasons she’s so good at her job.
“Yeah, Gabs, everything is fine. I’ve got it under control.”
“Okay, good. If you need anything, you know where I am.”
“Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too,” she says before the line cuts.
I’m about to find Kingston’s contact and rip him a new one down the line for trying to control my life yet again when another appointment confirmation comes through. This time for hair and makeup.
“Oh, for the love of God,” I mutter, finally locating him and pressing call.
It rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer.
“Fuck,” I bark, pushing from my chair and storming out of my office.
I’ve no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing, but I need to move. I can’t sit in there fuming at that infuriating man.
I knew I started a war by ordering that coffee machine yesterday, but fuck it. I’m more than ready to fight.
Kingston: Can’t talk. In a meeting with K and M.
I stare at his message and then look up at the ceiling.
Could he be…
Without thinking it through, I storm toward the elevators and step inside the second one stops.