Eye of the Sh*t Storm by Jackson Ford (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

Africa seems to be struggling to take this all in. “What about Annie?”

“If she recovers, Ms Cruz can join you. She will be subject to the same restrictions as Ms Frost, in terms of monitoring and communications. I will be sending additional staff in due course to implement that, and assist you in your duties.”

“If she recovers?” Reggie stares at Tanner. “That is a member of your staff. She put herself directly in harm’s way—”

“Enough.” Tanner’s voice is barely a whisper. “She is as much to blame for this as Ms Frost. But do not think that I am leaving her to fend for herself. She is receiving the finest medical care possible, but my understanding is that her injuries are severe. We have to plan for what happens if she does not survive.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“It doesn’t matter whether it bothers me or not. It is simply the situation we find ourselves in.”

Reggie has to fight to keep her face neutral. You couldn’t argue with Moira Tanner on things like this. It would be like trying to drill a hole in a stone wall by giving it an evil look.

“Any questions?” Tanner asks.

Plenty, Reggie thinks. But Moira wouldn’t be able to answer a single one of them.

“I…” Africa swallows. “Yes. I have some. But I would like to think about them, if that is all right.”

“Very well. I will be in touch tomorrow.”

Her gaze lingers on Reggie, as if she’s about to say something else. Then she looks away, and kills the feed.

A silence falls over the office. Reggie can’t believe how calm she feels. And the relief – the guilty, delightful relief.

“Reggie,” Africa says slowly. “I never wanted—”

“It’s OK,” she says, privately amazed she can still speak.

“This is not right. You are the boss.”

“Not any more. You listen here, honey. You’ve got a lot of work to do, and not nearly enough time or resources to do it. The only way you keep this ship floating is if you focus on what you’re good at. Don’t—”

The coughing comes out of nowhere, her diaphragm going taut as a snare drum.

“I will get water.” Africa is seven feet tall, so big that he almost fills the tiny office. But at this moment it’s as if he’s shrunk to half his size.

“I’m all…” Reggie has to fight to get the coughing under control. “I’m… hrrrrm… fine.”

“Reggie…”

“No, just listen. Don’t do what I did – don’t spread yourself too thin. You’ve got connections the rest of us could only dream of – hell, even Annie doesn’t know some of the people you do. Go talk to them. Find out where that woman came from, get some solid intel.” She forces herself to smile. “Prove you’re as good as Moira thinks you are.”

After a long moment – a very long moment – he nods. “Ya. OK.”

“You’ll be fine,” Reggie says, placing a hand on his. Truth be told, she has no idea if that’s true. But she can be one hell of an actress when she puts her mind to—

Actress. In all of the chaos, she’d almost forgotten about the audition. She has to force herself not to start laughing. After all that agonising over it…

“What will you do?” Africa says quietly.

Reggie finds her voice. “I’d like to be alone for a while.” The very slightest tremor in her voice – she clamps down on it hard. “Go home, go see Jeannette, get some food. I am going to need a little help later, with getting into bed and such. Annie normally does that for me, but… well.”

He nods. “Of course, yes. If you are sure, then I will come back. Of course I will help.”

“Great. You can start by fixing me a cup of tea.”

He does. And still, he leaves reluctantly, asking again if she’s all right, if she’d prefer him to stay. Reggie practically has to yell at him to get him out. But eventually, he leaves, and Reggie is alone.

For a long time, she simply sits there, staring at nothing. Quietly amazed at just how good she feels. She’s no longer guilty about the relief – she lets it overtake her, wallowing in it, the sheer bliss of knowing that no matter what happens, she won’t have to deal with any of the shitty details. No more invoices. No more ordering equipment and uniforms. No more trying to find the right brand of coffee.

Moira was right about one thing: Annie is getting the very best possible care. The ICU at Cedars-Sinai is one of the best in the country – the hospital took a hit after the quake, but the departments that are still running know their stuff. There’s not a lot that she can do for Annie that the doctors aren’t doing already.

Annie has to recover. She has to. No, she will.

God, Reggie is going to miss her. She’s going to miss all of them. She won’t miss the drudgery of running China Shop… but she will miss having Annie looking after her, the quiet conversations they’d have. She’ll miss Teagan – even though her life will probably be a lot less stressful without her. She’ll even miss Africa. She doesn’t bear him any ill will, just hopes to God he knows what he’s getting into. Moira Tanner isn’t the devil, but dealing with her does have some similarities.

She’s surprised to find she isn’t bitter. She’s not sure she would have done anything differently.

The rest of her life stretches before her.

She reaches for her trackball, pauses, half-wanting to postpone it. Wait until tomorrow, when she’s mentally ready for—

Screw it. At the very least, she can read the script the agent said she was going to send over. She can start there.

But there’s nothing from the agent on her personal email. She refreshes, glancing at her connection indicator, even though she knows the internet is working fine.

Ah well. Agents are busy. Chances are that Darcy Lorenzo – that was her name, wasn’t it? – simply