Devotion - Billionaire Contemporary Romance Novel (22 page)

“What!?” Tami yelped, like she had just had her foot run over by a bus. 

A few of the girls peered up from their computers. 

Isabel hushed her with a killer glare.

“C’mon, in here—” Tami insisted, bullying Isabel inside of Phillip’s empty office.

“No, we can’t,” Isabel resisted.

But Tami elbowed her past the threshold and slammed the door. “You do realize your master and commander is gone for the day.”

Isabel glared at her. “That’s impossible.” She gazed down at her phone again.

“Let me guess,” Tami said. “He didn’t tell you.”

Isabel shook her head, feeling the blood drawing down from her cheeks.

“Well, I heard it from Lucy,” Tami said, flopping down onto the mid-century sofa and kicking up the red soles of her heels onto its leather armrest. “Phillip called in early this morning.  Something about personal business,
blah, blah, blah
…He’s out the whole day,
blah, blah, blah, blah
…don’t forward any of his calls.”

“See…he
is
stonewalling me. It’s not like Phillip to keep me out of the loop like this unless he’s doing it intentionally.”

“Well, what did he say when he saw the flowers?”

“Nothing.”

“Ugh…” Tami sighed. “So Phillip.”

“I know.” Isabel nodded, aimlessly circling the office.  “But I’m pretty sure he saw the pearl bracelet. Which is almost worse because I think he also saw me yesterday when I attempted to give it back to Eliot.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tami held up her hand, truly pained. “Okay, so maybe you’re right. Maybe Phillip is stonewalling you.”

Isabel dropped into Phillip’s executive chair and held her head.  “That’s the reason why I wasn’t there last night at the dinner with Madame van der Meer.  Phillip thinks I’m betraying him.”

“Well, you
are
sleeping with the enemy.”

“I don’t know… I guess. Maybe.” Isabel folded forward and cradled her body like she was going to be sick. “God, it’s all such a big mess.”

“Hell, yes.  It really is.” Tami gazed at Isabel like she was watching her turning into stone.

“There’s more…” Isabel finally confessed.

“More?  What is this, an E! Hollywood True Story?”

“Eliot wants me to come work for him.  He’s offered me an equity partnership in his new business venture.”

“He did what!?” Tami threw down her heels and jumped to her feet.

Isabel nodded. “He’s offering me equity partnership in his next deal—the same one that’s competing with The Old Main Post Office.”

“Frickin’ hell, Isabel.  And what did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, or at least… I tried to say no by giving back the bracelet and ending everything, but you know Eliot.  No is not in his vocabulary.  So then he sent me flowers with the pearl bracelet—again—and then Phillip came over and saw them, and then I got this mysterious text to meet, so then I went…”

“Wait, just wait…” Tami held up her hand like she could hear no more. “Slow down… no, wait…forget that. I changed my mind, speed up. Speed WAY up. You had sex last night—again?”

Isabel covered her face, filled with shame. “And now I’ve got the gala tonight, and a million things to confirm, and Phillip is gone and not talking to me, and Eliot is coming tonight, and I don’t know what to say to him.”

“You say, hello sexy hot cock, but good-bye.”

Isabel shot Tami a glare. 
Not helpful
.

“Don’t look at me like that, Isabel.  There’s
no
way in hell I’m letting you take a new job as a partner somewhere and leave me alone here to toil as Jett’s office assistant, watching my face and boobs sag with every passing year.  I’ll never forgive you.  Not even while sitting in my new hot pink turbocharged convertible MINI Cooper.  I’ll tell the whole office that you slept your way into that position.”

“Tami!”

“Okay, sorry. That’s terrible.  But I
would
hate you forever.”

“And I would deserve it because I’m such a horrible, disloyal person.”

“Don’t, Isabel.  Don’t go there.  You’re not horrible.  Just horny as hell, and we’ve all been there, so you’re forgiven.  But what are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea.  I have to get through this gala tonight, and then… I’m hoping that everything will just magically fall into place.”

Tami snorted. “Good luck with that, Cinderella.  Just remember not to lose your heel at the ball.  Or your panties.”

There was an abrupt knock at the door.  Both women jumped from their seats and turned towards the visitor.

“Sorry to interrupt…” Giselle’s bright bubblegum pink smile peeked in through the opening. “But I was hoping to meet with Isabel this morning to touch base about the gala tonight.”

“Yes, of course…”

Giselle exhaled with relief and entered the office with her tablet. “Okay, well…first is the flower arrangements.  I’ve talked to Mario about scheduling their arrival for two o’clock, but he also has the caterers coming at the same time for set-up and prep, so I guess I’m wondering if that’s okay, and how are we planning to coordinate the arrival of the band and the staging…”

Isabel watched Giselle launch into her long list of concerns; she couldn’t help but notice her sparkling lip gloss and fresh buttermilk skin, flattered by the morning light.  Giselle always wore high heels and tight skirts to accentuate her perfect figure, and she always let her long blonde hair flow freely over her shoulders.  But it was her earnest attempt to prove herself that was most disarming—the way she stood in the middle of the office and recited her to-do list with such dedication.  Suddenly, Isabel was reminded her of herself—five years ago. 

“And then, there’s the arrival of Madame van der Meer’s collection.  Phillip said it was going to be accompanied by four security guards, so I guess I’m concerned about how everyone is going to be moving in and out of the freight elevator at the same time…”

“You already know about Madame van der Meer?” Isabel interrupted her.

Giselle paused, recognizing the edge of displeasure in her question. “Yes… Phillip told me when he called me this morning.”

“Phillip called you this morning?” Isabel asked.

“Well… yes,” Giselle fumbled like she had committed an unintentional slip. “Phillip called me to talk about the gala, and then he apologized because he said he had a personal emergency and he wouldn’t be able to come to the office and he said he was likely going to be out all day.”

Isabel gazed at Giselle.  The familiar, casual way she said “Phillip” filled Isabel with a sickening envy—she
was
being replaced with a younger, more innocent version of herself.

Tami suddenly jumped in. “Look, Gigi.  You’re doing great.  Major overachiever award here.  First place winner.  So now, let’s let Isabel have a chance to get to her desk, take off her coat, drink some coffee, and settle in before we all vomit out our every concern about the next twenty-four hours.”

Giselle flashed a fluttering smile. “Oh my God, you’re totally right. I am
soooo
sorry.  Of course, of course.  It’s just that…this is my very first gala, and I’m
soooo
excited and I want everything to go perfectly.  I even spent the entire weekend shopping for what I plan to wear. I bought four different outfits because I know we’re supposed to wear something with vintage flair, but I can’t decide on what!”

“I’m planning to wear my grandmother’s knit mothball-ridden cardigan,” Tami quipped.  “That’s vintage.”

“Oh, that’s number forty-four on the list of things to tell you,” Giselle suddenly said to Isabel, scanning her tablet. “Your wardrobe has been arranged. It’s being delivered to your house this afternoon.”

“Arranged? By who?”

“Well, by me…” Giselle replied. “At Phillip’s request.”

Tami snorted through her nose. “That’s seriously ridiculous.  The only thing Jett has ever ‘arranged’ for me to wear is one of those monster-sized foam fingers at the Bulls game.”

Giselle referenced her tablet.  “Phillip also wanted me to let you know that his driver plans to pick you up at eight o’clock—sharp.”

Isabel peered over at Tami; they exchanged silent glances.  It was impossible not to feel unnerved by Phillip’s display of power and control he was asserting over her—even in his absence.

“Thank you, Giselle. But I expect that I’ll talk will him before that.”

“Well, I don’t think so.  He really seemed to be certain that he would be out-of-pocket until tonight.”

“Yes, maybe, Giselle.  But I’ve been Phillip’s assistant for a long time.  And when I need to get ahold of him, I will and can.”

Both Giselle and Tami noted the edge in Isabel’s voice. 

“Of course…I apologize, Miss Alvarez.” Giselle lowered her gaze and shut off her tablet.

Isabel frowned and moved away towards the windows, peering out across the cityscape. 
Was it all really worth it? 
After five long years, was it worth losing her position as Phillip’s most trusted employee for the sake of exploring something that threatened to risk everything between them?

“Giselle, why don’t you go get ready now,” Isabel finally replied as her gaze settled onto one of Phillip’s most favorite Art Deco buildings in the city—the Chicago Board of Trade, crowned by the faceless stone statue of Ceres. “We’ll head over to The Old Main Post Office now to check in on Mario and the status of all the arrangements, and we’ll stay until we’re certain everyone and everything has been coordinated. I want everything to go perfectly as well.”

“Great,” Giselle grinned in relief, bounding towards the door like a puppy dog with a fresh bone. “Can we finish running through numbers twelve through forty-two on my list on our way there?”

Isabel forced a smile. “That sounds great.”

Tami watched Giselle rush out of the office, scanning her fishnets and tight skirt with a judgmental glare.

“God, if I could have her tight little body for just one day, I think I would actually try to get laid in the elevator.  I’ve always wanted to have sex in an elevator.”

Isabel barely heard her. “You see what’s going on, don’t you?”

“She’s your very own Mini-Me,” Tami confirmed. “And Phillip’s your very own Dr. Evil who’s grooming her as your replacement.  Not even Jett has done something that stupid to me, and Jett is the King of Stupid.”

Isabel slid down into Phillip’s executive leather chair and eyed his marble chessboard. “It’s really that bad, isn’t it.”

“Look, Isabel…” Tami paused, adjusting her glasses and replacing her irreverence with sincerity.  “I don’t know what’s going on with Phillip, but I do know one thing:  Phillip can’t afford to lose you.  His break up with Symeon Colovos was bad, but if you leave the company, the heart and soul of his entire business goes with you.  So if I were you, I’d figure out how to get Phillip on the phone and make him aware that
you’re
his senior executive assistant—and no one else. Unless, of course, you’re planning to accept Eliot Watercross’ offer, in which case, all I ask from you is that you don’t make me find out by reading your resignation email.  We’ve been friends for five years, Isabel, and that’s just lame, and if you’re going to leave for something bigger and better, I want to be the first one to congratulate you.”

Isabel peered up at her friend with appreciation.

“Thanks, Tami. That really means a lot to me.”

“No problem.” Tami nodded with a smirk. “Biatch.”

* * * *

After a long moment of silence, Isabel finally picked up the handset on Phillip’s desk and dialed his cell phone. 
No answer
.  She paused and considered leaving a message before hanging up.  Then, she listened to the desperation in her own heart before slowly dialing an alternative number—his personal cell phone. 

In the five years since working for Phillip, there had only been three times that Isabel had dialed his personal cell phone to reach him: once—when he had traveled to England to attend his mother’s funeral; a second time—during his two-week vacation to Italy with Marlow to celebrate their engagement; and now. She held her breath and listened to the distant ominous ring. 
Eight, nine, ten
, she counted the rings without connecting to his voice mail. 
Probably better
, she thought, preparing to hang up.  She had no intention of leaving any message.

“Yes?”

The dark brooding timber of his voice caught her off-guard. 

Isabel hesitated before speaking into the receiver.  “Phillip?”

“Yes.” His voice softened with acknowledgement, recognizing her immediately.  He paused, waiting for her to speak first.  She choked up with silence, completely uncertain about her original intention for calling.

“It’s me.  I’m sorry for the interruption, but I wanted to check in with you.” She paused, gathering her thoughts while wrapping the phone cord around her finger like a tourniquet.  “You know, the gala’s tonight and there’s still so much to discuss…”