Miss White And The Seventh Heir

He shook his head, hoping it would chase away the unwanted thoughts. “No. Will you, ah, need someone to accompany you?”

“The tickets aren’t for me. I’ve assigned a reporter and a photographer.”

For some reason that he didn’t want to examine too closely, her answer disappointed him. He would have liked getting to know Sage outside of the office. She was a complex person. She had a good heart, but she didn’t let people get too close. She was willing to help people, but she refused to be helped. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know about her.

Sage stared at the three layouts. “Does one speak to you more than the others?”

“The singing for angels one makes me want to know who is singing and are they really singing to angels.”

“My thought exactly.” She turned off the other layouts and focused on the one he’d suggested. “I think the headline should be larger.”

“Aren’t you going to run a photo to go with the headline?”

“No.”

“I think you should.”

“That’s what other publications would do.”

“They do it because it works.”

Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Are you saying you don’t trust my judgment?”

“I’m saying why take chances when a photo will draw the fans?”

She leaned a curvy hip against her desk. “And what about the readers that aren’t big fans of the celebrity? Will they be drawn in, too?”

He shrugged. He hadn’t considered that angle. “But what if no one picks up the magazine or opens the digital edition?”

“Nothing is guaranteed.”

“Then why take a risk?” He stopped himself, realizing that by playing devil’s advocate he was fighting for the magazine to succeed. What was it about being around Sage that mixed up his thoughts?

“Because it’s my call.” Her tone was firm.

He got the hint. She was the boss and he wasn’t. So his opinion didn’t count. This gave him pause.

He’d said similar words to his own employees. He hadn’t any idea of how those words felt when you were on the receiving end. Going forward, he’d have to listen more and let his employees know that he valued their opinion.

“You’ve heard things about me, haven’t you?” Her gaze met his straight-on. Not giving him a chance to answer, she continued. “I know people talk, but if you think I’m going to let this magazine fold, you’ve been talking to the wrong people. I know what I’m doing.”

Suddenly he realized her response had less to do with him and more to do with her proving herself. The look in her eyes said the opposite of her words. In her blue eyes, he saw worry and doubt.

* * *

What was it about him that got to her?

Sage sat at her desk that evening. It was well past quitting time, but she had emails she’d pushed off all day that needed responses.

Besides, even if she went home, she wouldn’t be able to rest. Her mind kept replaying her disagreement with Trey. For some reason, he got under her skin. And that wasn’t good. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He was still in his ninety-day trial period. Letting him go at this stage would be quick and painless.

Tap. Tap.

Sage glanced up to find Louise standing in the open doorway. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“Am I that predictable?”

Louise nodded. “You need a life beyond these office walls.”

She would, just as soon as she reclaimed the legacy that Elsa stole from her. Until then, she had to keep working at QTR and earn her bonus in order to pay the private investigator. Someday this all would end.

“You looked like you had something serious on your mind when I walked in.” Louise took a seat. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“It’s Trey. I’m not sure he’s going to work out.”

“Really?” There was genuine surprise in Louise’s voice. “I thought he was easy on the eyes.”

He was. That was one of the problems. And when his hand had lingered on hers, her stomach had dipped like she was riding a roller coaster.

“He, um...doesn’t do things the way I expect them to be done.”

“But he does them?”

Sage grudgingly nodded. “And he has this habit of disagreeing with me.”

“So you want someone who agrees with everything you say?”

“No, but he’s...”

“He’s what?”

Distracting her—making her think of her sorely lacking social life. “He’s still on probation and I just want to make sure he’s the right fit.”

“As shorthanded as you are, can you afford to be picky?”

Louise was right. The Cannes Film Festival was later that month, and if they were fortunate enough to get passes, she needed someone reliable to help with it. And on top of being sexy, Trey had proven he was reliable.

She sighed. “You’re right. There isn’t time to find a replacement.”

“I think he’ll surprise you.”

That’s what she was afraid of.

* * *

His feet pounded the asphalt.

His muscles burned in that satisfying way.

His lungs strained to pull in more oxygen.

And Trey never felt more alive than when he was pushing his body to the limit. He normally made a point of running every morning. Today wasn’t normal. His life was anything but normal since he met Sage.

With evening setting in, he continued running—pushing himself. After bumping heads with Sage most of the afternoon, he was filled with pent-up energy. That woman was so frustrating and yet so enticing. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to yell at her or pull her into his arms and kiss her.

He let out a frustrated groan as he slowed to a walk a block from his condo. The sooner he got the information he’d come to QTR for, the better. Ever since he’d stepped inside the office, everything had grown increasingly complicated.

The shrubbery next to him shook. He came to a stop. There was no wind to explain the sudden rush of motion. It was probably a squirrel. He was about to move on when he heard a high-pitched whine. Or was it a bark. Could there be a dog in there?

Trey peered closer at the bush. In the long shadows of evening, it was hard to make out a dog in between the leafy limbs. Then the bush moved again.

Arf! Arf!

Trey straightened and looked around to see if someone was looking for their dog. The bush was sitting next to a park, but no one was around. Just then a car turned onto the street. By the time it reached Trey, it was well above the speed limit. He didn’t want anything to happen to the dog.

Trey turned back to the bush. Why was the dog in the bush? Had it gotten lose from its leash and gotten scared?

Trey already had enough of his own problems. He didn’t need someone else’s. But if he had lost a pet, he would want someone to go out of their way and make sure it got safely home.

With a sigh because he knew that he wasn’t going to get anything else done that evening, he crouched down next to the bush. “Come here, fella. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Arf! Arf!

The bark had to be a positive sign, right? Trey hadn’t had a dog growing up. His mother said that she had her hands full with him and running the house alone. She couldn’t take on a dog, too. As such, he didn’t really know much about animals.

He kept his voice soft. “Come on. Come here.”

He kept talking to the dog in gentle tones, hoping the dog would trust him enough to poke its head out. He wished that he had some food on him. If worse came to worst, he could run home and grab some food—

The leaves moved again. A little head poked out.

Trey didn’t waste any time. He cautiously moved his fisted hand toward the dog, hoping it wouldn’t bite him. Instead it sniffed him.

“Good boy.” Trey made sure to keep his voice low and steady. “I’m going to pick you up, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

And then he swiftly reached into the bush and wrapped his hand around the dog’s midsection. A clipped bark signaled the dog’s surprise. Before the dog could move, Trey was lifting it to him.

The dog weighed practically nothing. In fact, he could feel the dog’s ribs. Its fur was matted and dirty. Sympathy welled up in Trey.

“What in the world has happened to you?”

The dog shook with nerves. Ignoring the filth, Trey pulled the dog against his chest, trying to comfort it. The dog didn’t fight him. Trey wondered if it was because the dog at last knew it was safe or if it just didn’t have the strength to fight.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you home and fed.”

Trey felt awful that he’d almost kept going. The little dog was desperate for someone to care for it. He didn’t know that he was the ideal person for the job, but he would do his best.

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