“It’s your brother…” For a moment, Gunther seemed lost for words.
Wilhelm sat. His guts told him something was amiss, his hands splayed on top of his desk, and in mere seconds his entire world came crashing down.
Chapter Three
Juliette cursed her decision not to install the joke gift Noelle had given her last Christmas. It was a little plastic console that one mounted on one’s dashboard with three big red buttons that made noises when one pushed them. One was a laser, one was a photon torpedo, and one was for a nuclear warhead. Traffic was so infuriating as she drove to Wilhelm’s office, she could have used a few weapons to blow other drivers out of her way.
“Much road rage, super wow,” Noelle had joked once when they left the shop together for a bit of retail therapy. And then she’d given her the joke weapon as a gift.
Juliette took a few deep breaths, trying not to let the slow crawl of cars get to her. After all, she needed to calm down as much as possible, even while she was still vibrating with anger about the rent hike and the curious timing of that letter and Wilhelm’s latest expansion proposal. If she didn’t get ahold of herself, she’d simply rage at him, and she had a strong suspicion that he wasn’t a tiger who appreciated such displays.
She needed to be logical, collected, and cool. Even when he half-grinned at her and licked his bottom lip like he had a habit of doing.
Juliette growled and shook her head. No, she was not going to let the gorgeous sight of him deter her. She was stronger than that. Yeah. Hardcore.
When she finally got to his office building, she thought she might have a fight on her hands to even be allowed to his floor without an appointment. After all, Wilhelm Sorenson was a big shot. God knew people like him didn’t commingle with commoners. She decided she’d make a scene right then and there that might prompt him to
come down to see her, if necessary.
To her surprise, the receptionist at the first desk gave her a little clip-on badge that read “Guest” and pointed her toward the elevators.
She was thrown after expecting an argument. “I can go up … just like that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the woman said, typing into her computer as she spoke. “You’re on the list of VIPs who don’t need an appointment to see Mr. Sorenson. You’re to be allowed up at any time.”
Well. This was unexpected. Juliette thanked her and headed for the elevator. Was that because she rented from Wilhelm’s property management company? Or because he was so presumptuous to think she might just show up one day and take him up on one of his many dinner-date offers?
Why that slimy scu—
Chill, Juliette. She calmed herself as she felt her incisors push through her gums. She was quite pissed as she rode up in the elevator, sure it was a case of Wilhelm simply assuming she couldn’t resist him. Calm, cool, collected, Juliette. Stick to the facts.
She’d only ever been to this office once to sign the lease paperwork, but today it was nothing like it was then. Then, it was a noisy place with people bustling to and fro, talking and laughing, and Gunther, Wilhelm’s beta, flirting with her a mile a minute as he showed her to Wilhelm’s door. Today, there was only the sound of shuffling papers and a phone ringing. Gunther sat at the first desk she saw with a person behind it, his handsome face pale and pinched.
He glanced up to see her approaching, his eyes flashing with golden glitter for a split second before they returned to deep reddish-brown. “Ms. Crabtree, how are you?” He smiled and reached for her hand, and even that seemed a strain for him. She wondered if Wilhelm was having some kind of business crisis, because everything about Gunther and the office felt so grim.
“Just Juliette, please. I’m here to see Wilhelm. It’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry, but now is not a good time. Perhaps I can help you instead?”
He looked so downtrodden that she almost gave in, but then she remembered how she’d felt when she’d opened that letter. “I’m afraid I need to speak directly to him.”
“Juliette … today is—”
“I came all the way across town, and I am on his VIP list. The least you could do is let him know I’m here so he can decide whether he can see me?” She didn’t care if there was a business crisis today. She was having an anger crisis over the idea that he might hold doubling her rent over her head to get her to open a new shop.
Gunther sighed and lifted the phone out of its cradle. He pushed a button and waited with his eyes closed. “Wilhelm, Juliette Crabtree is here to see you. I told her it was a bad time, but—yes—yes, I will.” Gunther shook his head. “I’m sorry, Juliette. He wants me to express his regret and promises—”
Juliette hurried around Gunther’s desk and stormed for Wilhelm’s door. She’d worked up her ire and her courage, and she wasn’t going to leave there until she spoke her mind. Rawr!
“Wait,” Gunther said, rushing after her, but she was smaller and faster, and had pushed Wilhelm’s door open before he reached her.
“I’m so sorry, Wilhelm,” Gunther said, taking her arm as if to pull her away. But she was frozen in place at the sight of a baby crib next to Wilhelm’s desk.
A baby crib.
With a baby in it.
“It’s all right. I’ll handle this,” Wilhelm said, the high back of his leather chair facing them. Gunther left, closing the door behind him. Wilhelm didn’t immediately turn, so Juliette took a few steps forward, and a baby’s cry vibrated through the room.