Page 54 of Five Stolen Rings
Subject:SMITH & SONS GOSSIP INCOMING!!!
STELLA OMG YOU ARE OFFICIALLY A HOME-WRECKER!!! Okay hi so this is Dawn by the way, I obviously didn’t want to use my work email. Okay so after you left guess what—Fuller Smith Jr. just announced that he and his wife are splitting!!! They sent an internal memo this morning that his wife would be leaving the company bc of it. I know you didn’t know who he was because he mostly ran the branch in NYC, but you came on to a MARRIED MAN who is not going to be married anymore!!! You are a legend. His wife was ugly anyway and I heard she wasn’t very good at what she did so I wouldn’t stress about it too much.
Okay I just wanted to tell you that!!! Bye!!!
STELLA
I wake up in a bed I’ve never seen, in a room I’ve never been in, with the type of headache I haven’t experienced in years.
What. The. Heck.
Panic spikes deep in my gut, and I take a quick mental inventory—nothing hurts except my head, and I seem to be wearing all my clothes.
Okay, good. This is good. Some of my initial concern subsides.
But where am I?
I glance around the room, but I don’t see any photographs. It’s pretty generic, with white walls and a poofy gray comforter and a wooden chest of drawers. There are no photos or knick-knacks on top, just a small brown box, so that’s not helpful.
But there’s a closet with an open door…and it’s full of men’s dress shirts.
This is bad. This is bad, bad, bad. I need to figure out where I am and what happened.
There was a clock on the nightstand when I took my cursory look; my eyes fly back to it and discover that it’s six in the evening.
Okay. It’s the evening. So what’s the last thing I remember?
“My clutch,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Sophronia called about my clutch, and they were having brunch, and Bridget started asking about my job…” My jaw drops as it hits me. “Theeggnog.” I squeeze my eyes shut and rack my brain, trying to pull my fuzzy memories back into focus.
I basically chugged a lot of eggnog, because it’s my favorite, and it was gone by the time I realized it had alcohol. Somebody made a phone call, and then…
You’ve had quite a morning.
I clamp my hand over my mouth to hide the horrified gasp that escapes me.
Jack.Jack came to get me, and I’m pretty sure I cried a lot, and at one point he might have lifted me off the ground?
I think—I think I might even have blown my noseon his shirt.Did that happen?
I twist around and grab the pillow on the bed behind me, holding it up to my face and inhaling deeply. A faint hint of something crisp and spearminty—that’s his smell.
I groan. I am at Jack’s house.I am in Jack’s bed.
“I have to get out of here,” I mutter, scrambling out of bed and almost falling on my face because my foot gets caught in the sheet. Maybe I can sneak out? There’s a window I could go through.
Yes, call me stupid or petty or immature. I don’t care. Icannot face Jack Piorra like this, hungover and mortified and, yes, still reeling from the way he kissed me last night.
Because—I sigh as I finally let myself remember—he didn’t just kiss me. He devoured me. He was hungry and intense and I loved it, and I should not have loved it.
I barely know the man anymore. Sure, he’s intelligent and competent and snarky, and yes, he’s a natural caretaker, and maybe I have a weakness for a man in a doctor’s coat, but?—
“Cut it out,” I say, patting my cheeks firmly. “You just got him back in your life. He doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he could. Don’t make things messy.”
Besides, he might not hate me, but he doesn’t love me, either. He was quick to agree the kiss was a fluke.
I force myself to still and take a deep, steadying breath, because I can only focus on one thing at a time, and right now I need to focus on getting out of here unseen.
Seems a little ungrateful not to say thank you, though. Maybe I could leave a note?
