Chapter 8

Annabelle strummed her fingers on her desk, perusing the parent company's website. She had so many other things to do, but found herself looking at pictures of all the chairpersons on the board and the organizing committee members. She couldn't place which member's son was Kensington, and it was starting to annoy her. She didn't have his last name to help the puzzle pieces fit into place. She wished she hadn't told her staff to wait a few days on getting her the paperwork. If she had it, she'd have the answer. She knew she could call up Stella or Dane and ask the name of her future date, but then they'd know something was up, and she didn't want to open that floodgate with those two gossipers.
More importantly, she was irritated at herself for even caring who he was. "Manwhore," she grumbled under her breath. She rubbed her tired eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back off her shoulders. She exhaled loudly, for it had been a long, tiring weekend, and she was exhausted.
She glanced at the clock. She had fifteen minutes before she had to leave to get to The House for her twenty-four-hour shift.