chapter two

Annie Williams woke up the following morning with the same problem she'd gone to bed thinking about.

Six months.

That was all the time she had to find a way to repay Derek Halloway and protect her family's home.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment, calculating expenses in her head. Her salary was already stretched thin, and even if she stopped spending on everything that wasn't absolutely necessary, she doubted she'd save enough.

Taking another job was an option, but Whitmore Global already demanded most of her day. Her family also depended on her being available when she returned home.

Eventually, she got out of bed, showered, and dressed for work.

She had no solution yet, but she couldn't afford to give up.

By the time she arrived at Whitmore Global, the office was unusually lively.

Employees stood in small groups near the reception area, whispering among themselves. Even those who normally arrived quietly with coffee in hand seemed eager to discuss something.

As Annie walked past, she caught a few words.

The heir.

Jeremy Whitmore.

He's coming today.

She barely paid attention. She had more pressing matters to worry about than the arrival of a wealthy man's son.

Besides, she'd worked at Whitmore Global long enough to know that the employees could turn the smallest announcement into a day's worth of discussion.

She wasn't interested in joining them.

Her office occupied part of a spacious administrative floor designed around an open-plan layout. Rows of desks stood beneath bright overhead lights, with computers, telephones, and neatly arranged documents filling the workstations. Glass partitions separated the meeting rooms from the main floor, while wide windows offered a view of Manhattan's busy streets.

There were no private offices for most employees. Everyone worked within sight of one another, making communication easy and privacy nearly impossible.

It also made gossip travel remarkably fast.

Especially when Sophie Bennett was around.

"Annie."

Annie had barely settled into her chair when her friend leaned forward from the desk directly opposite hers.

"Annie," Sophie repeated, lowering her voice. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?"

Sophie stared at her in disbelief.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"About what, Sophie?"

"The Whitmore heir!"

Annie turned toward her computer. "Oh. That."

Sophie looked personally offended.

"That? That's all you have to say?"

"What exactly do you want me to say?"

"Something that proves you still have a pulse."

Annie laughed under her breath.

Sophie was her closest friend at work, a cheerful, talkative woman with an endless appetite for gossip. If someone changed their hairstyle, Sophie noticed. If two colleagues exchanged meaningful glances, she investigated.

And if a handsome, wealthy man was expected at the office, Sophie treated it like a national holiday.

Annie was used to her friend's habits, even if they occasionally tested her patience.

"All right," Annie said, opening a document. "Tell me what has you so excited."

Sophie leaned farther across her desk.

"Jeremy Whitmore is coming in today."

"I gathered that from the twenty people discussing him outside."

"And you haven't even asked what he looks like."

"Why would I? I've never met the man."

"Exactly. Allow me to educate you."

Annie pressed her lips together to hide a smile.

Here we go.

"First of all, he's handsome. Wickedly handsome, according to someone in the executive department who saw him at a company event last year. Tall, blue eyes, dark hair, and a face that should honestly come with a warning."

"Should it?"

"Absolutely. Apparently, he has the kind of smile that makes women forget what they were saying."

"How unfortunate for their vocabulary."

Sophie covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.

"You're not taking this seriously."

"Because I'm working."

"Work will still be there in five minutes."

"So will my bills."

The remark came out more seriously than Annie intended.

Sophie paused.

"You're still thinking about yesterday, aren't you?"

Annie's fingers slowed over the keyboard. Her friend knew about the debt her father had left behind, but she didn't know about the new deadline Derek had imposed.

Annie wasn't ready to discuss it.

"I'll be fine," she said quietly.

Sophie studied her for a moment before allowing the conversation to move on.

"Anyway, Jeremy is the only son of Richard Whitmore. The money, the connections, the family name. He practically owns a golden ticket to life."

"Good for him."

"Annie!"

"What?"

"You make it sound like you're discussing the weather."

"Would you prefer I discuss his cheekbones?"

Sophie burst into laughter.

"You're impossible."

"And you're a menace."

"A very informed menace."

Annie shook her head, smiling despite herself.

For a few minutes, Sophie's chatter distracted her from her worries. But as soon as her friend returned to her own work, Annie's thoughts drifted back to the deadline hanging over her family.

Six months.

She opened her banking application, studied the balance, and quickly closed it again.

There was no point torturing herself before she'd even started the day.

She returned to her computer, determined to concentrate.

Then, at precisely ten o'clock, an announcement came through the office communication system.

All staff members were requested to assemble in the main conference hall for an important meeting.

The message was brief, but the reaction was immediate.

Chairs scraped across the floor as employees saved their work and began gathering their belongings.

Sophie appeared beside Annie's desk almost before the announcement ended.

"Come on!"

Annie saved her document.

"What's the hurry?"

Sophie stared at her as though she'd asked the most ridiculous question imaginable.

"Jeremy Whitmore is about to be introduced to the entire company, and you're asking me what's the hurry?"

Annie stood, picked up her notebook, and followed her friend.

She still had no idea what the fuss was about.

But judging by Sophie's excitement, the morning was about to become considerably more interesting.