1. Eden

ONE

eden

Ever have a day where the feeling of foreboding is so strong that going back to bed, pulling the covers over your head, and turning on The Golden Girls is the only sane option?

Yeah, me too.

Today's that day.

First, I oversleep, something I never do.

Then, the zipper on my favorite pencil skirt breaks.

Followed by dropping the mascara wand on my white blouse.

Next obstacle—the second elevator in my well-placed apartment building in Lennox Hill is on the fritz, which means it takes me twice as long to get out of the building.

My local barista can't do me wrong, right?

Wrong.

I pick up my venti vanilla latte with three espresso shots, only to find on the train ride to my small but well-placed office in Midtown Manhattan that it's a chai tea.

I hate chai tea.

The twitch camped out between my shoulder blades since I woke up doesn't let up as I walk through the door of my office .

"Eden, Mason Jackstone's agent's on the phone."

Katie, my assistant, pokes her head into my minimally decorated office with a deep frown on her face that makes my stomach turn.

"Thanks." I plaster a smile on my face to hide the nerves in my voice as I pick up the phone. "Barb, how are you today?"

The sigh from the other end is heavy, and that twitch shifts into full throttle. "Eden, I'm sure you've seen the news."

I roll my shoulders. "Um, no. It's been a busy morning."

Another heavy sigh. "Mason had an accident on his motorcycle. He's going to be in the hospital for at least a week, maybe longer if he needs another surgery. Obviously, he's unable to speak at the charity ball."

And there it is.

Fuck my life.

The bad feeling I'd fought all morning has come to fruition.

"Oh my God! Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so. He has a mild concussion and some bad road rash. The biggest thing is his leg and arm. In the long run, he'll be okay. But it's going to take some time." Barb pauses. "I'm so sorry, Eden. I know this is last minute."

"I'm just glad Mason is okay. Don't worry about me. I'll find a replacement." I inject enthusiasm I don't feel into the words.

I am happy he's alive—I'm not a monster.

After a few moments, Barb and I say our goodbyes, and I lean back in my gently used office chair, trying not to have a complete meltdown.

Mason Jackstone is the it guy right now in the world of sports. And the trio of New York football players turned real estate billionaires that hired my company, Perfection Planning, to manage their event are all extreme sports junkies.

Mason was the perfect fit for them.

And now the one ace I had in the hole is gone.

Not only is this charity ball one of the most talked about events of the year, but it's also the only thing that stands between me and bankruptcy.

If I don't pull off this event, I can't pay the balloon payment on my loan.

If I don't pay the loan, I lose everything. Including the team of fifteen people I treasure and that depend on me for their livelihoods.

I'm not a huge corporation, but I have a decent-sized business and pay my people well for the work they do. We all work hard and reap the rewards.

At least, that had been the idea when I started the company and hired my employees.

Still, we're a family and I need to take care of them.

Unfortunately, I went to college and got a PR degree, not a business degree, so I've learned some lessons from the school of hard knocks.

Money management being top of the list.

Katie walks in with her pale pink "cat mom" mug, a tendril of steam rising from it. "Mason's out?" she asks, sinking down in the chair on the other side of my desk.

I sigh. "Yeah."

She nods. "I figured as much after I saw the article about his accident."

"How did I not hear about this?"

She flips a lock of her rose-gold hair over her shoulder. "Don't you watch the news?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, I watch the news. Current events, world issues, the weather. What I don't watch is the E! News channel."

She sips her coffee. "Well, see? You should. If you did, you'd know he was hit by a certain Hollywood starlet who's drinking again and nearly killed him. Nasty accident. "

I rub my forehead to ward off the marching band setting up behind my eyes. "Well, send a gift to Barb so it will get to him. Bottle of whiskey or something."

"I'll figure it out."

And she'd no doubt make me look good, like always. She's a gem, in spite of her irrational love for the color pink and a wardrobe that makes her look like she stepped out of the fifties.

I lean my head back and sigh, turning my chair toward the window. It isn't a big window, but the location and view are worth every penny of the exorbitant rent I pay.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink hard against them.

No time for tears, Eden . Real Mitchells don't cry.

Yes, Mama. I'm sorry.

I clear my throat and face Katie. "Okay, we need a name that's going to draw a big crowd, preferably someone in the sports realm, like Mason. These guys want donations, so we need to bring someone in that will lighten the deep pockets of those coming to the event."

Lost in thought, I sip from my cup and almost gag, forgetting it's chai tea. "Can you get me some coffee? I ended up with someone's chai tea."

"On it."

When she comes back with my coffee, she rattles off a couple of movie stars we've worked with in the past, a well-known motivational speaker, and a retired basketball player that would still draw in the high rollers.

"Yeah, we're not getting any of those this late in the game." My nerves spark under my skin, and I need to move. Pacing my office, all I can think of is complete blanks.

"I know you aren't going to like this suggestion," Katie says, "but I know who would be perfect for this if available."

I raise my head, frowning. "Who?"

"Hollywood Hanover. "

My eyes bulge. "Chase Hanover? As in my ex, Chase Hanover?"

Katie picks imaginary lint off her white and pink polka-dotted skirt, her eyes averted. "I was thinking more along the lines of Hollywood Hanover, former major league baseball superstar."

"No."

"You know, the elusive Hollywood Hanover that everyone is still trying to interview since his retirement a few years ago."

I roll my eyes. I hate the ridiculous nickname the media gave him. "No. Hard pass," I say. "Besides, even if we could find him, he wouldn't do it anyway."

"Why not?"

I sit with a thump in my chair, tightness spreading across my chest. "The last time I saw Chase was four years ago after the memorial service. We haven't spoken since."

"Okay, that happens sometimes. Time passes, etc."

I shift in my chair. "Yeah, well we didn't exactly part on great terms."

That night plays rent free in my head more often than it should. So many emotions filled that night.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Last I knew he'd moved to Florida. But I don't know." I'd made it clear I didn't want to know since I never returned his calls.

But I have a pretty good idea where he landed, and I know who can tell me.

She rises and shuts the door before coming to sit on the edge of my desk.

"Look, I don't know what went on between you and Chase, but this is business. It can't hurt to try. If he says no…" She bobs her head from side to side. "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. "

My assistant's right—this is business. Emotions have no place here. I can't let a little thing like him being the one that got away interfere with my livelihood.

I can do this.

I have to do this.

Regret knots up in my gut, but time's running out and so are my choices.

"Okay, fine. I'll talk to Chase."

"Good. How can I help?"

"Find me Liz Fallon's number."

The more I think about it, the more I warm up to it, and adrenaline courses through my veins.

I rattle off more instructions for her including travel arrangements for first thing in the morning and to rearrange my schedule.

"Call an emergency staff meeting. I'll talk with the team about the proposal and what's going on."

"Will do." Katie chews her lip, then rubs her nose.

Aw, shit. Her bad news tell. "What is it?"

"You know there's a tropical storm headed toward Florida, right?"

I type out an email, half listening. "Yeah, I heard about it. But it's bound to happen. It is October after all and still hurricane season. It's fine though. It's still a couple of days away, and they're predicting it will move out over the Atlantic anyway. It'll be fine. As long as the Jacksonville airport is open, I'm going and it'll be fine."

"If you're sure…"

"Everything is going to be fine."