Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

A headache loomed behind Regie's eyeballs. She massaged her temples, but it didn't help.

"You skipped lunch again, didn't you?" Payel made it sound more like a statement than a question.

"Nope, I actually ate both a sandwich and a banana."

That morning, there'd been a flurry of email threats from her stalker. He—she assumed a man, but she really shouldn't discriminate—the person, they, had witnessed the paparazzi outside her office the night before and now raged against Bolt. She apparently could not date anyone. Regie wished she could share the reason for her headache with Payel, but although Heimdall didn't suspect her assistant, so far, they wanted the stalker situation kept under tight wraps.

"I'm in pain because Grandfather, once again, changed his plans last minute. Very last minute." She'd forwarded all the messages to Heimdall Shield. Arek Varg hoped the stalker would become upset enough to make a mistake, so that they could track down the origin of the messages this time. Besides, her grandfather's behavior also contributed to her headache.

"It's hard working with family," Payel said, her lips pursed. She never criticized Regie's grandfather, but her facial expressions always revealed how she felt about the older man hijacking the schedule. "What plans do we need to alter?"

Regie appreciated Payel's loyalty to Regie and the company. "He sent paparazzi waiting for me and Bolt outside the office last night. An altercation happened between them and security." She decided to leave Bolt's actions out of the description. His instant protective stance still made her insides flutter. Why did such aggressive gestures turn her on? She'd been without sex for too long. That must be it.

Payel nodded. "I saw the pictures, but wanted to wait to until this afternoon to bring them up in case they would upset you."

Regie smiled and lowered her hands from her head. "That's very considerate of you."

"More like self-preservation." Payel grinned. "I didn't want to derail what we have to work on this afternoon."

"Well, that is what we need to change. Thanks to those pictures, the board now wants me to make an official announcement about my engagement earlier. As in today, this afternoon." The pictures hadn't been too bad. The magazines had, of course, picked the most unflattering shots of Regie where every pore and wrinkle on her face showed up as she stared into the camera, her pupils tiny because of the flash, which made her pale blue eyes look almost white. Basically, she looked like a prematurely aging opium addict.

"Okay, I'll write up a press release. As soon as you approve it, I'll send it to all the major media outlets and also directly to those journalists who we know are our friends." Payel's stylus flew across her tablet.

"I have to do it in person," Regie said. "Two of the board members are patrons of a non-profit organization for the arts, and they have an exhibition late this afternoon. They want me there, with Bolt, and I'm supposed to announce the engagement to the media, who'll cover the event."

Payel's hand paused midair, the stylus balanced between two fingers. "Today? But we have a meeting with the Colorado franchise people this afternoon. We already rescheduled with them once. They're not going to be happy about us standing them up again."

"I know, and I'm sorry to ask you to delay the meeting again." She hated to reschedule any meetings because her packed schedule just became more unruly when stuff didn't happen in their original time slot. But this time, she hated it extra much because Payel had put extra time into the project and taken more of a lead role. "Listen, you know more about this project than anyone. "You should do the meeting without me. You know what I would agree to and what I would veto. Lead the discussion according to those guidelines without actually promising anything."

Payel stared at her. "They're not going to want to meet with your assistant when they've been promised the CEO of the company."

"We didn't promise them anything," Regie countered. "We scheduled a meeting for them to present their initial offer of a collaboration, and that's exactly what you're giving them. Besides, I think it's about time that you took more of an official lead role on some projects. You are more than ready for them." The more she thought about this, the more right it seemed to her. "I'd like to move you into a project management position. With a raise, of course."

Payel pressed her lips together and looked away. "I don't want to get a promotion just because you can't make a meeting." She sounded hurt.

"That's not why I'm offering it to you. You know me better than that. I'm offering you a bigger role with bigger pay because I know that you are ready for that. Think on it for a while and if you're not ready, we continue as before." Regie tilted her head. "But your track record over the past few months, especially on this project, has shown me that you are more than ready. "

"Okay," Payel mumbled. "But what about being your assistant? I can't do both."

Regie smiled. "The promotion comes with a catch. You have to promise to find and train your replacement."

Before Payel could answer, the office door opened, and Regie's grandfather strode in, holding a tabloid in his hand. "These pictures look awful. Why didn't you smile at the camera like the media training taught you?"

Regie sighed inwardly. When she started Lofn Wellness, she'd had to make a few public statements and had hired a coach to teach her how to dress and speak to appear her best on film. Her grandfather thought it also included how to pose for pictures and refused to believe otherwise, no matter how many times Regie told him.

Payel stood. "I'll take care of this afternoon's meeting and will let you know about the other stuff we discussed."

"Okay." Regie shot her a grateful smile, watching her step past Grandfather and hurry out the door.

The older man didn't acknowledge her—hopefully soon-to-be former—assistant. He continued the advance toward Regie's desk and smacked the paper on the desk. "You can't be unprepared when photographers show up. You have to look your best at every media opportunity."

"It would have helped if you'd warned me that there would be a ‘media opportunity' as I left my office at the end of the day."

Her grandfather scoffed. "I left you a message. It's not my fault if you don't pick up your voicemail."

Regie shook her head. "I received no such notice." The older man had insisted before that he'd left a message she never received. It worried her. She had tried to get him to text instead, but he refused.

Grandfather raised his hand and opened his mouth, then took a step sideways and sank into a chair in front of her desk. His hand shook as he gripped the armrest.

Regie shot out of her chair and rushed to his side. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head and swatted her hand away when she reached for his wrist to check his pulse. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

She noticed the pale tone of his skin and how clammy it felt when she could finally take his pulse. His beats felt slower than she'd like, but still fell within the normal range. Regie poured a glass of water from the pitcher on a side table.

Her grandfather drank half of it and leaned back in the chair. His pallor improved, and Regie took a relieved breath. "When did you last have a check-up?" she asked.

He looked at her, scrunching up his lip and nose. "I have one every six months, and everything is fine and dandy with my health." He stood without any help from her. "I know you're going to the art event this afternoon. Make sure you smile and look more like a CEO of a Fortune 500 company in the pictures this time."

Regie wanted to argue that if he hadn't sicked the photographers on her the night before, she wouldn't have to upend her schedule and go to the afternoon's event. But she knew better than to confront her grandfather when he dug his heels in and refused to acknowledge any weakness or forgetfulness on his part. "Of course I will," she said instead.

He patted her arm, an unusual display of affection. They weren't the type to hug or even briefly touch each other. "I'm sure you will. You are my granddaughter, after all. And you look so much like your mother that we know my side of the family's DNA is dominant in you." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Regie heard the implied inferiority of her dad's genes loud and clear, but refrained from commenting. "I think you should call your doctor to schedule a check-up, even if it's just been a few months since the last one. Dizziness and fainting can be signs of more serious issues."

His mouth tightened, a clear sign she'd irritated him. "I didn't faint. I'm just dehydrated. It's been unusually warm today." He turned and walked out of the room.

Regie sighed. The day's temperature had been higher than usual for this time of year, but her grandfather would have worked inside in a climate-controlled environment .

She made a note to check in with her grandfather's doctor. She wouldn't share any details about the older man's health, but Regie could at least share her worries and see if the doctor agreed to an appointment sooner rather than later.

She wished for more emotional closeness with her grandfather. She cared deeply for him and the two of them were the only members of their small family. She did not want to lose him because of old-man stubbornness.