Hot SEAL, Labor Day by Cynthia D'Alba

Author:Cynthia D'Alba [D'Alba, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946899316
Publisher: Riante, Inc.

Chapter 9

The next morning, Sawyer knocked on her door. When she opened it, he kissed her, handed her a cup of coffee, and waved as he jogged down the steps.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Want to finally do the Lakefront Circle? Maybe go on a hike?”

She took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you later.”

He blew a kiss and jogged out of sight.

Ana sagged into a chair on the porch. The sun was still low in the sky. A bright yellow ribbon burned across the water from the base of the sun. Somewhere, a bird chirped happily. A butterfly flittered across her porch, landing momentarily on the railing before taking off again. The scene was almost idyllic. She hated to mess up this perfect picture, but she should probably check her emails while Sawyer was gone. When she’d walked with Sawyer to the office to return his fishing gear, she’d noticed a “business area” with a computer and printer for guests. She’d finish her coffee and get dressed. Then she’d face her dragons.

Mandy was behind the desk in the office when Ana entered.

“Good morning,” Mandy said. “Everything okay with the cabin?”

“It’s perfect,” Ana replied. “This morning, the sun shining across the water was almost too ideal, as though someone painted it just for me.”

Mandy smiled. “Aaron and I are so lucky to live here. We talk about it often. What can I do for you today?”

“I wondered if I could use your business area to check my emails?” Ana tilted her head toward the computer and printer in the corner.

“Sure. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Ana sat and booted up the computer. After opening a web browser, she opened a tab for an incognito window, and closed the original tab. Now, she was supposed to be untraceable online. She guessed that would remain to be seen.

Her inbox was stuffed with over a thousand messages. Of course, many of them had come in before she’d left and she just hadn’t felt like dealing with them. However, one that’d come in on Friday did. It was from the Peabody Institute in Baltimore, Maryland. She clicked it first, and gasped as she read. She was being invited to serve as Artist-in-Residence for May of the following year. Stunned, she sat back in her chair. This was incredible. She wondered if Randall had read this yet as he’d been cc’d on the invite. She filed the message in her “invitations” folder and would respond when she returned.

Then she scanned through the long list of messages from Randall, Geoffrey, and her mother. She started with the earliest ones from last Friday.

Basically, her mother’s messages started out with concern. By Sunday’s message, she was demanding that Ana call Randall or Geoffrey, which was interesting. Not call home, but call her manager. Yesterday’s email from dear old mom was short and curt. Call Randall or else. Ana laughed to herself. Or else what? Cut her off?

First, she had a trust fund that would be hers when she turned thirty-three, or got married, whichever came first.

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