Carla awoke with a jolt and looked around in a sleepy daze. She’d had the oddest dream, something about a bare-chested man on a horse, riding toward her. A man with olive skin and piercing eyes. She awaited him wearing a long, flowing dress, standing on a rocky beach where he was about to rescue her from vicious hissing snakes slithering all around her feet. She shivered as she thought back on it, but then groaned aloud. Seriously, Carla? The man on the horse had been Jackson. Crap. One day and he was already starring in her dreams.
She shook her head. The dream had seemed so real. It even had a film score accompanying it. Except… She looked over at the night table, where she’d left her cell phone. The light flashed while it rang. That was no film score she’d been hearing, but the William Tell Overture. She cleared her throat and snatched up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Carla?” Ice rattled and she heard a faint sucking sound, that of someone finishing the last drops of a soda through a straw. “Is that you?”
“Bryce?” She brushed a hand across her eye, swiping away the sleep. “What time is it?”
“Oh, it’s early. I wanted to catch you before I left for the office.”
She sighed and glanced at the bedside clock. Five forty-five. Hell. She was not a morning person. “Well, I guess you’ve done that. I was still sleeping.”
“You should be up. Today’s the first day and you don’t want to be late.”
No apology, no sympathy, no inquiry as to how she was doing. Just a bit of scolding before breakfast. Lovely.
“I’m hardly going to be late. I’ve got three alarms set.”
“Why didn’t you call me yesterday?” She heard the faint sucking sound again. No surprise.
Bryce was a voracious diet soda drinker. Like an addict, the first thing he did upon waking was to crack open a can, and he took his last sip of the day right before turning out the lights.
Carla felt her body tense with irritation, a frequent occurrence whenever she spoke to Bryce. She’d never particularly liked him, but played nice because his mother and hers had been best friends since childhood. Her mother had told her, about a thousand times, how much it would mean to both her and Bryce’s mother, Joan, if their children were to marry. Carla would be like the daughter Joan never had.
Problem was, Bryce was an avaricious narcissist with a grotesque capacity for ambition, aligning himself with Carla so he could wallow like a hog in her family’s wealth. It was that very ambition that made Carla’s mother believe Bryce would be an enormous asset in Carla’s life. His zealous drive for success could help steer her career ever upward, lending a guiding hand in navigating treacherous corporate waters. He’d even fooled her parents into believing he was crazy about her and waiting only for the right time to propose. To her, he had all the personality of a leech, attaching himself strictly for the purpose of sucking the life out of her.
“I’ve been busy,” she said. “And I’m busy now. I need to get ready.”
“You can’t expect me to believe you need to swing into action when sixty seconds ago you were sleeping.” Suck, suck. “So tell me what’s going on.”
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs to maximum capacity, and then slowly, slowly, pushing the air out. She’d learned the relaxation technique years ago in a yoga class. Turned out to be useful in preventing her from verbally tearing Bryce’s head off. “There’s nothing to tell so far. I just got here. I met Jackson and several of his researchers and had a tour of the grounds. That’s about it.”
“Huh.” She could hear the boredom in his voice already, but then he seemed struck by a thought. “Who’s Jackson?”
“Jackson Rivard. He owns the research facility.” “Yeah?” Suck. “What do they research?”
“Ah…” The mere thought of the purpose here had the effect of someone slamming defibrillator paddles on her heart, with the once steady beats roaring into triple time.
“They research…um…king cobras.”
“Snakes?” He sputtered, as if ejecting the diet soda from his nose. “That’s what they’re researching?” She heard his scoff of evil scientist laughter. “Good luck with that.”
Jerk. “It’ll be fine.” Just hearing his laughter, as if he were a mean little school boy scaring a girl with a lizard, put determination in Carla’s backbone and made her straighten in bed. Bryce was such a creep, offering zero support and laughing at her fears. Time to ditch him and get to work. “In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” Her resolve came through loud and clear.
She could sense Bryce’s surprise. “Well, I’m not sure I believe—”
“Believe it.” She flipped back the covers and rose from the bed. “And now I have to go. I’ll call you.” “Don’t forget. I’m speaking to your mother later today. She’ll want to know we touched base.” “Later.” She hung up before he could get in another word. How like Bryce, to think he could manipulate her actions through her mother. She padded across the room to the shower. What a spineless, deceitful—
She cut off the thoughts with a twist of the shower knob. She refused to poison her mind with rage and begin her fear assignment out of focus and distracted. In fact, she thought, stepping into the water and letting it cascade down her face and body, she was no longer even going to think of this as a fear assignment.
From now on, it would be a fantastic assignment, one filled with learning, opportunity, and — admit it, you’re by yourself — a bit of eye candy to boot. From now on she will have a month of fun, not fear.