Yes, Sir.

Chapter 32: Suspicious

CHAPTER 32

Two days later and I'm still fuming over the stupid email my stupid ex sent me. Ryan wants to talk to me. He wants to speak with me and see how I'm doing. That's what the email said, anyways. My stomach churns when I remember how he signed it. Love always, Ryan.

As if. The man cheated on me with one of my best friends, got me fired, and ruined my job interview within a span of two weeks. In my mind, he more closely resembles Satan. Or, as I told Harry, an amoeba.

I haven't told anyone about it, either. Renee has been weirdly distant lately, when I texted to ask how her lunch date with Louis went she replied with a short "Fine." I can't tell Liam, because then I would have to spill about Ryan and he would try to comfort me and I just can't deal with that.

That leaves Harry, and I'm sure as hell never telling him.

The phone on my desk rings shrilly, cutting off my thoughts. I reach over and answer while rubbing my forehead tiredly.

"Hello?"

"Miss Evans, hello. This is Lydia Baker, the banquet manager from the Miriam Hotel."

"Oh, yes. How are you?" I ask. Harry is hosting a conference/celebration type thing because he's about to seal this big deal with a famous cell phone company. He insisted that I book the Miriam Hotel ballroom because it's one of the nicest in New York City.

"I'm doing fine. I was just wondering if you still wanted to host breakfast, since the afternoon reservation was cancelled."

"What do you mean the reservation was cancelled?" I laugh nervously. "What idiot would do something like that?"

"Well, you did, Miss Evans," Lydia explains lightly. "I received a written notice from you earlier this morning."

"That's impossible," I snap and then take in a breath, trying to calm myself down. "What did the note say?"

"It said that the conference had been moved up a day so you booked it somewhere else. I have it right here on your personal stationary, with your signature and everything."

My eyes snap towards my stack of expensive stationary. Ryan got it for me for Christmas last year, and it was just too pretty for me to throw away. I grip the phone tighter in my hand before speaking.

"Are you sure it's not a photocopy?" I question.

"I doubt it. It's on extremely high quality paper with embossed gold lettering."

That's definitely my stationary. Now the real question is who the hell stole it and forged my signature?

"The date has not been cancelled, Mrs. Baker," I inform her sharply. "I would like to rebook the ballroom for that afternoon, please."

"I'm sorry, Miss Evans, but when we received your letter we booked a last minute wedding during that time frame. We have a waiting list that's backed up for months," Lydia kindly explains.

I yank nervously on a lock of my hair. "The conference is in less than a week, what am I supposed to do now?"

"We can still accommodate the breakfast," Lydia says, "But after that, I'm afraid you're out of luck. All ballrooms and conference rooms are booked for the rest of the day."

Fabulous. Harry is going to kill me.

"Reinstate our reservation for breakfast, please," I sigh and then hang up the phone. I glance at my boss from his office window but he doesn't see me. I watch him type something up on his computer for a minute, mentally preparing myself for him to lose his shit.