Breakfast could wait. She wasn’t all that hungry, and she’d dreamed about deadlines. Dreaming about work always left her in an anxious mood, and today was no different. She had to finish at least one project that was on her plate—if not the letters, then that last chapter of Astronaut Bill and Uranea that she kept promising to her publisher.
But the thought of writing more Astronaut Bill filled her with the usual loathing. She’d concentrate on finishing her cataloging of the letters, then. A week or two after she was already this late wouldn’t make much of a difference. Plus, she was a fancy bestseller now. Her mouth twisted into a sour smile at the thought. Yippee.
She padded across the manor on bare feet. The house was silent and dark, the sun not quite up yet. Hopefully that meant Eldon wasn’t up yet, either. A few minutes later, she opened the door to her library.
Igor stretched and meowed at her from the couch.
“Oh, no. Did I leave you in here all night?” She moved to pet his velvety head, making kissy noises at him. “I’ve been neglecting you shamefully, haven’t I? I can’t help it. I’ve got a new man in my life and he doesn’t even need kitty litter.”
The cat gave her a disgruntled look and then meowed again, flicking his tail at her and walking away.
Gretchen chuckled to herself, then headed to her desk.
And stopped, her heart dropping.
The vase of water that she normally kept her daily rose in was tipped over, the contents spilled all over the antique wood of the secretary . . . and her laptop.
“No, no, no!” She rushed forward, yanking her laptop out of the puddle. The case in her hands dripped, and when she turned it on one side to shake out the keyboard, droplets of water went everywhere. Frantic, she pushed the power button and held her breath, waiting.
Nothing.
Oh no.
Disbelieving, she hit the power button again, and then set the laptop down on one of the old-fashioned couches, racing back to her room. A hairdryer. That’s what she needed. She returned with it a few minutes later, plugged it into the wall, and flipped over the soaked laptop, her pulse pounding with anxiety. Maybe if she dried it out, things would be fine.
Twenty minutes later, she still had no power. Gretchen bit her lip, hard, her thoughts frantic. It was okay. She always made a backup of her work. Always. She normally emailed a copy to Kat—well, except this time she’d been avoiding Kat—and she always copied the file to her flash drive.
Which she always kept beside her computer.
Her flash drive! Gretchen bolted to her feet and ran for the sopping desk. Sure enough, her small, hot pink flash drive was sitting in a puddle of flower petals and water. She picked it up anyhow and clenched it in her hand, as if willpower could somehow restore her work.
Igor must have been thirsty, she reasoned. He’d knocked over the vase to get some water and her laptop had been in the way. She’d been so busy curling up with Hunter that she’d neglected her cat, and now she was paying for it.
Her stomach twisted into a sick knot.
All that work, down the drain.
Three weeks of work, gone.
The entire file of transcribed letters, gone.
Her latest Astronaut Bill manuscript, completely gone.
Any chance of getting paid before her landlord changed the locks? Gone.
Gretchen sank down on the couch, feeling wrecked. She stared at her poor laptop, at the flash drive in her hands.
No problem. She could fix this. She’d just start over . . . on both projects. In a few months, she’d be able to turn both in. And then she could get paid.
Gretchen burst into tears.
***
When Hunter awoke, he dressed and immediately headed for the opposite wing of the house. He’d had nightmares about being abandoned, and waking up without Gretchen’s warm body next to him hadn’t helped things.
His loneliness seemed to be slowly ebbing away, replaced with a new, different kind of agony—fear of abandonment. Hunter shook his head to clear it, trying to will away the bad dreams. He had Gretchen in his arms. She cared for him. She wasn’t going anywhere. After a visit to his greenhouse, he selected a white rose and set off in search of her, determined to deliver the rose himself.
Hunter found Gretchen curled up on one of the library couches, clutching her laptop and sobbing as if her heart had broken.
His own heart clenched at the sight. “Gretchen?”
She looked up, startled, and wiped the backs of her hands against her cheeks. “Oh. Hi. Sorry. I was just, um . . . working.” Her face crumpled and she began to cry again.
Something was wrong. He’d f**ked this up somehow and he was going to lose her. That gut-clenching feeling wouldn’t leave. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he managed hoarsely, moving to her side.
She sniffed and set the computer down, moving into his arms when he reached for her. At that, he relaxed a little. If she was angry at him, she surely wouldn’t be going to his arms, would she?
“My book,” she choked out between sniffles. “It’s gone.”
Recognition dawned, and a queasy feeling hit his gut. Was that . . . shame? “Gone?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “What happened?”
“Igor must have knocked over the vase,” she said, burying her face in his shirt. “The laptop is soaked. It’s ruined.”
Her sorrow was tearing him apart. Hunter stroked her back. “We’ll fix it. I’ll call someone to come take a look at it.”
She shook her head against his chest, as if denying his words. “It’s my fault. I left Igor in here all night. I’m so stupid.”
“You are not,” he said, his tone vehement enough to make her look up in surprise. He reached out and brushed the tears from her cheek. “You’re not stupid, Gretchen. Not by far.”
“I should have emailed my backups to Kat,” she said mournfully. “I just . . .” She shrugged.
“You just what?”
She gave him a tiny smile. “The more I work, the less I seem to enjoy it. That’s all. I guess I’ve been avoiding Kat. Talking with her just feels like too much pressure.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to offer her money or work or whatever would take that miserable look off her face. But Gretchen wouldn’t want a handout. She was strong and capable. He’d have to handle this carefully.
His fingers touched under her chin and he tilted her face toward him. “We’ll fix this,” he told her in a firm voice. “Give me your laptop. I’ll send it off with Eldon.”