Read Listed: Volume IV for Free Online Page B

level of service? People are running in circles trying to accommodate
you, and you’re treating them all like crap. I’m sorry if things have
frustrated you today. I’m sorry if thunderstorms and computer problems and
legal contracts signed years ago have all conspired to give you a very bad day.
But you can’t do anything about them! It’s all out of your control. It’s out of
your control! Why the hell are you getting so uptight about little things you
can’t do anything about?”
    Paul
lips tightened ominously, but he just looked away from her, gazed out the
window of the now-moving car.
    She
breathed raggedly and stared at his impassive profile. For no good reason, she
suddenly recognized that he didn’t just look tense and grumpy.
    He
looked wounded somehow.
    “Paul,”
she began again, her voice softer and broken by a surge of concern. “Paul, what’s
going on? Has something happened?” She wanted to scoot over and hug him, to
press herself against him in some sort of comfort. But he was too stiff and
standoffish, and she was sure her advances wouldn’t be welcome.
    “Nothing
has happened,” he said coolly, looking back at her with eyes that now gave
nothing away.
    “Then
why are you in this mood? It’s not like you at all.”
    “Can
we just drop it?”
    She
flinched slightly at his clipped tone and withdrew immediately. She pulled her
Shakespeare out of her satchel and opened it up to the Merry Wives of
Windsor . She pretended to read.
    *
* *
    Emily woke up in a
comfortable bed in a picturesque room at an inn near the Prince Edward Island
National Park on the north coast of PEI. Paul had gotten them a suite for the
three days they’d be camping, just in case Emily got sick or decided she’d
rather have a real bed and bathroom.
    Emily
wasn’t planning to use it, since she was determined to go through with their
camping plans, but she hadn’t objected when Paul suggested they spend the
afternoon in the suite so they could comfortably shower after traveling, she
could rest, and he could get a little work done before they went to the
campsite.
    She
had taken a long bath in a lovely, claw-foot tub and then had taken a two-hour
nap. She was tired from the frustrating morning and still kind of worn from her
latest bout of fever, and she’d slept harder than she usually did in the middle
of the day.
    When
she woke up, she felt comfortable and drowsy. She glanced over at the clock and
saw it was already four-thirty in the afternoon. They would have to get moving
soon if they were going to get to the campsite and set everything up before
dinner.
    Reluctantly,
she rolled out of bed, glancing idly in the mirror and disturbed by the sight
of her tangled hair and sleep-flushed face. It was much cooler here than it had
been in Philadelphia, so she’d put on an oversized sweatshirt after she’d
gotten out of the shower, and it didn’t do anything to flatter her figure.
    She
tried to smooth her hair down, and then she wondered what Paul was doing. Maybe
he was finally out of his bad mood.
    With
this hope, she got up and padded across the room wearing socks but no shoes.
She opened the bedroom door and looked out into the main living area of the
suite.
    Paul
was there, standing with his back toward her, looking out the window at the
view of the coastline. He was holding his phone to his ear with one hand and combing
his fingers through his hair in evident frustration with the other.
    “No,”
he gritted out to whomever he was speaking to. “That’s not good enough. I’ve
told you for weeks now we’re on a very limited timeline, and I’m expecting real
results.”
    He
sounded urgent, almost angry. Much more tense than with anyone else he’d talked
to all day.
    After
the other person replied, Paul continued, “I don’t want to hear excuses. You
told me the resources you would need to make this happen, and I’ve provided
everything you requested. This is the most important thing on my radar. Do