Mona POV
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, but I was already pacing like a madwoman, chewing my thumbnail to the quick. The last thing I needed today—on top of the back-to-back investor calls, a missing assistant, and a sprained heel—was silence from Ian.
I picked up the phone on the fourth ring, already wound tighter than piano wire. “About time you answered,” I snapped, one hand on my hip, the other waving in the air like I had an audience. “You alive or did you finally get crushed under the weight of your own ego?”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Ian’s voice came through, smooth and lazy like he hadn’t just vanished for six hours. “What’s wrong now?”
Wrong? Wrong?
Oh, I was on the brink.
“Wrong is that you’ve disappeared off the face of the planet. Wrong is that you ski
