Prologue

Holly Carrington had been waiting precisely six years and four months for this day.

She was about to get the promotion she had worked her butt off for. She could feel it down to the tips of her toes, which were, at the moment, painfully encased in chocolate-brown leather, three-inch, high-heeled boots purchased specifically for this occasion—and with a blasphemous disregard for comfort.

Holly’s back stiffened and she scooted a little closer to the edge of her chair as the large glass doors to Martin Laurence’s office opened with a familiar, forceful swoosh. Martin Laurence, the founder and visionary behind the country’s preeminent interior design house, had entered the room. Holly knew from the moment she had graduated six years ago that she wanted to work for him. Only the best got hired, and only the most exceptional and diligent lasted at his firm. Once hired, her next goal had been to make senior designer before the age of thirty.

The scent of Martin’s pleasant, fresh cologne wafted through the air as he walked by her, his Italian leather loafers echoing on the gleaming marble floor. Holly’s eyes followed him as he gracefully sank into the plush chair behind his massive glass and steel desk and smiled at her.

“Good morning, Holly,” Martin said smoothly, his blue eyes locking onto hers.

“Good morning, Martin,” she replied with as much composure as she could manage.

“Holly, I’m not going to beat around the bush, you and I are both too busy for that. I think you know why you’re here this morning. From day one you have been an asset to this firm. Your dedication, your designs, and your attitude have always made you stand out. I had you pegged for excellence the moment you started here, and you haven’t let me down once. I’m so pleased to offer you the position of Senior Designer,” he said, finishing with his wide, perfectly polished smile.

It took two seconds for his words to sink in, and then Holly felt the rush of accomplishment engulf her. She wanted to jump out of her leather club chair and scream YES! at the top of her lungs. She settled on a controlled, perfectly acceptable squeal of delight and tapped her feet on the floor. Martin indulged her by laughing.

“Martin, thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. This has been my dream since I started working here. When you hired me, I was intimidated by the talent, but so determined to show you that I could succeed. It has been an honor to work with you, and I’ve learned so much,” she said, her words tumbling out of her mouth.

“Thank you, Holly. I don’t ever remember hiring someone with such a work ethic. Your designs are fabulous, and our clients love you.”

Holly waved a slender hand, graciously brushing off the compliment. But inside she cherished his words—Martin didn’t hand out praise very often.

“I’d also like to take this opportunity to go over your new responsibilities, expectations, and, of course, salary and bonus packages,” Martin said, his eyes twinkling as he slid a black leather portfolio across the desk.

Holly couldn’t stop smiling as she reached for the folder, her perfect French-manicured nails standing out against the black leather. Poor, small-town Holly was no more. She had been replaced by this successful, confident, twenty-eight-year-old woman who had made a name for herself in a cutthroat business. Tonight she was going to celebrate with her sister, Jennifer, her brother-in-law, and their six-month-old daughter. The timing couldn’t have been better. Jen had invited Holly to dinner tonight, and Holly was going to surprise them with the drawings and plans she had just completed for their home renovation. In a few months, Jen and Rick were going to be leaving the city behind to move back to their hometown of Red River. Holly and Jen had inherited their grandparents’ old home—and it had always been Jen’s dream to live there again. Holly was looking forward to heading up the renovation for them and had already secured a leave of absence to oversee the project. She and Jennifer had come a long way together, and there wasn’t anyone more deserving of that home.

The low vibration of a cell phone against Martin’s glass desktop yanked Holly from her thoughts, and both she and Martin glanced to see which phone was buzzing. Sure enough, it was hers.

“If you have to answer that, go ahead,” Martin said, motioning with his chin to her phone. Keeping their high-profile, high-maintenance clients happy was a priority. Holly nodded, her finger already on the button to accept the call.

“Holly Carrington, senior designer at the Martin Group,” she answered in a singsong voice. Martin chuckled and shifted away from her to look at his computer.

There was brief static on the other end of the line and then, “Holly Carrington?”

“Yes,” Holly replied, her smile faltering marginally at the woman’s tight, clipped tone.

“Ms. Carrington, my name is Kathleen and I’m a nurse at Toronto General Hospital.”

Holly frowned, her mind scurrying for a reason that the hospital would be calling her.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Carrington, but your sister, Jennifer, has been involved in a car accident.”

Holly’s heart lurched forward. “Car accident?”

“Yes, Ms. Carrington. I’m afraid we need you to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Your sister and her husband were badly injured,” the nurse said, her tone softening.

The impact of those words hit Holly with the force of a falling building. She didn’t move. She stared at Martin’s perfectly coiffed black hair. His pleasant, expensive cologne had suddenly become overpowering and stifling. The low rumble of traffic below, the honking horns, and muted pedestrian chatter circled around her. She could not process. Could not breathe. Could not speak.

“Ms. Carrington, are you still there?”

Holly bit her lower lip, feeling the sting of blood creep into her mouth. She cleared her throat and forced out the only question that mattered. “Are they okay?”

The nurse sighed. “Ms. Carrington, I wish it were better news. We will tell you everything when you get here. Are you able to get to the hospital?”

“Yes, of course,” Holly murmured, standing, adrenaline finally kicking in as she scrambled with hands that felt like rubber to gather her belongings. She needed to get to her family.

“Come to the Emergency Department. Identify yourself, and you’ll be escorted inside.”

Holly stopped abruptly, her bag dropping to the ground with a loud thud as a chilling thought stole through her.

Holly asked a question that her heart already had the answer to. She asked it with a voice she didn’t recognize, and with a heart that was breaking. “But they are going to be okay? My sister is going to be okay, right?”

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Carrington.”

The tremor that began in her heart exploded like a bomb throughout her core, consuming everything inside her as the voice on the other end confirmed news she would never be able to accept.

Slowly, the carefully put together ensemble consisting of a new silk suit, matching chocolate brown leather boots, perfectly highlighted caramel-colored hair, and meticulously applied makeup began to feel as though it were being peeled, pulled, and stripped from her body.

All of it superficial, unimportant trivialities.