Once You Go Pack (Paranormal Dating Agency #94)

Chapter 1

ONE

MILA

The fluorescent lights hummed their familiar tune of corporate exhaustion as Mila stared at her computer screen that afternoon.

She’d been hunched over this desk since seven this morning performing the same ritual that had governed her life for the past eight years.

First to arrive, last to leave, and invisible to everyone.

Her fingers cramped as she typed another email coordinating catering changes for next week’s charity event.

The mysterious Gerri Wilder had appeared in their lives like a whirlwind, requesting—no, demanding—that Eldridge & Associates sponsor her foundation event.

What puzzled Mila wasn’t the charity itself, but why this woman had chosen their firm specifically.

Salem, Massachusetts wasn’t exactly the epicenter of high-society philanthropy, and while they were successful, there were bigger fish in Boston’s legal waters.

She scrolled through her endless task list. Schedule coordination for seven attending attorneys.

Venue confirmation. Menu approval. Photography arrangements.

All with less than a week’s notice because apparently emergencies only existed in her world while everyone else floated through their days attending networking lunches and client dinners.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that the protein bar she’d grabbed at noon hardly constituted lunch.

But there wasn’t time. There was never time.

Not for proper meals, not for the novel she’d been writing in stolen moments, and certainly not for the life she sometimes imagined beyond these beige walls.

Practical careers, Mila. Her father’s voice echoed through her memory, the same lecture he’d delivered when she was ten and had shown him the story she’d written about a princess who saved herself. Dreams don’t pay bills. Your mother understood that before she...

He never finished that sentence. Never mentioned how her mother had once painted watercolors that captured light like trapped sunshine, and how she’d hummed melodies while cooking that sounded like freedom itself.

All of that had been carefully erased, filed away under “impractical pursuits” along with Mila’s own creative ambitions.

The knock on her office door made her jump. Her father’s imposing silhouette filled the doorway, his dark gray hair perfectly styled despite the late hour. Mark Eldridge commanded attention without effort, a skill Mila had never inherited.

“How are we looking for the Wilder meeting?”

We. As if he’d lifted a finger to help coordinate this chaos. Mila gestured to her screen, where twelve different browser tabs chronicled her afternoon of crisis management.

“Catering confirmed, venue secured, photographer booked. I’ve coordinated schedules for everyone attending, though Patrick wanted to decline at first because apparently his golf game is more important than a charity event.”

“Good.” Her father stepped closer, his presence making her cramped office feel even smaller. “Gerri Wilder specifically requested our law firm to sponsor her event, Mila. I don’t want any mistakes.”

Of course not. Because mistakes reflected on him, while success was simply expected from her. She nodded, biting back the multiple responses that crowded her throat.

“Everything will be perfect,” she muttered softly.

“It better be. Gerri has connections we can’t afford to disappoint.” He paused before leaving her office. “And fix your hair before the meeting. You look...”

Tired? Overworked?

“I’ll take care of it.” Mila didn’t meet her father’s eyes because she wasn’t in the mood to hear another lecture about how she really needed to pay more attention to her appearance.

After he left, she slumped back in her chair, catching her reflection in her darkened computer screen. Her golden blonde hair was escaping from her ponytail, and her blue eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. She definitely looked like the ghost of the woman she’d once imagined becoming.

Twenty-seven minutes until the meeting. She pulled up her master document one more time, scanning the details that would make or break this mysterious Gerri Wilder’s impression of their firm. Of her competence. Of her worth.

“Working late again, I see.”

Riley’s voice carried its usual mixture of affection and subtle condescension. Her sister leaned against the doorframe, looking annoyingly fresh despite the late afternoon hour, her tailored black pantsuit crisp as morning newspaper.

“It’s only four-thirty.”

“Exactly.” Riley stepped into her office, her high heels clicking against the worn hardwood floor.

“Normal people have lives, Mila. Happy hours. Date nights. I just left Ted at that new wine bar downtown to attend this important meeting with Gerri Wilder. Plus, I needed to make sure my workaholic sister was handling everything fine beforehand.”

Well, someone has to hold this place together while you all have fun. But Mila just smiled, the expression she’d perfected over years of being the reliable one at their family’s law firm.

“Just finishing up. You know how Dad gets when details aren’t perfect.”

“Speaking of details.” Riley perched on the edge of Mila’s desk, examining her manicure with theatrical concern. “I heard about this Gerri Wilder woman. Apparently she’s some sort of big deal in philanthropy circles. Ted’s firm tried to court her last year, but she wasn’t interested.”

Of course Riley’s perfect husband knew about their mysterious client. Ted Harper collected influential contacts like some people collected stamps, each relationship carefully cataloged for future advantage.

“What else did Ted hear?”

“Just rumors. That she’s incredibly selective about who she works with. That she has this uncanny ability to...” Riley waved her hand vaguely. “I don’t know, see potential in people.”

Something in her sister’s tone made Mila look up from her screen. Riley was studying her with an expression that might have been concern if Mila hadn’t known better.

“You should come to the event.”

Right. Because Mila belonged in that world of champagne and small talk, where confidence was currency and she was perpetually bankrupt.

“Someone needs to manage things back here at the firm,” Mila said quickly, trying to change the subject.

“Someone always needs to manage things, and it’s always you.” Riley’s voice carried an edge of frustration. “When was the last time you did something just for yourself?”

When was the last time? Before her mother died, maybe, when happiness had seemed as natural as breathing.

“I’m fine, Riley.”

“You make yourself invisible, and then you wonder why no one sees you.” The words came out sharper than Riley probably intended.

Mila’s fingers stilled on her keyboard. The truth of it cut deeper than any intentional cruelty could have. “I have work to finish.”

Riley sighed, pushing off from the desk. “Fifteen minutes until our meeting. Try to remember you’re brilliant, even if you’ve forgotten how to show it.”

As her sister’s footsteps faded down the hall, Mila pulled out her compact and stared at her reflection again. “Maybe I do make myself invisible.”

The words echoed in the silence of her cluttered office, surrounded by other people’s ambitions and dreams. She glanced at her watch. Twelve minutes now. Almost time to meet the woman who’d specifically chosen their ordinary law firm in sleepy Salem, for reasons no one seemed to understand.

Exactly twelve minutes later, Mila smoothed her navy pencil skirt as she approached the conference room down the hall. Her cream blouse had wrinkled from hunching over her desk all day but there wasn’t time to change now.

The conference room’s glass doors revealed three figures seated around the polished mahogany table.

Her father commanded his usual spot at the head, his broad shoulders filling out his suit jacket.

Riley had claimed the chair to his right, her dark hair catching the late afternoon light streaming through the windows.

But Mila’s attention fixed on the third figure—a petite woman in an electric blue pantsuit that seemed to pulse with energy.

Gerri Wilder.

Even seated, she radiated the kind of presence that made rooms reorganize themselves around her. Her white bob was styled to perfection, and when she turned her head toward the door, her eyes—bright blue with flecks of something that almost looked gold—locked onto Mila with startling intensity.

“There she is!” Gerri’s voice carried warmth and authority in equal measure. “The brilliant mind behind this organization.”

Brilliant mind? Mila blinked, heat creeping up her neck. Her father’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly, while Riley raised an eyebrow with barely concealed amusement.

“Hello Ms. Wilder, I’m Mila Eldridge. Thank you for choosing our firm to sponsor your foundation event.” She extended her hand, surprised when Gerri clasped it between both of hers.

“Oh honey, call me Gerri. And the pleasure is all mine. You’ve worked a miracle with such short notice.”

The scent of vanilla and citrus drifted from Gerri’s direction, underlaid with something sharp and electric that made Mila’s pulse quicken unexpectedly.

“Please, have a seat.” Her father gestured to a chair. “We’re eager to discuss the details of next week’s—”

“Actually, Mark, I’d prefer Mila walk me through everything.” Gerri’s attention never wavered from Mila’s face. “She’s the one who made this magic happen.”

Riley leaned forward, her practiced smile sliding into place. “While Mila certainly handled the logistics, as senior attorney I can speak to the legal implications and—”

“I’m sure you’re very capable, dear.” Gerri’s tone remained pleasant but dismissive. “But I specifically want to hear from Mila.”

This is bizarre.

Mila settled into her chair, acutely aware of her father’s jaw tensing and Riley’s fingers tapping silently against the table. She’d never been the center of attention in a meeting, especially not one this important.