Published by Christie Ridgway
© Christie Ridgway 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
"No more stalling," Becca Collins said aloud, as if hearing the words would overcome her reluctance. "It's time to call The Ice Man."
She glared at her hand where it rested on the desk in her small office. "Call," she repeated, mentally ordering the stubborn thing to move toward her phone. "The Ice Man."
When her fingers refused to even twitch, she slumped in her chair and stared out the fourth-floor window of her building on the business campus located at 8000 Ocean Avenue. Situated on a bluff across the Pacific Coast Highway from the beach, it afforded an expansive ocean view. The campus itself was a piece of primo Southern California real estate, green grounds surrounding two modern glass-fronted high rises. Usually the environment as well as the view stimulated Becca's creative juices—a boon for someone with the job of account executive at Winthrop & Wise, a public relations firm, but today their beauty barely registered.
Because she was going to have to call The Ice Man.
Becca considered taking a short stroll down the hall to visit her colleague and friend, Haley Cunningham. The other young woman would be properly sympathetic as well as willing to brainstorm another type of event to benefit the charity for which Becca did pro-bono work on W&W's dime. But her boss had loved the idea of a "snow party on the sand" when she'd floated the notion and coming up with something else to garner that much enthusiasm wouldn't be easy.