Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
He gives amazing hugs.
“You got it, Ms. Sinclair,” he replies, his smile gone.
I return to my desk, pushing the look of rejection out of my head. He didn’t mean anything by it. Did he?
My speaker buzzes, I hold on to the button and speak, “Yes, boss?”
“Book us a flight for New York City.”
“No problem, when for?”
“Thursday.”
“Time?”
“Any, the meeting isn’t until the following day.”
“What meeting am I preparing for?”
His line crackles as he moves around and his chair squeaks loudly. “A representative from the Japanese company Denki No Corp. They’re emailing me the details shortly. This could be our biggest client of our lives. If we get them, we’re talking a billion-dollar purchase and a very nice Christmas bonus for you.”
“Whoa.”
“Yep.”
“Shame we don’t have to go to Japan. That would have been awesome.”
“Agreed. But they need to see our best tech at work.”
I smile, feeling excited. “Well, I’ll get WhyTech NYC to get their asses in gear.”
“Thank you, Ms. Sinclair.”
“It’s Rose. Stop being a child,” I reply and release the button, effectively cutting him off.
Chapter Twenty
He doesn’t care how I look.
Rose: He put flowers and chocolates all over my desk again and won’t leave me alone. He’s just not relenting.
Laurie: Seriously? GET THE MESSAGE, DICKWEED! SHE’S NOT INTERESTED!
Rose: I’m sure he heard you just fine. All those caps.
Laurie: I wanted to do my part.
Rose: You always nail it.
Laurie: I think so too. Shall we Netflix and chill later?
Rose: Yes. That would be a great distraction. Your place or mine?
Laurie: Epic, I’ll come to yours with pizza.
Rose: Fabulous.
It has been just three days since I broke up with Pax and like NYE he is not slowing down. He won’t stop calling me and texting me.
He approaches me at work so much I’ve had to start working inside Mr. Conti’s office. And then he started texting me accusing me of fucking him, so I opened the blinds just to get him off my case.
I haven’t spoken to Mr. C about the texts, but he has seen the everyday gifts. I don’t want to bother him with my drama that shouldn’t have been brought to the workplace at all.
It’s sweet but I’m just not into it anymore. I genuinely don’t want to be with him anymore. It’s just too stressful. Relationships shouldn’t be hell from what I’ve seen of them. Take the Contis, for example, both generations, they’re all in stable happy homes where they cherish and respect each other.
That’s what I want, stability and happiness and a man who is a grown-up and understands that I have a life outside of him.
My workday finishes and I grab a couple of bottles of wine on my way home, startled to find Pax waiting for me on the steps leading up to my door. He’s sitting on the second step up, his head in his hands slumped forward over his knees.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, stopping by my car, keys in hand. Something doesn’t feel right about this. I don’t like it.
He looks at me with swollen eyes and an unsteady gaze.
“I need to speak to you,” he says, standing. I had wondered if he’s been drinking due to the hazy look in his eyes but he’s coherent enough that I think he might just be a bit upset.
“I don’t think there’s anything left to be said.” I stay where I am, not wanting to pass him.
How could such a passionate man become my enemy. Three weeks ago, I was smitten, and even though I still care about him, with how he’s been recently I can now only say he makes me nervous.
I want to hug him and make him better if I didn’t think he might hurt me.
“That’s bullshit,” he cries, sounding like a whiny teenage boy and not the grown, accomplished man that he is. “I love you. This isn’t fair.”
“You called me a whore and accused me of sleeping with my boss. Of course it’s fair.”
He looks at the bag in my hand and sees the neck of the two bottles of wine peeking out of the top. “Since when do you drink wine?”
“Since Izabella,” I reply and it’s the truth. Izabella introduced me to the wonderful joys of drinking certain wines with certain foods in certain companies. I think I’ve had dinner with her more times than she has her own kids over the past few weeks.
Although she did convince Mr. C and me a couple of weeks ago and we all went to a fancy place around the corner on our lunch hour, taking an extra hour to appease his mother who gushed over how nice it was to see us.
She’s such a wonderful person.
“Cunti’s mom? Don’t you think it’s weird that you hang out with his mom so much?”
“No, she’s my friend.”
I step back when he takes a step towards me.