Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Clarabella shrieks, "I never tried to ride that horse!” I roll my lips. "The horse tried to ride me."
"And you let him," Presley says, and all I can do is laugh at how my problem became about everyone else, except for me.
"This talk has been amazing," I say to them, putting my hands on the desk and getting up. "Some would say it's even been eye-opening."
They both roll their eyes at me. "Sit down. Do you have someone she could date?" Presley asks Clarabella.
"Okay, hold on for a second," I urge before this goes out of hand. "I don't want to date anyone."
"You just asked if you should be dating," Presley says. "And you don't want to date anyone."
"I don't want you guys to find someone for me to date is what I'm trying to say." My head spins. "I was just asking if I should be dating."
"What does that even mean?" Clarabella asks. "Either you want to date or you don't want to date."
"It's not that easy," I say, huffing.
"It's easier than that," Presley says. "All we have to do is sign you up for a dating app and let them do all the work for you."
"No." I shake my head. "Can we for once just not blow everything out of context and pay attention to my words?”
"We aren't blowing anything out of context," Clarabella pouts, folding her arms over her chest.
"We are giving you options," Presley says. "Let me ask you a question.
"Why do you think you shouldn't date?" she asks, and I just shrug my shoulders.
“Because a couple of weeks ago I was going to marry someone!” I finally shout. “I would be married right now if he didn’t fuck up and send me that email.” It takes me a second to let the pain come, but sadly, nothing but anger fills me. “Can you imagine I would have been married, and he would have still been with Sheila?”
“If you ask me, he did you a favor," Clarabella says. "Can you imagine you would have been married to him and then found out?"
"Or had kids and found out?" Presley adds. "Then what?"
"I don't know then what," I whisper, sitting down now. "I guess I'm lucky I found out when I did."
"How is Ace?" Clarabella asks, and I almost have whiplash when I look at her.
"What do you mean how is Ace?" I try not to let my voice rise. "How would I know how he is?”
"You spent a week with him on an island," Presley says the words slowly. "At a honeymoon resort. Was he as depressed as you were?"
"Um," I say, trying to find the words. "He was sad." For about a day, I say in my head, and then we fucked for the whole week, and to be honest, neither of us mentioned anything about Joseph or Sheila. I didn’t even think of Joseph until I got home, and they told me that they got rid of his shit. “He wanted to know if I knew and when I thought it happened.”
“I wonder if Sheila went to see him,” Clarabella says, and just the thought makes me ill. Like I am going to be physically ill with the thought of her going to him.
I’m about to snap at them when the phone rings. “I have things to do,” Clarabella states, getting up. “How about we have dinner tomorrow night, and we can talk about it?” She opens her hand. “More about you dating.”
“I’m going to make a list,” Presley says, getting up. “Just so we can know who is in the playing field.”
“Oh, dear God,” I mumble when they start to walk out.
“Are we putting Bennett on that list?” Clarabella jokes with Presley.
“We should also add Luke to that list,” Presley says, and they both tell each other to fuck off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I turn and look out the window seeing the sun coming in. “What the hell am I going to do?” I ask the empty room, expecting someone to answer me. Surely, someone knows what I should do. But the room remains silent. Actually, the only sound in the room is the beating of my heart.
Chapter 27
Ace
"Well, you did it again," my father says, leaning against the bar. He picks up his glass of scotch, and I grab my own. "Closed another deal that everyone said couldn't be done." He smirks at me as I click my glass to his. The both of us are dressed in navy-blue suits and white button-down shirts but with no tie. His black hair turned more salt and pepper than black, his blue eyes just like mine.
I look around the restaurant that is starting to get busier and busier with the dinner crowd. It's attached to the hotel, so it was a no-brainer that we would all celebrate here. A majority of the people standing around the bar are my co-workers. When I got to work on Monday, we got word that one of the top real estate development companies was looking to sell off pieces. It was a huge deal, and after one phone call with my father, who worked in another office, we decided to join forces and see what we could do. So, we got on a plane an hour later, and for the last four days, we've been ironing out all the details. We finally got it done thirty minutes ago, and both offices are meeting for celebratory drinks. "It was a joint effort," I say, picking up my own glass of scotch and bringing it to my lips.