Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I stretch my arms over my head, my muscles still sore from all the work it did the day before. Even getting out of bed I feel him, and I knew I would. He didn’t just take me to bed and get it over with. Nope, not Kirby, he took me to bed and properly fucked me until I couldn’t move. The ten minutes I was used to, which by the end of our marriage had dwindled down to two minutes, was not even a comparison.
“Okay, you are going to have to stop thinking about him,” I scold myself as I take a sip of coffee. “He’s your boss and you made the decision.” I walk to the outside couch area, sitting down and watching the sun rise. “Doesn’t mean you have to like it.”
I finish my coffee before getting up and heading back inside, my phone ringing at exactly seven, and I look down to see it’s my father calling. “Good morning.” A smile fills my face.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he greets. “I just got in the car to go to the gym and thought I would call and say good luck today.”
I take a deep breath and my stomach flutters nervously. “Thank you, I’m so nervous.”
“I don’t know why; I think this will be good for you. They should be lucky to have you.”
“You have to say that, you’re my dad.” I roll my eyes, rinsing the cup and then opening the fridge to grab the eggs and then the freezer for a sausage round. “But I’m honored either way.”
“How was the weekend? Did you unpack?” he asks me and I look at the boxes in the living room.
“I’m almost done,” I lie to him. I couldn’t really unpack this weekend; I was having the best sex of my life, and now I’m probably ruined for all men. “Just a couple more to go.”
“Okay, honey, call us tonight and let us know how it went,” he tells me. “Love you.”
“Love you more.” I disconnect while I make my breakfast sandwich and eat it with a smile on my face.
I head to the bedroom next and grab the exact skirt that would probably piss off Trent but makes me happy. The skirt he tossed to the side and told me to give away is now the outfit I’m going to wear for my first day at work. The tan skirt with a slit on the side, making it classy but with a hint of sexy. I slip the black, long-sleeve button-down cotton shirt off the hanger, tucking it inside and leaving three buttons open before folding the oversized cuffs.
I get into my SUV and try not to let the nerves fill me, but the closer I get to the destination, the more nervous I become. I park in the underground parking where the email the secretary sent me instructed me to.
I look around and I don’t spot his SUV, and I have to wonder if he’s even going to show up today. I grab my purse and follow the signs for the elevator, pressing the up button and then waiting. “He’s probably avoiding coming into the office because he hates you,” I mumble to myself, the thought making me feel like I’m going to throw up.
I don’t have a chance to turn and head back to my SUV before the elevator opens up and I step in. My hand shakes as I press the number to the floor. I step in the back as it stops on the first floor and people get in the elevator. I have to squeeze my way out when it’s my floor. I step out, looking right and then left before I see the name on the door. I walk over and take a huge inhale before I turn the handle. “You’ve got this.”
As soon as I push the door open and step in, I feel a sense of calmness. The waiting area on the side has a long green couch with two different shades of pink pillows and two single green chairs facing the sofa. In the middle of the wall on top of the couch are three words.
Make The Choice. The Make and The is in gold and the Choice is in a green. Above the words are what look like green leaves with pink flowers covering the top half of the wall, like you stepped into a garden.
I hear movement from the side and look over and blink once, twice, three times and the back of my neck starts to heat up. It can’t be. Would he really? “Hi,” the woman says, “I’m Kylie. I don’t know if you remember me.” Her green eyes stare at me. “We met.”
I swallow down and put on my fake smile. “Yes,” I confirm, moving to the side, “you were Kirby’s date.” I stop talking when the door opens and the man of my dreams and who’s now on my shit list steps in.