Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Chuckling, he brings his feet to the floor and leans forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “It never did. But your work has gotten in the way plenty of times.”
He’s not wrong. I glance at the emails. I’m in no mood to deal with the mundane for another hour. With a smirk, I say, “Let’s remedy it.” I stand and come around, grabbing my phone from the desk and tucking it into my back pocket. “I’m buying the first round to celebrate.”
“You’re buying all the rounds, moneybags.”
He stands and follows me to the door. I laugh as I march toward the door like we’ll get busted if we don’t get out quickly. I leave my suit jacket hanging in the closet and start to roll up my sleeves to loosen my mood.
When I open the door, Jocelyn looks up. Her eyebrows rise, and then the slightest smile taunts the corners of her mouth upward. “Looks like you’re off to an important meeting.”
“Yes,” I reply, shoving my hands in my pockets. Nodding, I grin. “Very important. Take messages unless it’s an emergency. I have my phone on me.”
“Will do. Have fun.”
I turn on my heel before others notice me escaping before five o’clock on a Wednesday. “Have a good night.”
Jimmy and I walk down the corridor of the office toward the exit. When I open the door to our waiting room, the receptionist stands, seemingly startled just as a woman on the other side of the tall counter shifts to stare at us. There’s a chill in the air between them despite interrupting what feels like a heated conversation.
I’ve never seen this receptionist before, so it’s safe to assume she doesn’t know who I am either. Heading out the door is not the time for introductions. Eyeing me and then Jimmy, she says, “Hello.” There’s an impatience to her voice, and her eyes appear frantic from the angular dip at the corners and the way they search between us for help.
“Hello,” I reply, sweeping my hand over my hair. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Fine. I was just letting our visitor know,” she says, referencing the other woman, “that she can’t just show up expecting to see someone. She needs to make an appointment.”
I glance at the other woman. Her lighter blue eyes are set on mine as if I’ll give her a different answer. She moves closer, the skirt of her dress not moving under the small step. “It’s very important,” she says much quieter as if I’m the only one here. The plea has me weakening, but my employees are trusted to do their jobs.
I don’t need to step in to handle it, but guilt coats my gut. I’m shirking responsibility. My father would be disappointed. I take a breath. Knowing the right thing to do is stay and deal with her inquiry, I open my mouth. “How can—”
“Elevator is almost here,” Jimmy says with a not-so-subtle hint.
Stay strong and leave. That’s all you have to do, Landers. Walk to the elevator and leave with Jimmy, the friend I’ve been blowing off for months to work more than I should. “I’m sure . . .” I glance at the receptionist again. Since I don’t know her name, I say, “She’ll make sure the message is delivered.” When I glance at her again, she nods. I’m intrigued by what could be so pressing, but I refrain from asking. “Have a good day.”
Jimmy grins when he sees me coming. “Almost lost you.” Stopping beside him, I glance back at her and overhear her tell the receptionist, “Please. You don’t understand—”
“There’s nothing I can do,” she snaps. “I’ve already left a message with Mr. Landers’ assistant.”
My shoulders fall. Fuck. There’s no familiarity when I look at her, but the attractive woman has piqued more than my curiosity. I debate again if I should get involved, introduce myself, and ease the tension between the two women. She is desperate to see me for some reason. “Surely we can spare a minute or two.”
“Or thirty to an hour like usual,” Jimmy replies under his breath. The elevator dings, making the decision for us. When the doors slide open, I’m bumped as Jimmy steps around me. “Leave it at the office, man.”
He’s right. I don’t need to involve myself. More importantly, a drink with him takes priority. Maybe that’s a careless decision, but I’m willing to take the heat later for it. I get in the elevator after him, settling into the corner and leaning against the wood-paneled wall. Just as the doors begin to close, a hand—no rings, specifically not on a certain finger—waves between the doors, causing them to part again. The woman steps on with a hand stuck to her hip and a smile plastered on her face.
“Thanks for holding it, guys,” she says, the sarcasm hitting like a Mack truck, making me realize her smile isn’t so genuine.