Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I don’t see Aksel at all because he’s out on business somewhere and I don’t want to admit that every time I thought I heard him come home, my pulse skipped a few beats, only to be disappointed when I saw it wasn’t him.
But as the day wore on, I stopped being disappointed.
As the day wore on and the darkness of the never-ending winter felt too encroaching and I grew tired, my mind started to latch onto other things.
Negative things.
It’s my nature to try and push that shit out of my head.
But something was starting to bother me.
It slowly grew, bit by bit.
The fact that last night, Aksel called me into his office under the pretense of firing me.
Or perhaps it wasn’t a pretense at all. Maybe that was his plan.
Maybe I somehow won my job back and proved to him I was worth keeping.
They’re dumb thoughts to think and not in line with the Aksel that I know, but the fact is, he did try and fire me, and somehow, after we kissed, after we almost fucked, I got my job back.
I mean … what the fuck was that all about?
“Are you okay?” Freja asks me. I realize I’ve been tossing her toys into the toy box with a little too much anger.
I give her a fake, sweet smile. “I’m okay. Do you know where your father went today?”
Freja just stares at me blankly because why on earth would she know if I don’t?
“Maybe he’s buying me a present?” she asks hopefully in that small voice of hers.
Oh brother.
Later, around dinnertime when Aksel still isn’t back, I’ve let the angry thoughts morph into something made of flames and fire, just stewing over it all.
How dare you do that to me? I want to yell at him. Why did you do it? To get a reaction?
Is he that shitty and immature? He’s fourteen years older than me. Is that really a game that men like him play?
Though lord knows men don’t ever stop playing games, no matter their age.
When dinner is over I tell Maja I’m taking my break.
I also tell her I’ll be in my room and I wish to speak to Aksel in private, whenever he comes home.
Maja is no dummy, and while I don’t think she suspects anything happened with us last night, she can tell that I’ve been in a foul mood for the latter half of the day, so she agrees without asking any questions.
It’s nearly nine, past the girls’ bedtime, when I hear voices from somewhere in the palace.
I’m already lying back on the bed in my boxers and t-shirt, half-asleep, half-waiting, when there’s a knock at my door.
In a second, all the anger rushes through me, and a million rehearsed arguments I had for him in my head all start competing with each other to be the first ones out. I grab my robe, tie it up tight as if it will somehow be a force field against him, and then march on over to the door.
Aksel is on the other side, his hand raised, ready to knock again.
Stupid bastard is so handsome I nearly forget why I’m angry.
“How are you?” he asks simply. As if last night didn’t happen at all.
My eyes flare and I pinch my lips together, gesturing stiffly to the room, for him to come in.
His forehead creases in surprise, probably not getting why I’m acting like this, but he walks on in anyway, looking around him furtively as if he’s stepped into a trap.
I shut the door and turn to face him, my fists clenching and unclenching.
He sees this and then glances at my face warily. “What’s going on? Sorry I wasn’t around all day.”
“You’re an asshole,” I say. Wow. I didn’t expect that to be the first thing out of my mouth, but there you go. I never had a filter, why start now?
“Excuse me?”
I think half the fun of insulting Aksel, other than he deserves it most of the time, is that it really bugs him since no one else talks to him this way.
“You fired me last night.”
“I didn’t,” he says glibly. “Remember? I told you that you weren’t.”
“At the end!” I cry out, my arms flailing. “After we made out, after you nearly fucked me from behind!”
He frowns and places his finger to his lips. “That’s not something we should talk about too loudly.”
“Right, because god forbid you’re caught nearly screwing the nanny.”
His eyes widen. “Well, yes. That’s completely it.”
“Aksel, you called me into your office.”
He rubs his lips together, taking a moment. “Yes.”
“To fire me.”
“I didn’t exactly fire you,” he says, his hand pulling at the back of his neck and avoiding my eyes.
“Yes you did!”
“You came to that conclusion on your own.”
Oh my god. Semantics?
“You let me come to that conclusion! You didn’t correct me! You only added to it!”