Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Right, well, thank you for another—uh—lovely evening.”
Phillip chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re absurd. If you weren’t racing off . . . we could continue. I could call breakfast up for us.”
“Oh no. No, no, no.” I just keep repeating the word while I look for my shoes. One is underneath the coffee table, and one is near the television, which is to say it’s wedged between the television and the wall. Whoops. I have to jiggle it for a moment, and even then, the heel leaves a scuff on the paint. I rub it, as if that will magically make it disappear. Then clear my throat. “Right. Send me the bill for that.”
A quick peek at Phillip proves how much he’s enjoying this, watching me squirm, that is.
I veer around him, taking the long way to the door. Even still, he meets me there, taking the handle so he can stall for a moment before he opens it.
“So that’s it? You’re off?”
I don’t look at him. “I’m off. Yes. Work calls, after all. I’m sure my boss has sent a million emails by now. No time to delay.”
He nods, his expression tightening ever so much. “Right. Okay.”
There’s no goodbye. The moment he opens that door, I duck under his arm and flee.
What a disaster!
What a perfectly confusing situation with a man who I can’t even wrap my head around!
I have no intention of going down that road with him again. When he called me to his suite, I thought he wanted to have a discussion, sure, but sex? Never in a million years.
We just get under each other’s skin. That argument . . . it felt like a boatload of foreplay, if you ask me. Like we were just wanting an excuse to pounce on each other again, and, boy, did we. I can’t even think back on what I did to him on that couch or I’ll die from embarrassment. I’m not that girl! I’ve never . . . probably will never . . . experience things like that again.
My next date with a man I meet back home, a man I procure through some dating app, will be such a letdown. I know it already. I’ll just have to prepare myself for the disappointment and tell myself that not every man can be like Phillip. Sure, the sex is good, but his personality? Okay . . . also good. But his manners? Dammit, they’re impeccable.
There are other issues, though, like how he . . .
And when he . . .
Well, right.
One thing is certain; I know I’ll never see Phillip again after this cruise. We live completely different lives, so if I’m looking for an excuse to push him away, I have it. This is nothing more than a fleeting, lighthearted cruise romance. A fling! How tropical! How worldly of me to go to bed with Phillip. There’s no need to form attachments. I can be cool about the whole thing. Just watch.
When I arrive back at my suite, I yank off yesterday’s clothes and shower. Already, I feel more like myself as I comb my long hair and let it start to air-dry. With comfy clothes in place, I take a seat at my desk and open my laptop. I can’t wait to read Gwen’s thoughts on what I sent her. I did everything she asked and more. I endured Phillip’s wrath (er . . . well . . . whatever that was we did all night) to get her this story, so I’m expecting some kind of explosive email with a ton of emoji and effusive language.
It’s why I sit dumbly staring at my screen for so long when I do finally pull up her email.
Okay good. I’ve passed this on to our content editors. Now, those fact-checking assignments sent earlier in the week could wait until you get back home, but I don’t see why they should. You’ll have plenty of downtime over the coming days. Priority wise, Mark needs the Lancaster story back by tomorrow afternoon. The others can wait until next week.
Thanks.
I blink at my screen, willing the letters to rearrange themselves into different, better words. Something like
Casey, this is wonderful! Just what we were looking for. Let’s discuss a new role for you when you get back to the States. Maybe there’s another assignment on the horizon for you . . . Congratulations, Gwen
Am I a complete idiot?
A total, utter fool?
I thought this story would be the jump start to my career that I’ve always been waiting for. I thought this was the start of something new for me. Instead, Gwen gave me a veritable clap on the back, and now it’s back to life as normal. Fact-checking waits for no man! I cannot believe she had the audacity to send me those assignments! Our intern just doesn’t cut it, not compared to you!