Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“Coddle you?” he supplies.
“Exactly. I don’t want you to feel like I’m a delicate flower.”
“You are most definitely not a delicate flower and that’s not what I’m doing. I’m simply telling you what I think as both a man and your boss. As a man, it’s part of why I can’t stop thinking about you. As your boss, it’s fuel for your job. Think beyond the file and the person you’re dealing with, the way you did when you sized me up, but go deeper. Use what you have learned through your struggles to win.”
“I will,” I say, and now I’m dogmatic. “I am.”
“Good,” he says. “And just so we’re clear: none of this means that I’m going to make this journey easy on you or you on me, but that’s okay. I don’t mind working hard for what I want, and I don’t believe you do either. I gotta go and kick some ass. More soon.”
He disconnects, leaving me to linger on the words: I don’t mind working hard for what I want.
He wants me. That is clear. And I want him, too, but there are two problems with a man like Cole Brooks that I can’t forget. 1) He consumes you until there is nothing left, and 2) You want him to consume you anyway, no matter what that means or how that ends.
We need those rules. No. I need those rules.
Forty-five minutes later, I exit my bedroom dressed in one of the only three suits I have to change up with different blouses and shoes, this one black, like my strappy heels, while my blouse is an emerald green. I find my mother still in scrubs in the kitchen. I set my briefcase and purse on the table and she offers me a cup of coffee. “Tell me everything,” she says, as I accept the cup she’s personally doctored my way and rest an elbow on the counter.
“How did you know I was about to be out here?”
“I have you timed. Alarm. Shower. Exit. Forty-five minutes.”
I laugh. “I guess you do, but there’s not much to tell yet,” I say, sipping the warm beverage, “Aside from the fact that my boss is struggling with some of the merger aftermath. He had to go to Houston, so I’m extra busy taking care of things for him today.”
“Is that Reese?”
“No,” I say, leaning on the cabinet opposite her. “His partner, Cole.”
“Ohhh right,” she says. “What’s he like?”
“Arrogant, good-looking, and brilliant.”
She gives me a curious look. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good and bad,” I say, being as honest as I feel I can without worrying her, which is why I change the subject. “What’s up with your architect?”
She cuts her eyes and then drinks from her cup.
“What is it, mom?” I ask. “Did something go wrong?”
She gives a bitter laugh and shoves a lock of her freshly colored hair behind her ear. “I saw him with some other woman at a coffee shop,” she says with a sigh. “I have no right to be upset. We’ve just met, but it felt like there was a connection.”
“I’ve recently been reminded that assuming really does backfire,” I say, thinking, of course, of Cole. “If you like him, don’t shut him out without knowing for sure.”
“I’m really not sure I’m ready to date anyway.”
“You’re beautiful and free,” I say. “Of course you want to date. You’ve lit up over this man and while no man should be the only reason you light up, there’s nothing wrong with them playing a part in your happiness.”
“I feel guilty.” She tears up and sets her cup down. “I really do, and honestly, honey, I also feel angry at your father for leaving us in this hell. He’s why you left school. He’s why we’re here.”
I set my cup down. “I know he is,” I say. “And I’m angry at him too, but we’re a team and we’ve made it. Don’t feel guilty. You don’t deserve that torment. He’s gone, and you deserve to live. And I hate this, but I have to get to work.”
“I don’t,” she says. “I’m back to work and you’re finally living your dream. We did get through this. Or we’re getting through it.”
“And we’re going to get out of here,” I say, walking to the table to grab my briefcase. “I got the scholarship paperwork. With my monthly benefits, we’ll be out of here in six months.”
“I’m fine here,” she says. “I’m not worried about me. I’ve made friends here. I want you out of here.”
“We leave together,” I say. “That’s non-negotiable.” I hug her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
I kiss her temple. “I’ll see you later.”
I head to the door feeling hopeful and thankful, reminded that my mother loved my father, and he loved her, but he was no fairytale Prince Charming. This job is my chance at my self-created Cinderella story. Had my mother created her own, had she retained control, my father couldn’t have left us in the devastating mess we’ve endured. I can’t lose sight of that, no matter how tempting and sexy the boss fantasy might be, and the truth is, it is. Cole is.