Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I stood, my mind swirling with concern and anxiety over Beau. I barely thought of anything more than my man. Beau needed to get back here and stop this ridiculous fighting. I’d be celebrating with him tonight, certainly not Chandler. Never Chandler. I headed for the bottle of scotch to top Chandler’s glass off to help his words flow more freely with intoxication.
“Your father suggested I contact you about a position,” he said with a slight slur.
“What did he want to know?” I asked as if he’d answered a different way.
“He didn’t ask for anything,” Chandler said. The bottom of his nose gave the smallest flare revealing his lie. Lessons learned after over twenty-five years of knowing someone. “He was hopeful that you were taking care of yourself and living a happy life.”
Yeah, right. My father never cared if any of his children were happy in their lives, only that they toed the family line. “I find that hard to believe. So, what have you told him?”
“That you’re a badass and I wasn’t going to engage in whatever game he wanted me to play.” His tone changed slightly as that explanation rolled off his tongue as if rehearsed.
I nodded, feeling it was time to retreat and reassess.
“Dash, I’ve never possessed the ‘it’ factor. But you do. That firm we work for could be yours one day.”
“Are you here to stir up trouble for me at the firm?” I asked.
“What? Of course not.” Chandler answered, affronted by the insinuation.
I nodded. “Have you betrayed Joy for her help all those years ago? I suspect she’s firmly on my father’s side now, I haven’t heard from her since then.”
“No, of course not. I assure you. That would incriminate me as well,” Chandler said. “When I arrived in Chicago and saw your success, I was proud of you. I wanted to be a part of it.”
“If you provide my father with proprietary information, it’ll be traced back to me. I’ll lose everything. I’m placing my trust in you.” I delivered the lie without a hint of emotion and with no change in my expression. While I wanted Chandler to leave for the night, I also feared the depth of my longing for Beau. How low could I go?
“Understood,” Chandler remarked.
I nodded, peering down at the condensation from my cocktail glass. “I don’t want to appear rude, but it’s time you headed home.”
“There’s no need to be worried about him…”
“Thank you for your honesty, Chandler.” I cut him off and replied firmly. “I need to be alone. It’s been a long week.”
He didn’t utter another word as he rose and left through the front door in my final test of the night. The Chandler I knew was never compliant with anything. His sassy mouth made sure of that. The low level panic I managed to tamp down most days, surged. This time I took a larger drink of my watered down scotch, my face scrunched under the taste.
“Damn, that’s a terrible drink.” I left the glass behind and went to a side window above the parking garage and entrance to the building. I watched Chandler leave in a waiting taxi. The strong man façade I usually wore was beginning to show its cracks. I’d been in mourning mode. I’d gone seven days without speaking to Beau. My beautiful, unapologetically himself Beau. Regret and doubt replaced the happier memories of our past. Why had I declared that I wouldn’t be the one to make contact?
What might my concessions be when he returned? If he returned. I reached for the arm of a side chair, keeping myself on my feet, bowled over at the suggestion Beau might not come home to me. Where had that even come from? Of course Beau was coming home. I swallowed a lump in my throat before going to my cell phone. I hadn’t allowed myself to sink into a substantial pity party yet. Instead, I distracted myself by drinking into oblivion every night. I should have gone to the Keys with Beau.
As I picked up my phone, an email notification chirped, drawing my focus there. I opened the email app, seeing the first message in my inbox. In slow motion, I opened the thread to find that I had secured Austin Grainger as a client. Both his entertainment company, and his personal attorney. Wow, this was a major win. Austin, one of the most successful actors in the world, had built an empire with his production company. My thumbs danced across the small keypad as I replied, promising to have a retainer agreement and all necessary informed consent documents to them in the morning.
The exhaustion of the last several days of restless sleep and sad feelings swirled through me like the expensive but terrible scotch I’d drank. Tonight, I was changing my drink, and never planned to allow scotch past my lips again. I poured a double vodka tonic and started for the stairs. Even with all my self-pity, I called it a win that I was able to keep from texting Beau. He needed to be here for me as much as I needed to be here for him.