Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Carrie glances at her wristwatch. “Yeah, that sounds right. Wow, it’s already almost five o’clock.”
“Like I said, long day.” I rub my temples, wishing my mind would stop its endless loop of all things Carlton.
But my friend shoots me another look.
“Are you okay, Ramona? Did something happen?” Carrie’s brown eyes search mine. Dang, she knows me too well. For a brief moment, I consider telling my friend about everything that transpired in the conference room this afternoon – seeing my childhood crush for the first time in twelve years, and even worse, him not knowing who I am. Melody’s obnoxious flirting, my own jealousy, and now my totally mixed-up emotions. The worst part of the entire meeting was how many conflicting feelings boiled back to the surface whenever I looked at Carlton. From first crush and tormentor to sexy billionaire businessman.
Where would I even start?
I decide that, at least for now, I need time to process the strangeness of the situation on my own. I smile more enthusiastically in an effort to reassure Carrie. “Yes, I’m good. Like I said, just a little tired and a lot in need of a glass of wine.”
“I certainly get that.” She looks at me carefully, probably not entirely buying my excuse but kind enough not to press me too hard. “Well, I’m going to go ahead and go home. But call me if you need to talk.”
I nod gratefully at my friend. “Will do, I promise.”
Once Carrie walks away, I begin to clean up my desk, deciding that a change of venue might make me more productive. Quickly, I pack up the notebooks I plan to take home. I know that Melody will insist that I email the meeting notes to Carlton as soon as possible, so that means my evening will be full of drudgery instead of a relaxing night in. Sighing, I stuff the notepad into my bag, trying to remember if I bought groceries the other day or not.
Then, I stand up and stretch, attempting to shake off the strangeness of the day. A minute later, I walk toward Melody’s office, tiptoeing when I get closer so as to not disturb her in case she’s still there.
To my relief, my boss has already gone home for the day. Giving myself a silent ‘hooray,’ I walk back to my own workspace to grab my things.
The ride home on the El seems to take even longer than usual, and I stare absently out the train window, wishing I could go home and take a long bath instead of having to spend the next hour at the small table in my kitchen. Thinking about the notes reminds me of our unexpected client, and within seconds I’m spiraling down the hole that is all things Carlton.
He looked amazing.
In the handful of times I’ve thought of my former crush over the years, I’d always wondered if Carlton became average-looking. It happens, after all. Guys put on guts, their hair starts to thin and gray, and their chins become flabby. But instead, the man is practically godlike with his perfect jawline, thick black hair, and sculpted, muscular body beneath that expensive suit.
I rub my hand across my face in frustration, wishing I could block his killer smile from my mind.
Ever since that day on the hill when Carlton and the other boys were so cruel to me, I’ve held a grudge against him. I know that part of my resentment is based on irrational, childhood drama. But a greater piece of my bitterness is the feeling of betrayal that I’ve carried all these years.
Unlike the other boys in the group, Carlton always displayed a certain level of patience and even respect toward me. He was nice. While he never slowed down for me during bike rides or took it easy on me when we played soccer, I could always tell that he kept an eye out for me. It was definitely part of the reason he was my first crush.
But then for him to turn tail like that and banish me from the group that day was the biggest slap in the face. Carlton had never been so harsh before, and his words stung worse than they should have. Perhaps it was my own fault for caring about his approval too much, but for whatever reason, the memories of that particular day have never really left me.
I lean my head against the train window and stare at the Chicago skyline blindly.
I’ve come a long way from the naïve little ten-year-old, but – as aggravating as it is to admit this fact, even to myself – that incident and Carlton’s utter cruelty toward me still bothers me, all these years later. I realize that I remain mad at him, and it certainly didn’t help that he practically ignored me today.