Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Strangely enough, all my worries yesterday vanished last night when I heard the words he had written. His love for me poured out of each passage. Every note was infused with his feelings. The way he had looked at me from the stage had eased every worry and calmed every fear. But I was honest with him and told him how I had been feeling.
“Silly, I know.” I shrugged when I finished explaining my feelings of inadequacy and worry.
He leaned forward and kissed me. “Not silly. I understand. But, Lottie, I love you. Nothing is going to change that. You matter more than all of it. Please remember that. Nothing is more important than you.”
“I’ll try. I’ve been a bit off the past little while. More emotional.”
“You feel all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. A bit tired from all the late nights, but good.”
“I’ll be around more now. Trying to do the music thing, the planning, the teaching, make sure I had time for the kids and everything else has been brutal.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I missed you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“No, you have been. I’ve just been stressed.”
“Maybe we could move that time off up a little now that I don’t have to wait until the holidays?”
“I’d like that.” I cleared my throat. “You still okay for the party soon? Will you have time?”
“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to escorting the sexiest woman there.”
“Oh?” I feigned shock. “Who are you taking?”
In a second, he had me on my back and was over me, a warm, heavy body pressing me into the mattress.
“You,” he murmured low in my ear. “My beautiful, wonderful, sexy Snow Queen.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my mouth. “Okay, then.”
My father was waiting for me in the morning, sitting inside my office, behind my desk. It was a power move on his part, reminding me he owned the place and everything in it. I had seen him do it to other people—I’d just never expected it to happen to me.
I refused to let him see my inner turmoil, and I lifted one eyebrow in what I hoped was a condescending gaze, then set down my to-go coffee cup and took my time removing my coat, smoothing down my skirt, and sitting down in one of the visitor’s chairs in my office after I shut my door. I wanted as few witnesses to this as possible.
He remained silent the entire time, not moving, never betraying his emotions. Unless you knew him. I saw the fury in his eyes, the one muscle that worked in his throat.
“Charles,” I said simply, taking a sip of my coffee. “If I had known you were coming to see me, I would have picked you up your own coffee.” My father always drank the coffee that was readily available to all the staff, but he did, on occasion, enjoy a cappuccino from the corner coffee shop where I picked up a cup most mornings.
His voice was icy when he spoke. “I am not interested in coffee. I am, however, interested to know how it is your boyfriend was signed to a record label you were involved in handling a merger for.” The word boyfriend was spoken with such condescension, I could hear his hatred.
I took another sip. “Strangely enough, I asked that question myself.”
That caught him by surprise.
“The boy used you to get ahead. Exactly the way I knew he would,” he snarled. “I know his kind—useless, always riding others’ coattails. You are better off without him.” He launched into a rant about men like Logan, most of his words uncomplimentary and completely inaccurate.
I let him spout off, knowing I couldn’t stop his hateful words. When he stopped to take a breath, I set down my cup. “Are you finished?”
“For now.”
“No,” I replied. “For good.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Simply and without hesitation, I set the record straight. First, I addressed his lack of respect. “You don’t know Logan, so stop casting aspersions on his character. And he is a full-grown man, not a boy. Stop referring to him as such.” I didn’t let him reply before I told him how Carmen asked me for Logan’s number. That Logan refused his offer. His meeting with Bobby and their resulting partnership.
“It was Bobby who brought Logan to Ravaged, not me—not this deal.” I tapped my finger on the desk for emphasis. “They sought him out, not the other way around. His talent sold them on him. Not me. Not any investor. I never once tried to sell Logan to Carmen. Logan would never—and I will repeat that—never have asked me for help. He is far too proud.” I shook my head. “In many ways, he reminds me of you. The old you. His pride and the way he looks at the world. The way he puts others first.” My voice dropped, filled with sadness. “The way you were before Josh died.”