Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
When I reach Orson’s office, I tap on the open door, leaning against the frame with a semblance of casualness I don’t quite feel. “Hey, Orson,” I begin, and his head pops up, clear surprise etched across his features. “Got a moment?”
“Uh, sure, Nash,” he stammers, clearly still adjusting to the chaos of his new environment. The stacks of files around his desk suggest he’s eager to dive in, even if he looks like a deer caught in headlights.
I step inside, folding my arms across my chest, and let out a rough sigh. “I was out of line earlier. Mondays tend to bring out the worst in me, but that’s no excuse. We’re glad to have you on board, and I shouldn’t have been an asshole.”
Orson blinks, then nods, managing a tentative smile that seems to ease a little of the tension between us. “I know Mondays can be rough.” He gives me a pass I don’t really deserve, but I’m going to take it and run. “I’m ready to jump in with both feet when you have time to go over a few things.”
I give him a nod, trying to ignore the trickle of relief lightening the load on my conscience a bit. I mentally run through my schedule. “I’ll have time to meet at ten. Come to my office then and we’ll go through things before I take you to lunch.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
With that olive branch extended and accepted, I head back toward the reception area where Margot keeps the wheels on the bus. She’s on the phone when I approach, her eyes doing a brief, suspicious flit my way.
I wait until she hangs up, then clear my throat. “Hey.”
She arches a perfectly plucked brow at me. “I don’t want to hear it. Keep moving.”
Wincing internally, I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m waving the white flag. I’m sorry I was a complete dick earlier. You keep this place running like a well-oiled machine, and I shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”
Margot narrows her eyes, skepticism dancing in her expression. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re a miracle worker and I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
A smile creeps across her face, and she waves me off with a mock-serious tone. “I guess we’ll let this one slide but don’t let it happen again.”
With both fences mended, I retreat back to my office, surprised to find this vulnerability thing doesn’t entirely suck. As I settle into the paperwork mess on my desk, I find unforgettable emerald green eyes flashing through my mind, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine. Even if I have to beg and grovel.
I wake up to find my face buried under what feels like a thick blanket of fur. Groaning, I try to wriggle out from under it, but the culprit, my hefty twenty-seven-pound cat, has claimed my chest as her territory. “Boo, you’re blocking my air supply,” I mumble, trying to nudge her with a feeble shove. She answers with a lazy blink and a slow lick of her paw, utterly unfazed. Typical.
“Seriously? Is this how we’re going to start the day?” I ask, poking her again. Not a flicker of acknowledgment. I swear, sometimes I think she has a sixth sense for ignoring me when I need her to move. I give it one more shot, pushing my arms against her plush side to leverage my escape. Finally, after what feels like a mini wrestling match, I manage to wiggle out from under her weight, flopping out of bed like an ungraceful fish.
With a quick glance at the clock on my bedside table, I realize I slept in way too freaking late. I bound into the shower, hoping the blast of hot water will jolt me awake. As the steam envelops me, I take a moment to let thoughts swirl around like the water droplets. My mind dances to the handsome divorce attorney who’s taken up permanent residence inside my brain. I need to focus on getting back to normal by forgetting all about the attorney who invaded my thoughts and possibly my heart.
Once the shower revives me, I throw on a tank top and some comfy joggers, pulling my long dark hair up into a soggy top knot, while my spoiled cat stretches out across the entire bed, making herself at home. I make a beeline for the kitchen and crank up the coffee maker, inhaling the glorious scent as it gurgles to life. After a cup or two, I’ll be able to navigate the day ahead.
As the aroma wafts through my small apartment, I lean against the counter, mentally mapping out my plans. Maybe I’ll force Boo to go for a walk later today. She could use the exercise just as much as me. Plus, it’s fun to see how people react to me walking a twenty-seven-pound black cat on a leash. Lost in thought, I barely register the soft knock at the door until it comes again.