Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“You do. Bro, you have no idea how many tips I’ve scored delivering burritos this weekend. I can float you for a week or two.”
“I can’t let you—”
“Yeah, you really can. For this? For Daisy? I insist.”
Another week or two. Time to hone my pitch and make it count. To give it one final shot, for Daisy’s sake. Time to focus on what I could have and not what—and who—I couldn’t. I could absolutely do that.
Or so I thought.
Until Thursday came.
THIRTEEN
BASH
I stared out the window at the city skyline stretching out in front of me. Normally, the view from my office window was invigorating. New York was a place where anything could happen, where any dream could become reality if you worked hard enough, and the eight million souls that called this place home filled the air with a frantic energy that made it impossible not to try.
Today, though, there was only one person among the eight million that concerned me. One angelic liar who’d returned my many, many texts over the past four days with only one simple “I’m safe, Bash. Thank you for everything.” Sunday night.
The words rang with finality. It was clear Rowe meant them to be a period at the end of our story. Instead, they only made my longing for him that much deeper.
There was so much fucking potential there, and I hadn’t seen it for what it was until Landry opened my eyes. There was so much more I wanted with Rowe, for Rowe, but I’d held myself back until it was too late.
“Bash. Sebastian.”
“Hmm?” I startled, turning away from the window, and shot an apologetic glance at the man standing in front of my desk. “Sorry, Kenji. I was just… thinking over that last point you made. Very thought-provoking.”
He pursed his lips. “That shit doesn’t work on me, remember? You’re daydreaming again,” he accused. “This is becoming a problem.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m thinking. Thinking is an important part of my job.”
“Not when you’re thinking of ways to get me to run a deeper background on Rowe Prince. I told you yesterday, the answer is no. I will not be a party to stalking. Consent fucking matters, Sebastian. The information in that background report was meant to determine whether Rowe was a security risk to the company, not so you could stand outside his cousin’s place holding a boom box in the rain.”
I rolled my eyes. “As if I would. The initial report was sparse, that’s all I said. I wanted to learn more about the man.”
But Kenji was right. The things I wanted to know—more stories about his sister, his family, the way he’d grown up, his hopes for the future and whether they might include me—couldn’t be found in any background check. They were the sort of things I’d have to hear from Rowe himself…
If the man ever gave me the opportunity.
Kenji sighed and sank into a chair, giving me a look of concern. “You knew the man for two days. It’s been four days since you saw him, and you’re acting like you’ve just been through the worst breakup of your life. You’re being ghosted, Bash. It sucks, but it happens to the best of us. Some more than others,” he added under his breath. “Is it time to use the Fake Sterling Chase Escape Fund, do you think? Why not reschedule that Borneo trip? Change things up a little. Get your mind clear again.”
I shook my head. “Believe it or not, Kenji, I’m thinking more clearly than I have in a while.” At least about things that didn’t involve the sexy man who’d pulled a disappearing act on me. “I might be done with adventure trips for a while. In fact…” I squared my shoulders. “I think it’s time to take on a more active role at Sterling Chase.”
“Bash. You cannot possibly work more hours than you already do—” Kenji began.
“Not that. I mean, I think it’s time for me to start vetting projects again from the very beginning. At least the projects I’m going to be working on.”
The conversation with Rowe the other night had been enlightening in a lot of ways. So had the unexpected come-to-Jesus with Landry. When I’d shifted responsibility for vetting projects to Austin and Clarissa several years back, I’d told myself it made good business sense. Now, I was starting to see it was at least partially motivated by fear. Fear of being taken advantage of. Fear that all anyone saw when they looked at me was an opportunity or an open wallet. I was still worried about those things.
But giving up authority meant that I’d allowed other people to determine the guiding principles of the company I loved. Without any input from me, they’d naturally focused on profitability… and I’d let it happen. Instead of freeing me, stepping away had weighed me down. It was time for a reset.