Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
He narrows his eyes, but his frustration melts away into laughter. “I can’t even be pissed at you. Well done.”
“What did I miss?” Ford asks.
“I was trying to explain to him that he needs to get a life,” Lincoln says. “He needs to try new things. Live a little.”
I start to fire back that I have a life—one that I like a whole damn lot—but my phone buzzes in front of me. When I see the name, I swipe it off my desk.
“Excuse me for a second,” I say, unlocking the screen. A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips as I read the message.
Dahlia: Good morning, sunshine! I saw your truck in the parking lot. First, learn how to park. You’re supposed to stay between the lines, not have the back end halfway into the other parking spot. Don’t drive a big truck if you can’t control it. Second, can you swing by and see me before you leave?
Ford and Lincoln’s conversation fades into the background.
Me: No.
I imagine my assistant’s freckles pulling together across the bridge of her cute little button nose and the gasp she probably hissed in exasperation when she read my two-lettered response. Amusement settles against my lips.
Dahlia:
I don’t respond. Instead, I fight a smile and watch for the flurry of texts I know are coming.
Three … two … one …
She never fails.
Dahlia: I need your reports from last week.
Dahlia: And a copy of your new driver’s license.
Dahlia: You DID get your license renewed, didn’t you?
Dahlia: I set a reminder on your calendar on Friday. You can’t just ignore my reminders!
Dahlia: DAMMIT, TROY. DON’T IGNORE ME
Dahlia: I hope Lincoln is in your office and he’s driving you batshit crazy.
My tongue runs along my bottom lip as I grin.
Dahlia: My grandma always said not to use the word hate because it was too powerful, but if I could guarantee she wasn’t turning over in her grave, I’d pop it right into this conversation. Instead— I HEAVILY dislike you right now.
Me: What’s new?
Dahlia:
Because it’s so much fun.
“Everything okay?” Ford asks.
“Yeah.” I set my phone down. “Sorry about that.”
Ford gives me a curious look, but Lincoln smirks. Asshole.
“Although the parachute analogy was rough,” Ford says, “I’m going to use it as a jumping-off point.”
“No pun intended,” Lincoln says.
“That doesn’t make sense, Lincoln,” I say.
“Yes, it does. He’s using the parachute as a jumping-off point. Like you’d jump out of a plane. Get it?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t. But let’s move on.” I turn my attention back to Ford. “What are we jumping into?”
He shifts in his seat. Instinctively, I move in mine.
There isn’t a thing in the world that I wouldn’t do for Ford. I owe him everything—most of all, my loyalty. But I know him well enough to know when he’s about to say something he knows I won’t like.
Like now.
Ford clears his throat. “I’m sending Calvin to Los Angeles to handle the Clementine project.”
“What?”
“I know.” He sighs. “Don’t be mad.”
A slow chill snakes down my spine. Take a deep breath, Castelli.
“Don’t be mad? I’m not mad,” I say. “Because I know you’re going to tell me you have a new client that you need me to handle, and I’m fine with that. Not a problem.”
Lincoln frowns.
“You do have a choice.” Ford eyes me warily.
“Everybody has choices. Just like you have one right now.”
I stare at him, trying to cut through our professional relationship and hit him in the we were friends in a combat zone friendship. It might come across a little more aggressive than I intend. Lucky for Ford, or for me since he is the boss, he doesn’t call me out on it.
“Let’s remember I don’t have a say in anything,” Lincoln says, holding his hands at his chest in defense. “I’m just here.”
I turn to him and lift a brow. “Why are you here exactly?”
“Moral support.”
“Moral support?” Ford asks. “I’m giving Troy a choice of assignments, not firing him. He doesn’t need your moral support.”
Lincoln scoffs. “You’re the one who said Troy was going to be pissed. Maybe I’m here to offer you moral support in case he decides to use his particular skill set to force your hand.”
Ford volleys back at him, getting a quick retort from Lincoln. I glance at my phone.
Dahlia: Are you coming to see me or not?
Dahlia: Theo came by to see me, and I don’t even work directly with him.
Dahlia: I’m glad someone likes me.
Dahlia: Maybe I’ll ask Becca if she wants to trade—you for Theo.
I chuckle under my breath, my fingers flying across the screen. I stop myself and read through the text before I hit send. Thank God.
Me: Tell Theo to go fuck himself and to stay out of your office.