Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
My courtesy isn’t needed. The driver is halfway down the street already. He’s idling at the stop sign a charity Santa is working like this side of Ravenshoe is as pricy as the other half.
A Santa who oddly resembles the Santa from last night.
“They must get their suits from the same spot,” I rationalize with myself before dumping my laptop onto my bed and trudging to the bathroom.
I don’t want to wash off the scent of Zane’s skin from mine, but if I don’t do something to loosen my muscles, I’ll never find the strength to box up Peter’s things and ship them to Oregon.
He’s not coming back here. I forbid it. But I’m not going anywhere either. Ravenshoe is my hometown, and I refuse to let him trample my mark here for a second longer.
“Is that the last box?”
I stray my eyes to the desk drawer I hid Peter’s family heirloom in for the quickest second before returning them to the courier company worker picking up his belongings. “Uh-huh. That’s everything.”
Missing the deceit in my tone, he replies, “Great. If you could sign here.” He waits for me to sign the first slip before placing a secondary document on top of it. “And here, then we will get these to the other side of the country before your plane lands.”
“Oh… I’m not moving.”
When he peers past my shoulder, I follow the direction of his gaze. Bar some basic bits of furniture that could only fill a dorm room, my apartment is almost empty.
I roll my shoulders before shrugging them. “A change is as good as a holiday.”
“That it is.” When the courier wets his lips as his eyes rake my body, a spark of interest darts through his hooded gaze. “Did you want to go out for some eggnog sometime?”
“Ohh… umm… I’m taken.” I have no idea where those last two words came from. They didn’t even ruminate in my head before my mouth spoke them.
“You are?” the courier asks, his lower lip drooped.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
You’re a lying poo-poo face.
Only two days ago, the courier’s dark features, light eyes, and bad boy persona would have ticked every one of my boxes. Now, they’re barely creating a hum.
Zane ruined me.
He completely and utterly destroyed me.
I’d be upset if my foolish heart wasn’t still believing there’s a possibility of round two.
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and Zane has not realized my details are accessible in his Uber app.
That can only mean one thing.
He doesn’t want to find me.
“All right.” The driver hands me a business card. “If you change your mind, my cell phone number is on there.”
I accept the card he’s holding out while saying, “Thanks.”
It feels good to walk him to the door with enough confidence to convince myself I could go it alone if needed. I haven’t felt like this for a long time.
Every year that ticked closer to my thirties convinced me more and more that I had to settle. That anything was better than nothing.
I don’t feel that way anymore.
I spoke to a separation attorney yesterday. She’s confident I have a solid case to demand the right to buy Peter out of his mortgage, and even though I’m meant to be on vacation, my request to return to work was approved in writing earlier today.
Life is good.
Until it isn’t.
“What do you mean I’m fired? I am the best analyst this company has. I’ve brought you in millions of dollars.”
“And lost us millions too.” I shoot my eyes to Rochelle, the supervisor of my division. She looks down her nose at me as she says, “TreadWall—”
“Was Peter’s decision. I advised him against purchasing additional stock. The CEO was on the verge of a meltdown. He wanted blood. I wrote that in my report.”
“In a report that was never logged with the department before you left for vacation.” Mr. Black, the money behind this operation, stands from his chair to join Rochelle and me on the other side of his big, overcompensating desk. “Everyone got sloppy, and millions were shaved off my company’s assets the past weekend alone.”
“Peter—”
“Has agreed to a voluntary redundancy from the Ravenshoe division. His partnership will be paid out by Christmas Eve, and he’ll helm the less profitable Oregon chapter for the foreseeable future.”
Mr. Black makes it seem as if Peter’s share of the partnership is a pittance. Paying out the one point five million dollar stake I helped Peter achieve in his company may be small for him, but it will give Peter the capital he needs to start the firm I’ve been endeavoring to get off the ground the past two years.
We won’t mention the two point eight million he’s requesting for me to buy out his share of our apartment. He’s trying to put potential future value on the valuation the real estate broker quoted earlier this morning.