Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
It gets really good, really fast.
I still don’t know what to do about our work situation. It definitely seems too early to officially announce we’re a couple. But springtime is quickly approaching, which means announcements for promotions are too. Theo and I have to come up with a plan if we’re going to be together—if we don’t want a fight over MD to end our relationship before it even begins.
We’re going to have to compromise, which scares the shit out of me. I’ve worked incredibly hard for a long time to get where I am. It feels wrong not to honor all that sacrifice by failing to ask for more, like I’d be letting myself, and all the women at the bank who look up to me, down if I gave up this shot at my dream job.
Who am I if I’m not pressing forward at a hundred miles an hour in my professional life? What do I do with my ambition if I have to step aside to let someone else win? What about my plans to transform A&T’s toxic workplace culture? It’s a change that absolutely needs to happen.
It’s a change I’m going to need a lot of help to implement. What if I took Theo up on his offer to help with my office revolution? If, by chance, he nabbed a leadership position instead of me, I could probably rely on him to put some real power behind my ideas. Would that really be so terrible? Would that be the huge loss I’m anticipating?
I have a lot to ponder. In the meantime, Theo and I get to spend a whole weekend together. No alarms, no pretending. Just us and a whole lot of free time.
Theo doesn’t even ask me to come home with him anymore. He just texts me when he’ll be leaving the office and what we’ll be having for dinner. Tonight he’s ordering in roasted chicken with mac and cheese and a side salad. I told him I’d pick up a couple bottles of my favorite red blend from the wine merchant down the street from my house.
As much as I want to go to a restaurant with Theo again—it was fun, bellying up to the bar together at Honor Bar in Santa Barbara—it doesn’t suck to eat takeout on the couch in sweatpants after a long week.
I park a couple blocks from Theo’s place (that way no one sees my car in his complex’s parking lot) and enter the townhouse through the side door, using a key Theo keeps underneath a potted boxwood plant beside the doormat.
I hear his voice as I enter, bottles of wine tucked under one arm, my overnight bag slung over the other.
“Absolutely not,” he’s saying. “Why? Because I’ve got plans this weekend, that’s why. Also, y’all behaved like a bunch of monkeys last time we went. Yes, fine, there were fun parts, but seriously, Ava, you don’t remember the whole herding cats situation y’all put me through? Because I sure as hell do.”
Setting the wine on the counter, I smile. Is it wrong that I love how flustered he gets when he’s talking to his family? It’s cute how riled up they get him. Like they know how to press his buttons, and he always, always rises to the occasion because he cares so damn much.
He’d be a great dad. I know, because he’s being a great dad now.
Because even though his own father passed, I can tell Mr. Morgan set a high bar for Theo. And Theo, being the overachiever he is, clearly works his ass off to live up to that standard.
My heart swells as I watch him pace in front of the sofa in the family room, phone pressed to his ear. “Look, Ava, how about we make plans to go line dancing next weekend—”
“Line dancing?” I say, pulse skipping a beat.
Theo looks up and smiles at me, even as he says, “Jesus fuck, I’ll pay Waylon to give y’all a private lesson if you want, but I am not available this weekend—”
“I am,” I say. “I’m so available, and I would love to go line dancing.”
Theo cuts me a beleaguered look. He sighs. “Yes, Ava, there’s a girl in my house . . . yes, we’re sleeping together. No, she does not—”
“Yes, I do!” I say. “I do want to go line dancing tomorrow at Coyote Joe’s. Please, Theo?”
Theo shifts the phone away from his mouth. “Trust me, you do not want to do this,” he murmurs. “It wasn’t as fun as it looked.”
“Yes, it was!” I hear Ava yelling on the other line. “Please please please?”
“Please?” I repeat with a smile. “I’d love to hang out with your family.”
Theo tugs a hand through his hair, mussing it in a way that only makes him look that much more adorable as he glances at me from across the island. His eyes bounce between mine, that hand on his hip now, which draws my attention to the fact that he is clearly going commando underneath his sweatpants.