Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
NOVEMBER 7
Dear Odette,
First, forgive me for not sending you a letter yesterday. There was a bit of a mix-up, and Wolfgang nearly died trying to get through the rain and lost it. Anyway, more importantly, what do you look like now? It feels as if it has been so long since we last met. At first, I was bothered by it, but now, I like to think that you enjoy this just as much as I do. After all, you could have easily called and told me to stop with my damn letters. I was expecting it, honestly. But seeing as how you have not, I am further encouraged. Clearly, you are starting to warm up to me.
GM
“You’re a little too smug,” I muttered down to the paper. And I was annoyed at myself for reading it! I knew he was going to do it again, but still, I read. Grabbing my phone, I texted.
I am not warming up even a little bit.
I beg to differ. —Gale
You cannot differ on the topic of my emotions. —Odette
I can, and I do. —Gale
You’re annoying. You know that, right? —Odette
And yet, here you are messaging me. —Gale
Because you keep writing to me. —Odette.
Tell me to stop writing then. —Gale
I frowned, not texting back.
Did someone turn up the temperature? I do believe your hesitation is proof that you are warming up to me. —Gale
You aren’t funny! —Odette
I beg to differ. —Gale
“Ugh!” I groaned, lying back down.
Let me know when you wish to stop avoiding me. —Gale
I am not avoiding you. —Odette.
Are you sure? —Gale.
Yes. —Odette.
Then join me for lunch or dinner today. —Gale.
I’m busy. —Odette.
Yes, busy avoiding me. —Gale.
For some reason, I had a feeling he was laughing at me.
“Sir?”
I looked up from my phone to find both staring down at me, confused. I simply showed them the string of text messages between us. “I do think she likes me.”
“Or she could be annoyed—”
“Forgive me. I am preoccupied at the moment.” I winked at him, grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it into my mouth before lying back on the couch to text her back.
This was fine.
No, this was perfect.
I had spent so much time talking to Gale that I was clearly and completely late for the Etheus Women’s brunch to support women in technology. Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to come at all. I was busy, but I came because my mother had called me, saying she was no longer going. Where she went instead, I had no idea. But her words from a few days ago were stuck in my mind. Yvonne wanted to erase my mom, and I wouldn’t let her. She was just as much a part of this company and my father’s legacy as Yvonne was.
So I was now dressed in my very best, all-white power suit. My hair slicked back, my heels high, a designer clutch in hand. However, when I got there, all the women were dressed in long-sleeved company shirts and jeans. Even Yvonne, who normally never skipped a designer label, had her blonde hair in a messy bun, and she wore little to no makeup.
“Odette, you’re here!” Yvonne reached out to me, making sure anyone who hadn’t noticed me did, and there was no running from this. The invitation had clearly said formal dress—well, the invitation my mother received had.
“Yes, I am. Sorry, I didn’t get the memo.” I forced a smile, walking up to my stepmother. “I would have much preferred to wear jeans.”
“That’s fine. Please, sit.” She smiled and glanced behind me. “Is your mother here?”
I leaned and shook my head. “No, sorry, you won’t get a chance to embarrass her today.”
She shot me an icy look, and I just turned back to the table of women. “Hello.”
“Ladies, this is my stepdaughter, Odette. Sadly—well, happily, my daughter, Augusta, is currently on her honeymoon.”
“Congratulations to her,” one of them said back.
“Odette, I heard you were good at coding, but you didn’t stick with it, is that true?” another black woman around my age asked.
“I was decent. My father taught me. But that was never my passion, so I didn’t pursue it.”
“Yes, Odette takes after her mother and prefers pageants and the arts.” Yvonne smiled, pouring herself more coffee. “You should have seen her when she was young. She was the cutest little beauty queen. What is your mom always saying? Beauty is just as important as technology.”
“She’s not wrong. What she meant...” I started to say when another person cut in.
“Yeah, she is,” the one beside me spoke again. “What can you do with beauty? Technology affects our daily lives every second of the day.”
“So, does beauty—”
“For the superficial maybe,” the other spoke out. “Getting all dolled up and always trying to look like some supermodel. That’s why guys don’t take us seriously.”
“I’m not trying to say we—”