Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
"Mr. Archer?" Simon called as he opened the door.
I was strangely relieved. As irritated as I was by the interruption, I couldn't let my mind stray too far, and tearing into Simon would keep me from falling down a rabbit hole of memories.
Eye on the prize, Jude.
I allowed myself one last glance at the reflection of the fading sun that was painting the westward-facing buildings in a fiery glow of orange. How had I even missed that it had gotten dark?
"Mr. Archer?" Simon whispered. He sounded like he was about to cry. It was just further proof that the sun had set on Simon Dull's assignment as my assistant. First thing Monday morning he'd be back in the secretarial pool and I'd be making the drive across the river to Hoboken to throw whatever dollar amount it took to convince my former assistant to give up her dream of being a stay-at-home mom and come back to work for me. Hell, I'd hire a tribe of childcare people to follow her all around the office with her new baby in tow if it meant I could have some sense of normalcy back. I was literally at a crossroads in my career and it was all about to come crashing down around me because someone in the HR department felt like fucking with me.
"What?" I bit out even as I began running the numbers in my head. If I had to pay my former assistant out of my own pocket, I’d do it. I just needed to figure out what her number would be. After all, everyone could be bought. You just had to know what their price was. Getting actual assistance from my assistant was a return on investment that I was more than willing to spend on.
"He's, um, still here," Simon said. I waited for more information, but nothing came. I pushed my chair around.
"Who is still here, Mr. Dell?" I practically shouted. I reached for the handset of my office phone so I could rain down holy fire on whatever unfortunate soul in human resources picked up on the other end.
I was in the process of dialing when Simon blurted, "Mr. Falcon!"
I wasn't sure who was more surprised by his outburst, him or me. For a second, I was almost proud of him for the show of gumption, but when he said, "Wait, no, that's not right" and looked at a crumpled business card that had been mashed up in his fist, the feeling was gone. "Mr. Falkov."
"Who?" I asked.
Simon looked down at the business card and began reading the name off again.
"Why is he here?" I growled before he could finish.
My assistant's eyes went wide. "Um, hang on, I'll go check—"
"No," I snapped before the man-child could leave the office again. "Don't move," I ordered and then I opened the calendar on my computer to check my list of appointments. The name didn't sound at all familiar and I’d purposefully kept my meetings to a minimum today so I could finish reviewing the contracts for the property deal that would cement my future with TDS Corporation. "There's no one by that name scheduled for today."
"Well, he's been waiting since this morning," Simon blubbered. "I, um, told him you were really busy, but he said he'd wait. And then, I guess, I kind of forgot about him."
"Of course you did," I muttered, then said, "Go deal with it."
"Okay," Simon said and then he was gone again. I pressed my fingertips to my temples and tried to force away the growing pain in my head. I allowed myself a minute to collect my thoughts before returning my attention to my computer, but just as I found the place I'd stopped at, there was a knock at my door again.
"For fuck's sake!" I shouted. "What?!"
There was a lengthy silence and then the door creaked open just the tiniest bit so that Simon could lean in and whisper, "He won't go."
I was done.
Completely done.
I still had hours of work ahead of me and had been running on only a few hours of sleep every night for the past three months. I shoved away from my desk so hard and fast that my chair rolled backward and hit the credenza behind me. Simon let out a little squeak of fear when I reached the door and ripped it open.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Archer. I told him you were busy and that it was late and that you—"
I grabbed Simon's wrist only long enough that I could snatch the business card from his hand. It felt like hours before the jumbled letters fell into place and I was able to make out the name.
Nikolai Falkov.
I stormed past Simon's desk and rounded the corner where there was a comfortable seating area for my clients.
"Mr. Falkov," I began as I entered the room and spied a tall figure in the far corner of the room. The man's back was to me so I couldn't make out anything about him aside from the fact that he had a killer body. He was dressed appropriately in a black suit, but there was nothing familiar about him. I certainly would've remembered meeting a man like him. As it was, I felt like my tongue was suddenly too big for my mouth.