Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“As if Harlow’s not a failure,” scoffs Stacy.
“Stacy, hush.” Mavis tries to save her ass.
Cal cocks his head, and I can see him about to unleash hell onto Stacy, but I lay my hand on his arm. This is my fight. I want to stand up for myself, not hide behind him.
“If I’m such a failure, why did you log into my computer and change the metadata on my proposal to make it look like yours? If you were good enough, you could have created your own ad proposal, but you suck, Stacy, and so all you could do was steal mine. Mavis firing me is also not my failure, but hers. She should have investigated this instead of jumping to conclusions. Like Cal said, a company with this kind of management is never going to succeed, and I’m glad I’m out. You can take your failure insults and stick them where the sun don’t shine. Let’s go, Cal.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re very sexy in leader mode,” he tells me as we walk away. “It’s a good thing my hands are carrying the box or I might embarrass both of us in front of your ex-coworkers.”
“Stacy and Mavis don’t deserve to see any of your skin, so yes, keep your clothes on.”
“But me flashing your other coworkers might be okay?”
“It depends on how much they pay me for the right,” I joke.
“I’ll try to keep the Line fortune intact so you don’t have to resort to selling parts of me online.”
“There’s a big market for feet pics.” I look down at his boots. “I’ll take a good look later to see if you have some value there.”
“I will pay you all kinds of money to not do that.”
“Just trying to secure the future for our children, babe.” I grin.
“You can only do this because you know I’m a jealous freak and would not even sell a photo of your elbow.”
“Yes.” I’m full-on laughing now. I didn’t realize love would make me laugh like this, make me feel free like this. While the sex is amazing, this is why I want to be with Cal. He makes the whole world appear brighter, better, more livable. I throw my arms around him and hug him tight.
He gazes down at me and hugs me back. “Should we go home and inspect each other’s parts to see what is sellable?”
“Yes, let’s.” I rise up on my tiptoes and tug him down so I can give him a proper kiss. He willingly, happily relents.
“I love you, Harlow. You know this, right?” he says, backing up slightly.
“Yes, I love you too. Now, kiss me,” I order.
He does, immediately, filling me up with light and joy and love, and not even the three people who yell for us to get off the street, get a room, and that we’re embarrassing could have moved me from this spot, this moment. That’s love for you. It makes you not care about anything or anyone else in the world. Just that one person.
Epilogue
CAL
“You’re going to be late.” Trident shoves a package into my hands.
“I’m not going to be late.” I check the time. “Fuck, I’m going to be late.”
“I told you—”
“Not now, Trident. Where’s Harlow?”
“I’m here.” She waves from the elevator bank. “I’m sorry I’m late. The production meeting went long.”
“It’s okay.” I lean down and kiss her. “The car’s here with the two kids. Let’s go before they try to lynch the driver. He’s new, and we can’t lose this one.”
“I’m ready. Do you have the gift?”
“Yes.” I lift the golden box so Harlow can see it and then hustle her back toward the elevator.
“I gave it to him. You can thank me with a bonus check,” Trident yells after us.
“On it, Tri,” Harlow yells back.
“I gave him a bonus last month,” I grumble as we step onto the elevator car.
“What did you do that time? I forget.” She punches the basement button.
“Nothing that deserved a bonus.” I give Harlow a once-over. “This is a nice dress.” It’s black and slinky, and there’s a sweet bit of cleavage from my vantage point. I frown. There will be other men at the party tonight, and they might be taller than Harlow. “Hold this.” I shove Aunt Gia’s present into Harlow’s hands and pat my pockets. Surely I have something to cover her cleavage up.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not putting a handkerchief or napkin on my chest.”
“You’re practically naked.”
“It’s not my fault that pregnancy makes my breasts balloon into giant gazookas.” She gives me an accusing glare.
“It’s not my fault either.” I find a contract folded in my breast pocket. I snap it open and try to stuff it into her neckline. She bats at my hands and turns away. The doors open, and a bodyguard greets us with a puzzled expression.